Gazes

Distracted by my conversation with Helena, I fail to notice Haroun quietly approaching. It's only when I reach for a glass of wine that I become aware of his presence, as he hands me a glass with his usual stoic demeanor. I wink at him, knowing that beneath his calm exterior, there's a subtle, beautiful hint of a smile just for me.

"Is it just me, or am I getting looks?" I ask Helena, my tone laced with suspicion. She responds with an incredulous expression, as if to say, "Are you serious?"

I genuinely have no idea what's going on until it clicks. Ah, of course. Just a few weeks ago, I was on display in a rather intimate scene. Oops. I had hoped they'd forgotten all about it by now. But seeing Haroun here must have reminded them. Not that I care much.

Wanting some air, I bid Helena goodbye and grab Haroun's arm. He guides me through the throng of nobles with the poise of an experienced knight, as if he's been doing this for years. I block out the curious gazes and focus on the strength and steadiness of the arm leading me.

Eventually, we make our way into the garden, which resembles more of a maze. There must have been a member of royalty obsessed with mazes at some point, considering the one in my palace garden and others I've seen. The hedges stretch tall and imposing around us, offering a sense of seclusion from the prying eyes inside.

"I'm already exhausted. How long has it been?" I ask Haroun, abandoning all pretenses of etiquette.

He chuckles softly. "Only a little over two hours."

I groan loudly in response. "You think it's funny?" I glare at him. "Try being trapped in this death trap of a corset and these irresponsible shoes."

We reach a fountain, its crystal construction giving it an almost magical appearance. I've thought about it before, but the royal family's use of crystal might rival even the Church. Most buildings only use a few crystals for light or in important places, but here, they are everywhere in the garden.

Haroun removes his jacket and places it on the marble edge of the fountain. I sit on it and play with the water, watching the light dance on its surface. I examine my perfectly manicured hand, mesmerized by the interplay of light and water, I am entertained by this. I just might be a child, I think to myself with a laugh.

I see a figure struggling in the distance. Upon closer inspection, I realize it's a bird—an injured one. I motion for Haroun to bring it to me.

Haroun gently retrieves the bird and brings it over. It has striking purple feathers. "Oh my, look at you, my sweet little thing," I say, carefully taking it from Haroun. The bird is hesitant at first but eventually relaxes in my arms.

I notice its wing is injured. With a soft glow, I release a bit of my divine power, watching as it envelops the bird. Slowly, the healing light mends its wing. The bird cautiously tries to spread its wing, and after a few attempts, it takes to the air.

I giggle as it circles around me and Haroun, its vibrant feathers gleaming in the light.

The few moments of peace are abruptly shattered. I sigh as I turn to see someone halted in their tracks by Haroun, his sword pressed firmly against the intruder's throat. The man's eyes widen in shock and fear.

Haroun's stance is unyielding, his gaze cold and piercing. "State your business," he demands, his voice low and menacing.

The man composes himself, impressive for someone so close to the jaws of death. "As expected of the genius of the century," he says, his tone attempting to convey respect despite the blade at his throat.

"Forgive me for my rudeness, Your Highness," he continues, his voice steadying.

I remain seated, showing no sign of alarm or curiosity.

"I'm from House Vossenfield. Pardon my inconvenient introduction," he says, his voice steady despite the tense situation.

"Haroun," I call out softly. Haroun hesitates for a moment before sheathing his sword, his eyes never leaving the man.

The Vossenfields are one of the major duke families that run the Empire, their authority is on par with the Starforges. That is saying something. I can't go around killing someone so important, after all.

The offending agent steps into the light, allowing me to observe his features more clearly. He has soft brown curly hair, and though it's difficult to tell in the dim light, his eyes might be blue. He is dressed in a dark green tuxedo, a bold choice considering most of the men I've observed tonight are in black. It's impressive, I suppose.

I remain silent, watching as he clears his throat and attempts to step closer. Haroun halts him immediately, his sword hand twitching slightly in warning.

"My name is Cedric Vossenfield, second son of Duke Vossenfield. I greet Her Royal Highness," he says, making a formal introduction with a respectful bow.