The soldier bowed slightly. “We believe Lord entered the kingdom on his own… perhaps scouting. We weren’t aware the carriages we intercepted were royal. The princess’s, apparently.”

“Royal?” Drayce echoed, stepping back. He handed his sparring sword to a waiting soldier and reached for a towel, wiping the sweat from his jaw. 

The soldier hesitated, then continued. “We nearly had them. They were heavily guarded, but we had the advantage in numbers. Still… she redirected us.”

Drayce stopped wiping, lifting a brow. 

“She?” Drayce’s tone was sharp now.

The soldier straightened, nodding once. “Yes, Your Majesty. The royal girl. Blonde hair like sunlight itself was spun. And her green eyes, soft at first glance, almost timid.… until she spoke."

He faltered under Drayce’s steady gaze, then rushed on, as if defending himself from judgment that hadn’t yet come. He hesitated, then added more quietly:

“She looked delicate and gentle. The kind that needs protection. Her voice like command wrapped in honey. But she was actually like a rose which draws you in, until you got close and realized the thorns were real.”

Drayce tilted his head, in silence. The soldier shifted his weight, as if replaying the memory.

“Her dress was ruined, soaked through with mud. Her face was smudged with ash, hair tangled with twigs, blood trailing down her cheek. And still…"

He exhaled, the words coming slower now.

" she stood like she owned the field. And for the moment, it was clear we were the ones who didn’t belong there.”

A dry, nervous laugh escaped him.

“Even our men ......they paused when they saw her. She looked like something out of a dream."

He glanced up at Drayce, who remained unreadable, then pressed on, voice lowering.

“She saw right through our formation. And used the terrain to stall us. She directed her people to the creek bed. The ground there was slick, our horses lost footing, and in the chaos, her guard circled back.”

He paused, jaw tight. “It wasn’t luck. She orchestrated it.”

“She even requested reinforcements,” the scout added, still incredulous. “As if she knew exactly who to send for.”

Drayce turned toward him fully now, his expression gave nothing away.

He slowly removed his sparring gloves, letting them fall to the ground.

“A royal girl managed all that?” he asked.

The scout hesitated, then nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

He exhaled, a breath that seemed to carry the weight of everything he couldn’t explain.

“The men are saying… she wasn’t usual princess. Calm, focused. She gave commands like someone who’s been on the battlefield before. Our injured are calling her the Rose of Elarion. They are saying she was like something out of a legend.” 

Drayce’s expression didn’t change. But something behind his eyes did. Interest. Then, unexpectedly, he let out a single, dry chuckle.

“A rose.” He took a step forward. “And yet my soldiers were trampled by thorns.”

Drayce tossed the towel aside and stepped toward the edge of the training ring. As he walked away, the clink of armor followed as his guards fell into silent formation behind him.

But just before disappearing into his tent, he paused. He turned slightly. His voice came out low.

“What did you say her name was?”

“Elinessa, sire.”

He repeated it under his breath. 

“Elinessa…”

Then, a slow, cruel smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. He turned without another word sealing the name with him in the dark.

                                                           ******************************************

Soft light filtered through the  gauzy curtains. Everything was too still. My head throbbed, like I’d fallen off the edge of a dream and hit every sharp, splintered thought on the way down. I blinked. Once. Twice. My vision swam, shapes slowly coming into focus. The scent of something herbal hit my nose.

Where—?

The ceiling above me was familiar. My chambers. The canopy draped in soft silk, pale golden, embroidered with little vines. Above it, the ceiling’s mosaic came into view a pattern of translucent glass and gold-leaf panels, elegant by design, gleaming softly in the morning light. The glass caught the sun just enough to scatter warmth across the walls, while the gold reflected everything below in a fractured, delicate shimmer.

I sat up with a jolt. It all hit me at once. The ambush. The screaming. The blood. The heat of the fight. Renna’s hand slipping from mine. Callisto’s blade catching the moonlight. My torn dress— the thud of hooves. My stomach lurched.

Oh my god.

Heart hammering, I threw off the covers and scrambled to the edge of the bed, nearly slipping as my feet hit the floor. My fingers fumbled with the drawer on my bedside table before yanking it open with a sharp clatter.

There it was.

Tucked neatly in the corner, right where I had left it. A small plushie round, squishy, shaped like a fox with a tiny embroidered crown tilted jauntily to one side. Its button eyes stared up at me.I snatched it up, clutching it tight to my chest.

“Come on, come on…” I whispered.

A soft, melodic chime echoed through the room. Gentle and mechanical. Suddenly a static mechanical voice utterly useless echoed,

“Unable to connect to Companion AI 'Arlo.’ A system error has been encountered.”

I froze, clutching the fox plush tighter.

“Please remain calm.”

“The narrative experience has entered an unstable phase.”

“We are working to resolve the issue.”

“Participant: Sera Kim you must complete the remaining scenario manually.”

“We will resume system assistance shortly. Dreamsync apologize for the inconvenience.”