Haitham laid on the bed, not bothering to get under the covers. Daliya pulled one of the chairs and sat next to him.

  “You think they’ll be back?” Daliya asked after a while.

  “Who knows.” He shrugged. “For their sake, I hope not.”

  She hesitated before asking, “Weren’t they comrades of yours? Are you truly enemies now?”

  He paused. “It’s more complicated than that. They just want to hurt the empire back for what they did.” He looked at her. “I want a future for my people. I want them to live without fear, to look upon tomorrow with hope, to lie down on the golden fields and watch the sunset, knowing it wouldn’t be the last time. I want them to know that the sun shall always rise again.” His lips twisted in displeasure. “The resistance had a clear goal once, but now, they’ve become directless, striking at their enemies without an end goal in mind. What they’re doing doesn't serve our cause. It ensures the continuous enslavement of our people.” He paused. “I wish he could see that.”

  Daliya knew who he was talking about. She laid her hand on his shoulder and squeezed gently.

  She leaned on the back of the chair. “Ten fire wielders against one. That was a bit too close for my liking. For a second there, I thought they could overwhelm you.”

  He huffed. “They were no match for me.” He crossed his arms behind his back. “It would have been better if they listened to what I said instead of attacking me. I gave them more than a chance to back off. They’re too stubborn for their own good.” He turned to her, smiling. “You helped. Gotta admit, you’ve gotten a long way since you started training.”

  “A little bit.” She shrugged.

  At that time, she focused more on protecting the castle staff than taking down the intruders.

  He tutted. “Humble isn’t a good look on you.”

  She snorted. “I’m glad you’re fine. I wouldn’t want to look for a new bodyguard. I doubt I’ll find someone as disrespectful and rude as you.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I’m afraid I’m one of a kind.”

  “Thankfully.” She gave him a dry look, but the smile she tried to contain clearly betrayed her amusement.

  He laughed.

  Suddenly, in the mind of teasing him, she shot him a serious look. “You’re laughing. It seems you’re feeling better now. Well then…” She clapped him on his shoulder and made to stand up, but Haitham’s hand stopped her.

  “That’s not how it works,” he complained. “I’m still hurting! Look! I haven’t removed my bandages yet.”

  He acted more like a spoiled child than a seasoned assassin. If Daliya hadn’t seen his prowess in battle against the monsters, she would have doubted him.

  She glanced at him, a teasing smile on her lips as she tilted her head. “I had thought Mister Bodyguard was stronger than letting a small wound bring him down to his knees. Was I perhaps mistaken?”

  He hesitated, glancing at her and then away. “I’m still human, you know. I get hurt, too.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest. “Alright. I’ll stay here till you fall asleep and then return to my room.”

  He perked up. “What about tomorrow?” he asked, hopeful.

  She raised an eyebrow at him. “I’ll be back tomorrow for breakfast. But,” She raised a finger in protest. “I expect to have my bodyguard fully functional by then.”

  He settled back on the pillow, a satisfied grin on his lips. “Fine. You got your deal.” He gestured to the table by the window. “There’s still some fruits there, I think.” He squinted at the basket illuminated by the floating sphere of fire.

  The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

  Daliya blinked. When did he use his powers?

  He nodded when he confirmed his suspicion. “There are some grapes and peaches there.” He turned his grin towards her. “Feed me.” At her scowl, he hurriedly added, “Oh, my arm. It still hurts, you know.” He clutched his arm, looking at her with an exaggeratedly pained expression.

  She huffed. This was going to be a long night.

  Just as she stood up to do her immature bodyguard’s bidding, a knock sounded at the door. The maid seemed reluctant to enter. She glanced at the bed, a knowing glint in her eyes, then back at Daliya, then bowed, apologizing for interrupting them.

  Daliya sighed. She could feel the rumors traveling around the castle like a blizzard. The maids must have much free time to concern themselves with her personal life. Perhaps she should double their workload.

