The next morning, Elara woke up early. She dressed herself and went down for breakfast, hoping to see the Empress or the Emperor. However, the dining hall was quiet.
The head maid approached Elara and bowed deeply. She had a serious look on her face.
"Good morning, Princess," the head maid said. "I have a message from the Empress Dowager.
She had to leave the palace suddenly and return to her private manor because something urgent happened there."
Elara felt a bit lonely in the giant white castle. The head maid added, "The Empress said that if you need anything at all, you may ask me. I am here to serve you while she is away."
Elara looked at the head maid. "Where is the Emperor?"
she asked.
"He is at the training grounds, Your Highness," the maid replied. "He has been there since before the sun rose."
Elara did not hesitate. "Please, take me there."
The head maid looked surprised but led Elara through the palace. They bypassed the library and the gardens, walking directly toward the sound of clashing steel. They reached a high stone balcony that overlooked a large, sandy arena.
Elara looked down. Below her, Emperor Khavan was in the middle of a fierce practice. He was not wearing his heavy royal cape or armor. He wore only a simple tunic, his sleeves pushed up to reveal strong arms. He moved like a whirlwind, his sword striking against the shields of four guards at once.
The "Iron Sun" of the South was even more imposing in person. His movements were not just for show; they were fast, dangerous, and precise. Elara stood at the edge of the balcony, her midnight blue dress fluttering in the warm breeze.
Suddenly, Khavan spun around, his sword whistling through the air as he forced all four guards to step back. The training stopped. The only sound was the Emperor's heavy breathing.
He didn't look at his men. Instead, he slowly tilted his head back and looked straight up at the balcony. His eyes were sharp and intense, locking onto Elara's gaze.
Elara stood still on the balcony, unable to look away. For the first time, she could see him clearly in the bright morning light.
Emperor Khavan was truly handsome, but it was a cold, sharp beauty. His dark, curly hair was messy from the training, with several damp locks falling over his face. His eyebrows were straight and calm, showing no emotion, which made his cold eyes look even more intense. He looked like a statue carved from marble, strong and unmoving.
He stood in the center of the sandy arena, the sun reflecting off the sweat on his skin. He didn't look angry that she was watching; he simply looked at her with a quiet, icy curiosity.
The guards stayed back, sensing the heavy silence between the Emperor and the Princess.
Elara walked down the stairs, her heart beating a little faster with every step. As she reached the sand, the heat of the courtyard rose up to meet her. The Emperor was standing there, his sword resting against his shoulder, watching her approach with those calm, cold eyes.
"You are an early riser, Princess," Khavan said. His voice was deep and smooth, like the sound of distant thunder. "Does the sun of the South wake you, or do you always walk the halls before the servants have even finished the floors?"
Elara kept her gaze steady, refusing to be intimidated by his cold stare. "The North has long winters, Your Imperial Majesty. We learn to appreciate the light the moment it appears."
Khavan wiped a stray lock of curly hair from his forehead. A small, almost invisible smile touched the corner of his mouth, but his eyes remained frosty. "And what does the 'Living Light' think of our training? Is it too brutal for a Northern court?"
"It is disciplined," Elara replied calmly.
"In Valerion, we believe that a sharp sword is useless without a sharp mind. It seems you possess both."
He went silent for a moment, clearly not expecting her to be so bold. He handed his practice sword to his aide without looking away from her.
"My mother has gone to her manor," he said abruptly. "The palace is quiet. Perhaps too quiet for a guest."
Elara looked at the water table and then back at Khavan. "The morning air has made me quite hungry, and I noticed the dining hall was empty," she said, her voice soft but brave. "Since the Empress Dowager is away, would you join me for breakfast, Your Imperial Majesty?"
Khavan paused, his hand halfway to a towel. He looked at her, his cold eyes scanning her face as if searching for a hidden motive. Usually, people were too afraid to ask him for anything, especially after he had walked out of dinner the night before.
"I usually eat alone in my study," he replied, his voice low.
"The palace is very large to eat in alone," Elara countered with a small, hopeful smile. "And I would like to hear more about the South from someone who actually leads it."
Khavan went silent, the damp curls of his hair casting shadows over his calm eyebrows. Finally, he gave a short nod to his aide.
"Tell the kitchens to set a table in the Jasmine Pavilion," he commanded. He turned back to Elara. "Give me ten minutes to change out of these clothes, Princess. Do not be late."
The Jasmine Pavilion was peaceful, but the air between Elara and Khavan felt heavy. They sat across from each other at a small marble table filled with fresh fruits, honey, and warm bread
Khavan did not touch his food. He leaned back, his cold eyes fixed on Elara. He decided to be completely honest, skipping the polite royal talk.
"You are a guest here, Princess, so I will not lie to you," Khavan said, his voice as sharp as his sword. "I have no desire for this marriage. This alliance was the work of the nobles and my mother. They worry about borders and bloodlines; they do not care about the people involved."
He brushed a curly lock of hair away from his calm face. "I am a man of war, not a man of the court. I have already lost one wife to the shadows of this life, and I do not intend to let the nobles force another woman into this palace just to satisfy their politics."
Elara felt the sting of his words, but she did not look away. He was being straightforward—he was telling her that he was opposed to the wedding because he felt the nobles were using them like chess pieces.