The day had started with Kael assigning her to deliver food and supplies to the field hospital — a simple errand, or so Marin thought. She loaded a basket with fresh bread, broth, and a pouch of dried fruits from the palace kitchens, feeling rather pleased to be doing something practical. On the way, she'd stopped at the quartermaster's tent to chat with a supply clerk about the latest shipment of herbs, offering idle advice from her merchant upbringing about keeping the stock dry and rotated. By the time she reached the outer lines, she'd also managed to give directions to two lost messengers and help an old soldier balance his walking stick.
Even then, she'd caught herself glancing toward the parade grounds where Kael was earlier, wondering if he ever noticed the errands she ran. Not that it mattered, she told herself firmly — except her chest gave a little flutter at the absurd image of him leaning against a post, watching her bustle about like some diligent maid. The thought made her cheeks warm and her brain immediately scold itself.
Yes, Marin. Because generals are known for being deeply interested in baskets of bread. Still, a tiny, ridiculous part of her liked the idea, and she shook her head at herself with a half‑smile. Pull yourself together, woman. You're delivering lunch, not waltzing into a romance ball.
She reached the hospital tents in good spirits, though a little dusty, her skirts brushed with camp mud. The field hospital smelled sharply of antiseptic herbs, smoke from boiled bandages clinging to the canvas walls. Marin had only meant to bring a basket of bread and broth for the soldiers, but as soon as she stepped inside, chaos seemed to ripple in her wake.
Nyssa Leafwhisper, the half-dryad healer, was bent over a poisoned soldier, sorting bundles of herbs onto a table. Marin stepped forward to help — and promptly caught her toe on a stool with a loud, undignified yelp. Pain shot through her foot as she stumbled, windmilling her arms in a desperate bid to stay upright. The attempt only made things worse; she toppled forward in a flurry of skirts, smacking her hip into the herb cart hard enough to make her eyes water. The cart wobbled dangerously before spilling its precious bundles into the mortar bowl Nyssa had been working over.
"Marin!" Nyssa exclaimed, but before she could protest, Marin had already begun apologetically mixing the mess back together. "Oh, I'm so sorry — I know these aren't the same plants, but if you steep the fever-leaf with this root, it should…" She trailed off, realising everyone was staring. "…It should help balance the body's humours. At least, it did when my father's warehouse hands ate bad shellfish."
Nyssa arched a brow but tried the concoction. To her astonishment, the soldier's breathing eased within minutes, the angry flush fading from his cheeks.
Kael, who had been conferring with a captain nearby, turned toward them. Marin felt the change immediately — a subtle shift in the air that made her straighten instinctively. Her pulse quickened under the weight of his attention, part curiosity and part an inexplicable flutter of unease. There was something in the way his gaze swept over her, assessing and deliberate, that made her wonder if he saw more than she realised — and whether she wanted him to or not. His magic always thrummed quietly at the edge of perception, but now it seemed sharper, colder, as if the room itself had drawn in a breath. A faint frost began to edge the nearest water jug, a tell-tale sign his emotions were bleeding into his magic. He frowned slightly, studying Marin with a mix of curiosity and something unspoken. The frost edging the water jug deepened, and Nyssa shot him a side‑eye.
"General," she said pointedly, "cool off the cooling before you freeze my patient."
Kael exhaled through his nose, the frost retreating reluctantly.
"You've been here five minutes and cured a poisoning by accident," he said dryly, though his voice still carried that cool undertone that matched the recent chill in the room.
"It wasn't an accident," Marin muttered. "Just… unplanned."
Kael's gaze lingered. He could feel it — his ice magic humming higher, clearer, almost as if her presence was pulling it into focus. He remembered the war council, the market, every time she'd been near when something improbable happened.
Nyssa stepped closer to Marin, her expression thoughtful. "You have quite the talent for… fortuitous timing." Her voice was mild, but her eyes searched Marin's face as if weighing something important.
"It's not talent," Marin insisted, flustered. "I just… know things. My father was a merchant. You learn which plants ship well, which spoil in damp, which heal… or kill. It's practical, that's all."
Kael's mouth curved faintly. "Practical or not, you're staying."
Marin blinked. "Staying? Here?"
"Yes. In the field. At my side," he said simply, turning back to the captain as though the matter were already decided.
Nyssa and Marin exchanged a look, the healer's eyes glinting with something Marin couldn't quite read. In truth, Nyssa was studying her closely, the beginnings of a conviction forming in her mind that this clumsy, soft-spoken woman was something rare — perhaps even extraordinary. She leaned in slightly, so close Marin could feel the faint herbal scent clinging to her hair. Marin's cheeks warmed instantly under the scrutiny.
Kael's head turned sharply. His gaze flicked from Nyssa to Marin, his expression flattening. "Ny," he said, his tone edged with irritation, "give her some space."
Nyssa arched a brow but stepped back, lips curving in a faintly amused smile as if she'd just confirmed a suspicion. Marin, still flustered, avoided both their gazes.
But she could feel it — a tingling, almost magnetic pressure in the air, as if unseen threads were vibrating between them. It wasn't just a soundless hum; it was a soft thrum in her chest, a faint shimmer under her skin that made her more aware of every heartbeat. Her palms prickled, and she had the absurd thought that if she moved too suddenly, the air itself might catch her like a snare. It felt both physical and inexplicably magical, a pull that was equal parts curious and unsettling, drawing her attention to Kael whether she wanted it to or not. And she wasn't the only one; Nyssa's eyes flicked between them with open curiosity, like a man watching an experiment confirm itself.
Kael moved a step away to confer with Nyssa, and Marin's curiosity got the better of her. She caught the tail end of their hushed exchange.
"She's… unusual," Nyssa murmured, his tone a mix of curiosity and quiet awe. "It's like her presence steadies the flow around you — as if everything you do settles into place."
Kael's voice was quiet but firm. "I've noticed. And it's more than that — my magic sharpens when she's near. Every time. It's like a blade being honed in her presence."
Nyssa's lips curved knowingly, the corners lifting in that infuriating way he had when he thought he'd stumbled on a truth before anyone else. "Then perhaps she's exactly where she's meant to be — at your side."
Kael's expression didn't change much, but his gaze lingered in Marin's direction, unreadable, as if weighing the truth of Nyssa's words against his own instincts. "Keep that thought to yourself, Ny," he said at last, the undercurrent of warning unmistakable.
Nyssa gave a soft laugh and raised his hands in mock surrender, but his eyes said he'd already filed the observation away for later analysis. Marin, oblivious to the full conversation but sensing their attention, felt the heat climb to her cheeks. Beneath Kael's unwavering gaze, she had the strange, breathless sensation that they were speaking about far more than coincidence — and for the first time, she began to wonder if her clumsy luck was part of something far larger, and far more dangerous, than she'd ever imagined.