Chapter 3 –
Today was the day she'd meet the king.
"Deep breaths," she whispered to herself, smoothing the folds of her dress.
"My lady, we must prepare to leave. The king awaits."
Mariela huffed, brushing past the swordsman. "Tch. Insolent brat."
"Who was that?" Gideon asked as they walked.
"No one important," she said sweetly. But her mind lingered on those piercing red eyes.
Behind them, the swordsman wiped sweat from his brow, his gaze still fixed on the girl disappearing around the corner.
"Find out who she is," he murmured to his guard.
The Golden Palace glittered like a dream, its walls encrusted with gold, its halls lined with tapestries that shimmered in the morning light.
"This place is insane," Mariela whispered, eyes wide. "Even one of these vases could feed Noor for a year."
"Please, my lady," Gideon said under his breath. "No comments like that in front of the king."
Peter shot her a warning look. "Mariela. Be on your best behaviour."
"Yes, Father," she said with an exaggerated curtsy, earning a quiet sigh from Gideon.
A guard escorted them to a lavish waiting room. Mariela sank into the velvet couch, her fingers twitching as she eyed the tray of sweets on the table.
She reached for a cookie just as a servant entered.
"My lady, may I guide you to the restroom?"
"Thank you," Mariela said, brushing crumbs from her lips.
But as they rounded the corner, she collided with a hard chest.
"Watch where you're going!" a familiar voice snapped.
Mariela looked up—and her stomach dropped.
"Red eyes…" she whispered.
It was him.
The swordsman scowled. "You again?"
"You were the one not looking!" she shot back. "And now look—my bracelet is caught on your coat."
"Perfect," he muttered darkly.
Mariela crouched, fingers deftly working to untangle the chain. "Stay still, would you? You're worse than a child."
A nearby servant began to apologize, but the swordsman silenced her with a sharp wave of his hand.
Mariela frowned. "Don't be rude. She didn't do anything wrong. You could try acting like a gentleman for once."
"You talk too much."
"And you listen too little."
"Are you always this irritating?"
"Only to rude people," she said with a triumphant smile. "Done!" She held up her freed bracelet. "And for the record, your coat is lovely. Shame it's on such a sour man."
The swordsman's breath hitched slightly as he caught a proper look at her face—those bright golden eyes, that defiant tilt of her chin.
He turned away abruptly. "You've done enough damage. And as for my name—I'm grateful you don't know it. Let's keep it that way."
With that, he strode off, his cloak swirling behind him.
Mariela blinked after him. "What a storm in human form."
Minutes later, Gideon found her. "My lady, the king is already with your father."
Mariela gasped. "Oh no. I'm late!"
The king sat upon a gilded throne, his golden armor gleaming.
"So you are the Mariela I've heard so much about," he said warmly.
"I hope only good things, Your Majesty," she replied with a graceful bow.
"You are clever and bold. I like that," the king said with a chuckle. "Your father says you are knowledgeable about plants?"
"Yes, sire," Mariela said, her eyes lighting up. "Would you like a demonstration?"
At his nod, Gideon handed her a vial of cream.
The king extended his hand, showing a small cut. Mariela applied the balm carefully. In seconds, the wound vanished.
"Astonishing," the king murmured.
"It works best on fresh injuries," she explained, "but it can save lives in battle."
The king smiled. "You are full of surprises. I would like you to remain here for a time—to observe the royal greenhouse. My son will discuss the details with you and your father."
"Your son?"
The doors opened with a loud creak.
And in strode the man with crimson eyes.
Mariela's jaw dropped. No… it can't be…
The swordsman's gaze swept the room and landed on her.
His lips curled into a sharp, mocking smile.
"You?!" they said in unison.