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The second floor of the Library of Noctis was quiet. Bathed in soft amber light that filtered through the stained glass windows, it was a space designed for calm.
Celine sat opposite him, hands folded in her lap, her white tunic freshly pressed and tucked neatly into her black trousers. Her armor had been left behind, resting politely near the door. Yet despite the calm around her, the stiffness in her shoulders and the way her fingers curled into her palms betrayed the tension she carried.
Levi watched her from across the room.
He didn't speak at first. He let the silence breathe.
Years of training, years of watching people crack from pressure and close off when pushed too fast, it taught him to let them have the silence. Let them own it first.
Celine glanced up at him and paused.
Something about him had changed.
Not his posture. Not his appearance. But something in the way he held himself. The calm, unreadable librarian who'd casually dispatched five rebels without breaking a sweat had softened somehow. His eyes were gentler. His presence is less imposing. More human.
It was like watching someone take off armor she hadn't realized he'd been wearing.
When he finally spoke, his voice was warm. Patient.
"Thank you for coming back, Celine. I know that takes more courage than most people realize."
Her lips parted slightly, as if she meant to respond right away, but then she hesitated. Her eyes flicked downward.
"This space is yours," he said softly. "There's no right way to do this. No test. No expectations. Just us, talking."
Celine's gaze met his, searching. Her fingers finally uncurled a little.
She hesitated, then asked quietly, "Master Levi, you feel different."
Levi blinked. "Different how?"
"I don't know." She frowned slightly. "You just do. Like you're someone else right now."
Levi smiled faintly and waved a hand. "Just trying to make you comfortable. Don't overthink it."
But Celine noticed he didn't really answer the question.
Still, she nodded and let it go.
Levi continued, his tone unchanged. "Can I ask why you do this? Talk to people like this."
He chuckled quietly. "Because it's what I'm good at. And because most people never get the chance to really be heard."
He paused, then tilted his head. "Do you feel like you've been heard, Celine?"
She blinked at him.
No one had ever asked her that.
Not as a student. Not as a royal. Not even as a daughter.
"Not really," she said.
"People listen, sure. When I win a duel or repeat some political line. But they don't actually hear me. Not the parts that matter."
Levi nodded. "That's a lonely way to live."
The silence returned, but this time, it was warmer. She didn't shift in her seat. She didn't look for the door.
Levi waited another breath, then asked gently, "Can I ask you something?"
She nodded.
"When was the last time you felt safe just being yourself?"
Celine stared at him. Her lips parted. Closed. She looked down again.
"I don't know."
"No guesses?"
She hesitated. "Maybe when I was very young. Five or six. Before my mother passed."
Levi's voice was soft. "What changed after that?"
"Everything."
The word came out before she realized she'd said it. Like it had been waiting in her throat all along.
Levi didn't press. He just nodded once, slowly. "Okay. That's enough for now. Thank you for sharing that."
Celine swallowed, feeling something stir in her chest. It wasn't pain. Not yet. But it was close.
Levi continued, voice even. "Next question. Not about your past. Just about now." He gave a small smile. "Right now, in this moment, what's the hardest thing for you to admit?"
She stiffened.
Levi raised a hand quickly. "No rush. Just sit with the question. Let it circle around a bit."
Celine did.
She looked around the room. At the dark bookshelves. The small table beside her chair with a cup of untouched herbal tea. At Levi, who sat so calmly, as if the chaos of yesterday hadn't existed at all.
She licked her lips.
"That I don't know who I am without a sword in my hand."
Levi's smile faded into something quieter. Not sadness, but understanding. "Thank you."
He leaned forward just slightly. "Can I offer you something? Just an idea."
She nodded.
"You are not the roles you've been given. Not the armor, not the name, not even the strength. You're the one asking the questions. And the one brave enough to sit here looking for the answers."
Celine felt something in her chest give. A tightness she hadn't noticed began to loosen.
"That's scary," she whispered.
"It's supposed to be," Levi said. "But you're doing great."
She looked at him again, really looked. And for the first time since entering the room, she didn't feel like a warrior. She just felt like a person.
.
.
.
The tea had grown cold on the table, but neither of them noticed.
Celine sat with her back straight, but the tension in her spine had softened. Her hands no longer clutched her knees. They rested calmly in her lap. Her breathing had slowed. Steadier now.
Levi gave her time. He always gave time. That was the first kindness people forgot they needed.
When he spoke again, it was with the same measured calm. "I'm going to ask something simple next. You don't have to overthink it. Just answer honestly, even if it doesn't make sense right away."
Celine nodded.
"What's something you feel you're constantly chasing but never quite catching?"
Celine's brow furrowed. Her lips pressed together, thoughtful.
"Approval," she said finally.
Levi tilted his head. "Whose?"
She opened her mouth. Paused. Then shut it again.
"Everyone's," she whispered.
He nodded slowly. "And if you ever got it, genuine approval from everyone you care about, what do you think that would change?"
