"Kael—" I try to speak, but the words are barely a wheeze.
His grip on my neck is iron, tightening until my vision starts to blur at the edges. Damn it, what did I mess up? My lungs are burning, and a frantic, primal panic set in. No. I can't die again. Not like this.
"Kael… just… loosen your grip… so I can speak," I manage to choke out.
My voice cracks horribly. I can feel the vibration of the words scraping against his palm, the friction burning my throat.
His eyes remain like frozen lakes—cold, unreadable, and devoid of mercy. But he listens. With a sudden, violent motion, he releases me, throwing me back onto the bed. My body thuds against the mattress, and I double over, gasping for air.
Cough! Cough!
Tears prick my eyes as I try to sit up, my hands trembling as they reach for my bruised throat. But I don't even get a second to breathe.
Before I can process anything else, Kaelen has already retrieved the sword he'd set aside.
The heavy blade whistles through the air, and suddenly, the cold, sharp edge is resting against my shoulder. The steel is pressing right against the skin of my neck, ready to behead me in a single blink.
He stands over me, a mountain of black armor and lethal intent.
"Speak," he commands.
"What are you doing, idiot?!" I choke out, my voice raw as I wipe my eyes.
The sword is a cold, terrifying weight against my skin. "I'm the real Cyrina Vaeloria! What gave you the idea I'm not?"
Kaelen doesn't flinch. He just stands over me, his shadow looming large against the bed canopy.
"You acted weird at the marriage ceremony," he says, his voice a flat, deadly rasp. "You looked lost. And now? You failed to even recognize me."
He shifts his weight, the tip of the blade pressing a fraction harder against my throat. He looks down at his boot, where a crushed white petal is pinned against the floor.
"Your tone is nowhere near a royal princess's," he continues, his eyes locking onto mine with lethal intensity. "And just now, I intentionally stepped on that flower while picking up the pieces. You're an Elf. Your blood should have boiled. You would have ordered my head off for it. You worship nature like your own mother, yet you didn't even notice."
He leans in, his face a mask of stone.
"So. Speak. Who are you?"
I try to keep my face from twitching. Ugh, he's sharp. He noticed everything. Talk about a top-tier royal bodyguard!
"Listen!" I snap, trying to sound more like an offended royal than a panicked intruder. "I wasn't 'lost.' I was getting married to your Lord—a man who is freezing cold toward me. It's a political marriage! He doesn't love me. My mind was full of a thousand thoughts at that moment!"
Kaelen's expression doesn't change, but his eyes track the movement of my throat as I swallow.
"And I told you, it's dark! That's why I failed to see you properly," I huff, gaining a bit of my 'Chaos Goblin' momentum back. "You didn't even say who you were when I asked!"
"I panicked. You expect royal tone when a blood-stained sword is being wiped clean on the balcony like it's just laundry?"
I glance down at his boot, still pinning the crushed petal to the floor. I need to fix the 'nature' mistake, and fast.
"Lastly, those flowers? You humans already ripped them from their plants just to stick them in a pot. It's not like they were going to live forever anyway," I say, my voice dripping with as much elven disdain as I can muster. "I have to get used to your cruel human ways of harming nature now that I'm married to one. Consider it... an effort to adapt."
The sword doesn't move. Kaelen stares at me, his gaze so intense it feels like he's trying to peel back my skin to see what's underneath.
"Adapt?" he repeats, the word sounding like a threat.
"Yes, adapt!" I snap, trying to look as firm as possible. "Isn't it better for the alliance of our races if we stay on good terms?"
For a long moment, he says nothing. His expression shifts from ice-cold to a deep, intense focus. He stares at my face without blinking, his body as still as a statue. Then, after a few agonizing seconds, he finally releases my neck and pulls back his sword.
Huh? That's it? He believed me? Just like that?
Before I can process my narrow escape, the bedroom door swings open. An older man in a black royal suit with salt-and-pepper hair and broad shoulders enters.
Kaelen immediately lowers his sword, placing the tip on the floor and bowing his head with the utmost respect. This cold-eyed butcher is suddenly acting like a disciplined student.
"Kaelen!" the man speaks, his voice booming with authority as he stands before him.
"Master Eldric. I'm sorry," Kaelen says, his voice low. "I was interrogating my lady."
Oh, so Kael respects this old man, Eldric?
Eldric looks at me with gentle eyes. His gaze drifts from the tears in my eyes to my uneven breathing, finally settling on the bruises on my neck.
"Your Highness," he says softly, stepping closer. He offers his hand like a true gentleman. I take it, feeling skin that is as firm and rough as a rock. He helps me sit up on the bed.
With a worried expression, he touches my neck softly with two fingers, humming a low spell. Instantly, the bruising vanishes. The burning in my throat is gone.
Ah, healing magic.
Master Eldric removes his hand and looks into my eyes, his voice soft. "I'm sorry on behalf of my pupil."
I can only nod, still a bit dazed, as he turns back to Kaelen.
"Master Eldric," Kaelen speaks up quickly. "I assumed my lady had been replaced by someone else. That is why I—"
"You didn't just try to snap her throat and draw your sword against Lady Cyrina," Eldric interrupts. "You created a barrier and released an immeasurable amount of your magic force all at once."
"I'm sorry, Master Eldric," Kaelen replies, his head still bowed. "I thought if someone else had replaced my lady and was hiding their magic, they would be unable to withstand sensing so much force at once. They would have tried to resist it with their own."
He looks toward me out of the corner of his eye.
"Since my lady is someone born with no magic force, she wouldn't even sense it. she would stay unbothered. Which is exactly what she did."
My thoughts go blank.
In a world built on magic—
I have none.
Not even a spark.