  “An emissary from the capital is asking for an audience, your Highness.”

  The capital? What did the emperor want with her?

  Daliya paused. She glanced at Haitham, who was leisurely twisting small fire orbs around his fingers.

  “I’ll wait,” he said, leaning leisurely back on the cushions.

  The emissary was a middle-aged man with a black uniform devoid of colors. He regarded Daliya with a scrutinizing look. She leveled him with a stare and ordered him to state his business.

  “Sire Randal, emissary of his majesty, the sun of the empire, the bringer of light, the savior of the continent, the scourge’s bane, and humanity’s last hope.” He leveled Daliya with a look, then bowed. His words were clipped. A vein in his neck ticked as his jaw clicked. “At your service.”

  Daliya stared at his rigid form. That was quite a mouthful. What did the emperor do to attain all those titles?

  When the man failed to move, she cleared her throat. Right.

  “Rise.”

  He clicked his tongue, a barely hidden scowl on his face. The people of the capital didn't harbor the same fear for her. She wondered whether she should let his blatant disrespect go unpunished. Should she use her powers and humble him a bit?

  Before she made up her mind, the man spoke.

  “Please excuse the late hours. The gates had been closed, and the knights had forbidden me from entering the castle. Otherwise, I would have asked for an audience with Your Highness a while ago.”

  There was a hint of bitterness to his words and not an ounce of regret. In fact, he sounded irritated that he had to wait, resentful even.

  “Imagine my surprise when I heard the castle had been attacked. And by none other than rebels.” He raised his brow in feigned surprise.

  “The situation is under control. No life was lost.” She waved him off. “Now, Sir Randal–”

  “I heard this was the second attack, and in such a short time at that. I wonder what might have boldened them to come to a head against Your Highness.”

  “Are you implying anything, Sir Randal?”

  They stared at each other. The emissary looked at her with such brazen confidence.

  “Could it be the Southerner filth Your Highness is keeping by your side? I find it peculiar that these sudden attacks occurred as soon as he appeared.” When she didn’t say anything, he continued. “I’m sure His Majesty would like to know the reason. Perhaps Your Highness would like to shed some light on the matter?”

  Did the whole empire know about Haitham? These people were worse than the aunties back at home.

  “Such matters are far above your rank, emissary. Perhaps you should better care about your own tasks.” She paused, watching the color of his face turn a deeper shade of scarlet. “Why are you here, Sir Randal?”

  Daliya was running out of patience. If he didn’t state his business the next time he opened his mouth, she would throw him out the hall. Let him interrogate the other staff for more tea for the emperor. She wasn’t going, nor was she willing to cooperate.

  His jaw tensed. She could hear the sound of his teeth grinding from where she stood.

  “I’m here on behalf of His Majesty to invite Your Highness to the grand festivities at the honor of the Throne’s Day.”

  “Ah, of course.”

  Festivities. Nothing she couldn’t handle.

  When she returned to Haitham’s room, she found him sound asleep. She tiptoed to his side and gently covered him. She breathed on the flame orb hovering by his side, freezing it. Then, she took it next to the window where she sat looking at the silent forest outside.

  She didn’t know when she dozed off, but when she opened her eyes, the morning light shone through the window. She blinked and glanced at the now empty bed. She sat up, and the quilt covering her fell in a heap in her lap.

  “Oh, you’re awake?” Haitham asked from the door. He had a tray balanced in one arm, filled with food.

  “I figured you’d be tired, so I got you breakfast. This old man was insisting I wake you up to speak to him. I told him I’d carve him up were he to dare open this door. Glad he listened.”

  Daliya blinked, her brows furrowed in confusion. Then she remembered.

  Perfect. First act of the day: threaten the emperor’s emissary.

  Well, to be honest, the pompous jerk had it coming.

  She moved the fruit basket to the side.

  The emissary could wait for a while. For now, she would be having breakfast.