“It was really reckless what you did at the Arena yesterday,” Lysandra said as they were walking through the Palace’s corridor.

Ever since she came to meet Saria after the fight, she acted weird. She was colder, less playful, almost seemed angry about something.

“I had things under control. I knew what I was doing,” Saria answered, following after her.

The Princess was heading to the city to visit the market, and for some reason requested her to join.

While it wasn’t her preferred way of spending her free time, given Lysandra’s already weird behavior, she didn’t want to make things worse.

After all, it could also give her an opportunity to figure out what caused this sudden change.

“That’s why I didn’t tell you about the healing in the first place,” Lysandra sighed, “What if the enchantments didn’t work? What if you were injured too severely?”

“But I wasn’t. I made sure to protect the weak spots, and I did it. I won the fight and the enchantment healed me fully.” Saria couldn’t understand why Lysandra was reacting so strongly to this.

She saw her fight before, and it wasn’t the first time she saw her injured either. If anything, this time, she was healed right away without any issues.

Lysandra stopped in front of the carriage and looked at her. “But you still felt the pain, didn’t you? Every single time the arrow hit, you felt it all the same, even if the wound healed.”

Saria didn’t answer, but her silence was telling enough.

“Exactly,” Lysandra said and got inside the carriage.

“I don’t want you to do something so risky ever again,” she continued with the same cold voice as before, when both of them were inside, “If this is how you’re planning to fight, abusing the healing glyphs on the armor, then I won’t arrange another match.”

Saria wanted to protest. She wanted to tell Lysandra that, judging from the memories she saw during the meeting with the Oracle, she had experienced a lot worse.

However, something told her that it’s better to keep it to herself.

“I won’t do it again,” she said instead.

The golden irises pierced her. “Promise me,” she demanded.

In that moment, under all of that anger and cold, Saria noticed the worry in Lysandra’s eyes. It made her figure out that the whole scene must have looked much worse from the audience than it was in reality.

Feeling guilty for making her so worried, Saria met her eyes and smiled gently. “I promise,” she said, holding her gaze.

Lysandra visibly relaxed. The warmth returned to her eyes, and a soft, content smile curved her lips.

She was not expecting her to agree so easily, but it only made her more pleased.

Seeing that the Princess was back to her usual self, Saria decided to solve another mystery. “Will you tell me now where are we going?” she asked.

Lysandra flashed her a smug smile. “We’re going to get you a new armor.”

“Another? What is wrong with this one? Don’t tell me you want to get rid of the healing. I already said I won’t do anything stupid anymore!”

Lysandra laughed.

“And I believe you. This armor won’t be for the Arena,” she said, “After what happened at the villa, I realized that you will need something to protect you outside too.”

Even now, the Princess couldn’t forget the sight of the bruises covering Saria’s back and all the wounds and cuts that the explosion caused. She felt responsible.

She should have known better than to send her without providing the proper tools. It was her mistake, but, fortunately, she still had the opportunity to make things right.

Saria was risking so much already. Making sure that she had the best tools at her disposal was the least she could do.

“Why do you need me with you this time? I thought you knew my measurements already. The Arena armor fits perfectly," Saria smirked.

Lysandra responded in kind. “This time, they need to be more thorough, since I can’t have you running half naked while hunting my brother.”

She glanced outside the window, then back to Saria. “He doesn’t deserve the view,” she sighed.

The visit to the armorer didn’t take long, but Saria had a suspicion it was because it wasn’t just an ordinary shop.

Everything from the tools used to the way they were led to the lower level of the place felt like whatever service Lysandra paid for wasn’t available to just anyone.

At the end, they were told that the armor would take at least a couple of days, and that a messenger would be sent to the Palace to inform them when it was ready.

From there, their business in the city was done.

“We can head back to the Palace now,” Lysandra said when they left the store, “Unless…” she glanced at Saria, her eyes lingering on the simple tunic, “You received quite a significant reward from the fight. You could afford better clothes now.”

“I thought slaves weren’t allowed to wear anything else than a tunic,” Saria asked, puzzled.

Lysandra’s lips curved in a daring smile. “As the Princess of the Aelius Empire, I hereby grant you permission to wear whatever you want.”

Her loud voice made the heads around them turn to look at them with curiosity. Some people, who heard what she said, grimaced disapprovingly at the statement. Others nodded in amusement.

“If someone has anything against what you’re wearing, just send them my way. I will deal with them,” Lysandra added proudly.

Saria smiled. It seemed that the Princess had completely gotten over her anger from earlier.

Before she could reply, they heard a male voice directed at them.

“Well, well, well… What do we have here? The Princess is causing trouble publicly since early morning? How scandalous!” the man said, gasping theatrically.

He was tall, with an athletic body covered with a simple, yet clearly expensive, white toga. His handsome face was still carrying signs of boyish charm, especially in his honest, wide grin and warm, dark eyes.

He leisurely came over and stopped right in front of Lysandra at a distance that Saria deemed as ‘way too close’.

She was about to do the job the guards were clearly failing to do when she noticed Lysandra smiling softly at the man.

“Therion,” she said, greeting him, “What brings the young master to the market so early?”

“Oh, you know me. Always looking for exotic delicacies,” he said, shamelessly staring at Saria.

A shiver ran down her spine, her hand itched to wipe that infuriating grin off his face.

“Isn’t that the person who ignited the hottest gossip around the city, in the flesh?” he asked and moved closer. “I saw your fight yesterday. Who would have thought that such a graceful flower could be so brutal?”

In any other case, she would have already given him a handful of her thoughts about that sleazy remark. However, since it was someone Lysandra knew and liked, Saria didn’t want to cause any trouble.

So she forced a grimace that was supposed to be a smile. “Thank you, my lord. I hope you enjoyed the show,” she answered flatly.

Hearing the stiff and forcefully polite answer, Lysandra couldn’t hold back a giggle. “It’s alright. Therion is my close friend. There’s no need to be formal with him.”

She didn’t need to be told twice.

A sly smile replaced the uncomfortable grimace on Saria’s face as she pierced him with her crimson eyes. “If that’s the case, then keep staring, my lord, and I’ll show you just how brutal this graceful flower can be.”

Therion blinked twice, completely dumbfounded. Then laughed out loud. “You always find the most interesting people, Lysandra.”

The Princess looked at Saria, a smile tugging at the corner of her lips. “You have no idea how interesting,” the Princess said and tucked a stray strand of Saria's black hair behind her ear.

Instinctively, Saria leaned into the touch. It was a small gesture, barely noticeable, but Therion saw it.

An unreadable expression washed over his face before the same boyish grin as earlier took its place.

“There’s no use talking in the middle of the street. Let’s go to my villa. I just received a shipment of Shahrezi wine,” he said, and led them to the carriages.