Chapter 196

The sun was warm on Freya’s face as she sat with her friends in the courtyard.

Lila, Mara, and Tessa were clustered around her on the stone bench, their voices a constant hum of gossip and laughter. They were talking about the upcoming graduation ceremony, about the dresses they would wear, about the boys they hoped would ask them to dance.

Freya listened with half an ear, her eyes scanning the courtyard. She was looking for someone, someone specific.

And then she saw him.

Dain Blackfang was walking toward her with his friends two other boys from the academy, both tall and broad-shouldered, both grinning. Dain was in the middle, his dark hair falling across his forehead, his gray eyes fixed on her.

“Freya.” He stopped in front of her, his friends hanging back. “Hey.”

“Hey.” She felt her cheeks flush. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to see you.” He glanced at her friends. “Can we talk? Privately?”

Lila and the others exchanged knowing glances. Then they stood and made themselves scarce, giggling as they walked away.

Freya stood, her heart pounding. “What’s going on?”

“I wanted to ask you something.” Dain took her hand. “Will you go on a date with me? Tonight? Just the two of us?”

Freya’s breath caught. “A date?”

“A real date. Dinner. A walk. Maybe some stargazing.” He smiled—that warm, gentle smile that made her heart flutter. “What do you say?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I’d love to.”

The date was perfect.

Dain took her to a small restaurant near the palace a quiet, intimate place with candlelit tables and soft music. They ate and talked and laughed, sharing stories about their childhoods, their families, their hopes for the future.

“I used to watch you from across the courtyard,” Dain admitted. “When we were children. You were always so bright, so full of life. I wanted to talk to you, but I was too shy.”

“You? Shy?” Freya laughed. “I don’t believe it.”

“It’s true. I was terrified of you.” He smiled. “You were a princess. I was just a noble’s son. I didn’t think I had a chance.”

“And now?”

“Now I’m braver.” He reached across the table and took her hand. “Now I know that you’re not just a princess. You’re Freya. The girl who loves flowers and hates spiders. The girl who laughs at my terrible jokes. The girl who makes me want to be better.”

Freya’s eyes glistened. “Dain—”

“I love you, Freya. I’ve loved you for as long as I can remember. And I want to be with you. Not just for a night. Not just for a season. But for always.”

“I love you too.” The tears were falling now happy tears. “I’ve loved you for so long. I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

He leaned across the table and kissed her soft and gentle and full of promise.

When they finally pulled apart, they were both smiling.

Dain walked her back to the palace, their hands intertwined.

The night was cool and clear, the stars bright above them. The city was quiet, the streets empty. It was the kind of night that felt like a dream.

“I had a wonderful time,” Freya said.

“So did I.” Dain squeezed her hand. “We should do this again. Soon.”

“I’d like that.”

They reached the palace gates and stopped. Dain turned to face her, his gray eyes soft.

“Thank you for tonight,” he said. “For giving me a chance.”

“Thank you for asking.”

He leaned in and kissed her again soft and gentle and perfect.

And then—

“Freya.”

She froze. She knew that voice. She turned slowly.

Soren was standing a few feet away, his golden eyes blazing. Beside him, Nyra was trying and failing to suppress a smile.

“Soren,” Freya said, her voice carefully neutral. “What are you doing here?”

“I was walking with Nyra.” His gaze shifted to Dain. “And I happened to see my little sister kissing a boy in front of the palace gates.”

Dain straightened. “Your Highness—”

“Don’t.” Soren stepped forward, his golden eyes fixed on Dain with an intensity that made the younger man flinch. “What are your intentions toward my sister?”

“Soren!” Freya’s voice rose. “You can’t just—”

“I can. And I will.” Soren crossed his arms. “Well? What are your intentions?”

Dain swallowed hard. “I—I care about her, Your Highness. Very much.”

“Care? What does that mean? Are you going to marry her? Are you going to protect her? Are you going to—”

“Soren!” Nyra finally intervened, stepping between them. “Stop it. You’re scaring him.”

“He should be scared.” Soren’s voice was hard. “She’s my little sister. She’s only thirteen. She’s too young for—”

“She’s not too young to be happy.” Nyra placed a hand on his chest. “And she’s not too young to be loved. Let her have this.”