Celine bit her lower lip. Her voice came quieter this time. "I think I'd stop feeling like I have to earn my place every day."
There it was.
Levi didn't push further. Instead, he gently mirrored her words. "You carry the weight of always needing to prove you deserve to exist as you are."
Her throat bobbed as she swallowed. She didn't cry. But her eyes shimmered.
"Yes," she breathed. "Exactly that."
Levi leaned back again, giving her a bit of space. "You're not alone in that feeling. But that doesn't mean it's not exhausting."
Celine let out a small, shaky laugh. "Exhausting is a good word."
He smiled. "Then let's keep going gently. You're doing well."
She exhaled, like someone who hadn't realized they'd been holding their breath.
"Next question," Levi said. His tone shifted slightly, not firmer, but more focused. "What would happen if you stopped trying so hard?"
Celine blinked. "What do you mean?"
"If tomorrow you woke up and decided to just be. No sword. No armor. No striving. No trying to be stronger, better, or perfect. What would happen?"
She looked down at her hands.
"I think I'd fall apart."
Levi waited.
She kept going.
"I wouldn't know who I am anymore," she whispered. "I think I'd feel useless. Like I failed at something important."
"And what's that something?" he asked gently.
"Being worthy."
Levi already understood.
He nodded again. "Thank you, Celine. That's a hard truth. But I want you to remember something."
He met her eyes. "You don't have to be perfect to be loved."
Celine's shoulders trembled. But she didn't cry. Instead, she let out a long breath and nodded.
"Okay."
Levi let the silence settle again. Two questions. Two answers. And a door inside her had opened just a little wider.
They weren't rushing.
For today, just being seen was enough.
And for the first time in a long time, Princess Celine felt like she could breathe.
.
.
.
The soft tick of the wall clock marked the passage of time. The quiet hum of the city outside filtered through the tall black-glass windows, but inside the second-floor office, the world felt still.
Celine sat with one leg crossed over the other now, posture less rigid. Her fingers played idly with the hem of her tunic. Levi noted the change with quiet approval.
Progress wasn't always loud. Sometimes, it sounded like breath returning to rhythm.
Levi didn't speak immediately. He let the air settle. When he did speak, it was soft. "Are you ready to keep going?"
Celine gave a small nod. "Yes."
He smiled lightly. "What do you do when no one is watching?"
Celine blinked. Her fingers froze. "What do you mean?"
"When the armor's off, when there's no one to impress, no mission to complete, what does Celine do with her time?"
It took her a moment to respond.
"I train," she said.
Levi raised an eyebrow.
Celine flushed. "It's calming. My body moves on its own. It's the one time I don't have to think."
"That's fair," Levi said. "But is it what you want to do, or what you think you should do?"
Celine opened her mouth, then paused. The question hung in the air.
"I don't know."
Levi nodded. "Then let's reframe. If there was no war, no expectation, no kingdom, what would you be doing?"
Celine stared past him, at a place far beyond the room.
"I think I'd want to write."
Levi's head tilted. "Write?"
She nodded quickly. "Not anything fancy. Just stories. Tales I used to tell my little cousins before bed. I liked making up heroes. Giving them impossible quests. And endings."
Her voice caught slightly on that last word.
Levi didn't miss it. "Why endings?"
Celine looked down at her lap again. "Because when a story ends, the character gets to rest."
Levi's breath caught just for a moment. Then he smiled.
"You just gave me more insight with that sentence than most people manage in five sessions."
Celine blinked. "I did?"
"Yeah," he said gently. "You see the world like a battlefield, but deep down, you want peace. You want your story to mean something. To end with a purpose. Not just end."
The red in her cheeks wasn't from embarrassment this time.
"I think so," she said softly.
Levi leaned back slightly, still watching her with patient focus. "Okay. One more for now."
She nodded.
"What's something you've never told anyone, because you're afraid it makes you weak?"
Silence.
Celine's breath hitched. Just slightly. She didn't answer at first. And Levi didn't press.
The moment stretched.
Then:
"I'm afraid of disappointing people," she whispered.
Her voice was tight.
"Everyone says I'm strong. That I'll be the kingdom's future sword. That I'll surpass my brother. That I'll be the first Tier 7 warrior in the family line. But..."
Her fingers curled into the fabric of her tunic.
"What if I'm not?"
Levi stayed silent.
"I try so hard," she continued.
"But sometimes, I wake up in the middle of the night and I can't breathe. I look at my sword and I feel hollow. Like I'm just swinging metal to prove I deserve to exist."
The words trembled as they left her.
"I've never said that out loud before."
Levi nodded, slowly. His voice was almost a whisper when he spoke. "Thank you for saying it now."
And he meant it. Truly.
Because buried beneath strength, loyalty, and discipline, there was a girl who was afraid to be soft in a world that only praised sharp edges.
And for the first time, Celine realized: maybe she didn't need to be a sword.
Not all the time.