Not Care A Whit

Kalina shifted her body weight subtly without visually altering her military-square position. Her first time at the imperial palace? Yes. Was she intimidated by the grave and superior atmosphere of those nobles? Not even in dreams. Did she feel out of place? Completely.

Kalina's gaze slid lazily over one of many golden columns that were standing near the throne podium. There was gold even in the false ceiling of the palace. She could easily sneak any night to take one of those sculptures and... She quickly cut off that train of thought.

The palace's architecture was breathtaking. An ordinary person would have felt like an insect before the enormous dimensions, the magnificence, and the beauty reigning in every corner. And ¿what to say about the decoration? Kalina had seen flower bouquets as big as a tree. And countless works of art such as paintings, wall paintings, and splendid sculptures. The immense crystal and gold chandelier hanging above her head was itself a beautiful work of art.

Lastly were the members of the council, gathered in the throne room. They represented the highest-born nobles throughout the empire. Those who had deigned to look at Kalina had not bothered to hide their contempt for her.

I don't care a whit... 

Or at least that's what Kalina told herself. The truth: she was suppressing the desire to show them how dangerous could be, even dare to look at her. However, there was one particular nobleman, who continued to watch her with some interest. He was, by far, the youngest of all the aristocrats present, and Kalina could sense a spark of energy in him. He was also handsome in a conventional way.

Suddenly, there was movement in the council seats, and finally, someone stepped forward from the side of the throne podium. It was a group of three people led by an eldest of noble bearing and benevolent gaze.

The newcomers advanced with confidence and dignity. Kalina knew the ringleader: he was the second minister. His name was Petro Harluz. He was in charge of Sacra Terra's relations with foreign kingdoms. 

At one side of the minister came the chancellor, who carried the royal seal. On the other side marched a formidable-looking guard. He was taller than Irion and perhaps more heavily built. He came fully equipped: armor, including a helmet that hid any facial features. Kalina tried to discern the warrior's energy, but she obtained nothing. Total void. She was about to raise an eyebrow because something simply didn't quite fit. Then, the minister cleared his throat as he unrolled an immense scroll with golden handles.

It was a royal proclamation that announced and took for granted the peace treaty between the two nations: Sacra Terra and Aladar.

Kalina listened attentively until she got bored. The political proclamations, formalities, and treaties were definitely boring. She was trying to suppress a yawn when she had the impression of being watched by the armored guard. She could have sworn he had giggled.

After looking at him suspiciously, Kalina glanced sideways at Irion and found his golden pupils in total concentration. ¿How could he be so attractive…? Family. She reminded herself and tried to pay attention to the end of the proclamation.

Another giggle reached Kalina's ears. It was as if only she could have heard it.

Kalina looked straight at the soldier's silver helmet. ¿Where did he sound familiar from? That soft, cheeky laugh.

¡You! Fire Eyes.