Soren stared at her. Then he sighed a long, frustrated sound.

“Fine,” he said. “But I want to know everything about you, Dain Blackfang. Your future plans for my sister. Forget that your brother is my friend, if you ever hurt her—”

“I won’t,” Dain said quickly. “I promise.”

“See that you don’t.” Soren stepped back. “Now go. But remember—I’ll be watching.”

Dain bowed and fled.

Freya stared at her brother, her face a mixture of anger and embarrassment.

“You’re impossible,” she said.

“I’m your brother. It’s my job to be impossible.”

“You scared him away!”

“I was protecting you.”

“I don’t need protecting!” Freya’s voice rose. “I’m not a child anymore, Soren. I’m old enough to make my own decisions. Old enough to have a boyfriend. Old enough to—”

“You’re thirteen.”

“And you’re impossible!” She turned to Nyra. “How do you put up with him?”

Nyra was laughing, actually laughing, her silver eyes bright with amusement. “I ask myself that every day.”

“It’s not funny!”

“It’s a little funny.”

Freya huffed and stormed off toward the palace. But she stopped at the doors and turned back.

“You should break up with Nyra,” she called. “She’s someone else’s sister. If you can date someone’s sister, I can date someone’s brother.”

Soren stared at her. “That’s not—that’s completely different—”

“How?”

“Because—because—” He sputtered, unable to find the words.

Freya smirked and disappeared into the palace.

Nyra was still laughing. “She has a point.”

“She does not have a point.”

“She absolutely has a point.”

Soren turned to her, his expression exasperated. “You’re supposed to be on my side.”

“I’m always on your side.” She took his hand. “But I’m also on her side. She’s a young girl in love. Let her be happy.”

He sighed. “Fine. But if Dain Blackfang hurts her—”

“Then you can kill him.”

“I was going to say ‘have a stern talk with him.'”

“Same thing.”

He laughed despite himself. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Later that night, Freya cried to her mother about Soren.

“He’s so mean!” she sobbed, her face buried in the Queen’s shoulder. “He scared Dain away! He treats me like a child!”

Seraphina stroked her daughter’s hair, her expression gentle. “He’s your brother, sweetheart. He loves you. He just doesn’t know how to show it.”

“He has a terrible way of showing it.”

“I know. But he’s trying.” Seraphina paused. “You have to understand—Soren has lost so much. He lost his memories. He lost his life. He lost years with all of us. And you—you’re his little sister. The one person he’s always wanted to protect. The thought of someone hurting you—”

“I’m not going to get hurt.”

“You don’t know that. And neither does he.” Seraphina kissed her forehead. “Give him time. He’ll come around.”

Freya sniffled. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

At the academy, Corvin was in his laboratory.

He had been there for days working, researching, experimenting. The war was over. The darkness was defeated. And Corvin had finally found something to focus on besides Nyra.

Healing potions, he thought. Antidotes. Medicines. Things that can help people.

He had already made several breakthroughs new formulas, new techniques, new discoveries. The healers at the academy were using his potions to help the wounded. The elders were asking for his advice. Even his father had acknowledged his work.

I’m moving on, he realized. I’m actually moving on.

It felt strange. It felt good. It felt like a new beginning.

He looked at the photograph on his desk, the one of Nyra, Soren, and their friends at the festival. He smiled.

I’ll always love her, he thought. But I’m ready to find my own happiness now.

Marek was in the training grounds.

He had been there for hours practicing, perfecting, pushing himself to his limits. His sword was a blur. His movements were precise. His strength was unmatched.

And he was smiling.

It was a small smile barely noticeable but it was there. He was smiling at someone.

A boy named Tomas was watching him from the edge of the training grounds. He was small and slender, with dark hair and bright eyes. He had been watching Marek for weeks now, admiring his skill, admiring his strength.

And Marek had noticed.

He didn’t know what it meant. He didn’t know if it was anything. But when he saw Tomas watching him, he felt something something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Maybe, he thought. Maybe.

He kept training. But his smile didn’t fade.

Ragnar was also in the training grounds.

