Legacy of The Enchanted

Fireside Confrontation

(Taryn's P.O.V.)

Roan found me later, sitting by the edge of the camp where the forest began to reclaim the land, lost in thought. He approached with that typical swagger of his, the kind that could only belong to someone who knew they could charm their way out of just about anything. My older brother, the ever-cocky prince, had an uncanny ability to read me like an open book.

"You seem distracted," he said, dropping down beside me with a casual grace. "What's on your mind, Ryn?"

I shrugged, trying to act normal. "Just thinking about the training today."

Roan's lips quirked into a knowing smirk. "Oh? Anything... specific from training?"

I shot him a glare, but he just chuckled, clearly enjoying himself. "What are you getting at?"

He leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows. "You like him, don't you?"

I felt a flush rise to my cheeks, my heart betraying me with a sudden spike in pace. "I don't like Archer!" I snapped, too quickly, too defensively. The second the words were out of my mouth, I realized my mistake. Roan's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Interesting," he drawled, "considering I never mentioned a name."

Damn it. I opened my mouth to retort, but nothing came out. Roan's laughter bubbled up, genuine and full of amusement, while I crossed my arms, feeling more flustered than I wanted to admit.

"I'm serious, Roan," I finally managed, trying to regain some composure. "It's not like that."

"Right," he said, drawing out the word with clear skepticism. "So, it's purely professional, then? All those stolen glances during training, the way you get all tongue-tied when he's around—completely professional."

I groaned, burying my face in my hands. "This is so stupid."

"No, it's not," Roan said, his voice softening just a bit. "Ryn, it's okay to like someone. Even someone as insufferably serious as Archer."

I peeked through my fingers, meeting his eyes. "You're one to talk," I muttered, deciding to turn the tables on him. "You like Alex, and you haven't done anything about it. Hypocrite."

Roan's grin faltered for just a moment, and I knew I'd hit a nerve. "That's different," he protested, though not very convincingly.

"Is it?" I challenged. "You're always giving me advice about making a move, but you can't even take your advice when it comes to Alex. What's the matter, Roan? Afraid of a little rejection?"

Roan let out a long sigh, his playful demeanor dropping. "It's not that simple, Taryn. Alli... she's different. She's got a lot to do, and the last thing she needs is me in the way. let's just drop it."

As the fire crackled softly, sending up glowing embers into the night sky, I found myself lingering on Roan's words. The warmth of the flames contrasted sharply with the gnawing confusion that had settled in my chest, a feeling I couldn't quite shake since the sparring match with Archer. I knew Roan was right—I couldn't keep my feelings bottled up forever—but the idea of confronting them made my stomach twist into knots.

"Do you think..." I began, hesitating. Roan turned his head slightly, waiting for me to continue. "Do you think it's stupid? The way I feel about Archer?"

Roan's expression softened, a rare moment of sincerity breaking through his usual bravado. "No, Ryn. It's not stupid. Confusing, maybe, but not stupid. Feelings don't always make sense, and that's okay."

I sighed, leaning back against the log, and staring up at the stars. "It's just... I've always been so focused, you know? Training, fighting, surviving. And now, out of nowhere, I'm suddenly... noticing things about him. Like how his hair's gotten a little longer since we got here, or the way his eyes look when he's concentrating." I shook my head, frustrated. "It's distracting."