He had been training with his axe swinging, spinning, striking. His movements were powerful and precise. His scars—the ones on his face and body were badges of honor. His strength was legendary.

But there was a sadness in his eyes.

He was thinking about Finn. He was always thinking about Finn.

He’s in prison, Ragnar thought. He’s paying for what he did. And I—I’m here. Living. Fighting. Moving on.

But moving on was harder than he had expected. The boy he had loved, the boy who had betrayed him was still in his heart.

I’ll always love him, Ragnar thought. But I have to let him go.

He swung his axe again harder this time. The training dummy split in two.

I’ll keep fighting, he told himself. I’ll keep living. I’ll keep moving forward.

And he would.

At the academy, Soren found Valeria in the library.

She was sitting alone reading, as she always did. She looked up when he entered, her expression guarded.

“Soren.”

“Valeria.” He crossed the room and sat beside her. “I wanted to talk to you.”

“About what?”

“About everything.” He paused. “You helped save the realm. You helped capture the assassins. You helped protect Nyra. And I—I never properly thanked you.”

Valeria’s eyes glistened. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“I do.” He took her hand. “I was hard on you. I threatened you. I scared you. And you still did the right thing. You still chose to help. That takes courage.”

“Or self-preservation.”

“Maybe. But it still matters.” He squeezed her hand. “I’m proud of you, Valeria. I’m proud of who you’ve become.”

She stared at him. “You are?”

“I am.” He paused. “And I want you to know—I had a soft spot for you. When we were together. I liked you. I just didn’t realize it until it was too late.”

The tears were falling now hot and silent. “You liked me?”

“I did. I do.” He smiled a sad, gentle smile. “But we weren’t right for each other. We both know that now.”

“I know.” She wiped her eyes. “But it’s nice to hear.”

“I’m glad.” He pulled her into a hug gentle and warm and full of gratitude. “Thank you, Valeria. For everything. For being there for me. For loving me. For being my friend.”

She hugged him back. “Thank you, Soren. For giving me a second chance.”

In the academy gardens, Jasper and Maureen sat together on a stone bench.

They had been dancing around each other for weeks ever since Maureen had confessed her feelings. Jasper hadn’t given her an answer. He had been too afraid. Too uncertain.

But now, looking at her in the moonlight, he knew.

“Maureen,” he said.

“Yes?”

“I’ve been thinking. About us.”

She tensed. “And?”

“And I realized something. I realized that I’ve been scared. Scared of getting hurt. Scared of losing you. Scared of—” He paused. “Scared of being happy.”

“Jasper—”

“I love you, Maureen. I’ve loved you for a long time. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

Her eyes widened. “You love me?”

“I do.” He took her hand. “I want to be with you. I want to be your boyfriend. If you’ll have me.”

“Of course I’ll have you!” She threw her arms around him. “I’ve been waiting for you to say that for months!”

He laughed a rare, genuine laugh. “I’m sorry I took so long.”

“You’re worth the wait.”

He kissed her soft and gentle and full of promise.

“I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too.”

Nyra and Soren stood in the doorway of his suite at the academy.

It was exactly as he had left it the bed rumpled, the books scattered, the training equipment in the corner. It smelled like him pine and leather and something else. Something familiar.

“It’s been so long,” Nyra said.

“It has.”

They walked through the room slowly, remembering. The first time they had trained together. The first time they had kissed. The first time they had made love.

“So many memories,” Nyra said.

“So many.”

She stopped in front of the training room the room where Soren had pushed her to her limits, where she had learned to fight, where she had become strong.

“Do you remember the first time we sparred?” she asked.

“I remember you falling on your face.”

“I did not fall on my face.”

“You did. It was adorable.”

She glared at him. “I was not adorable. I was determined.”

“Determined and adorable.”

She shook her head. “You’re impossible.”

“So I’ve been told.”

She stepped into the training room and turned to face him. “I challenge you.”

He raised an eyebrow. “To what?”

“A duel. Right here. Right now. Just like old times.”

He smiled a slow, dangerous smile. “You think you can beat me?”

“I know I can.”

“We’ll see about that.”

They circled each other, their eyes locked. The air was charged with tension and anticipation.

And then—she lunged.