The Hidden Princess

Chapter Twenty-three

"You care for her."

A week passed, and what had once been mere whispers in the castle corridors had solidified into a harsh reality. Gareth sat in the war room, tension coiling tightly in his chest as he faced the somber expressions of his father, King Eldrin, and the assembled advisors. The heavy oak table between them felt like a chasm, separating Gareth from the weight of the knowledge they were all grappling with. In the center of the table lay a letter, its parchment crisp and stark against the dark wood, a proclamation of impending conflict that felt all too real.
The air was thick with anticipation, a charged silence hanging over the room as Gareth's eyes flicked from the letter to his father's face, searching for any sign of what to do next. King Eldrin's jaw was set in a grim line, his normally authoritative demeanor dimmed by the grim news. Gareth had always admired his father's composure in crises, but today there was a flicker of uncertainty in his gaze that sent a chill through Gareth.
The letter's words echoed in Gareth's mind: a spy had infiltrated enemy territory and confirmed the rumors of war. It wasn't just a threat anymore; it was a certainty. Their kingdom had enemies at the gates, and Gareth felt the weight of responsibility settle on his shoulders like a shroud. He had always been prepared to defend his home, but the reality of it was far more daunting than any practice drill or sparring match.
King Eldrin stands straighter, a commanding presence in the dimly lit war room as he prepares to address the assembly. Gareth instinctively mirrors his father's posture, embodying the weight of responsibility that comes with being a prince. The atmosphere is charged, each advisor's expression taut with anticipation, their previous hushed conversations dwindling to silence as they turn their attention to the king and prince.
"This news is grave," Eldrin begins, his voice resonating with authority, filling the space with an undeniable gravity. "However, we must act smart. We mustn't let them know we have a spy within their army. We mustn't let them know we know of the attack." His eyes sweep across the room, making deliberate eye contact with each advisor as if to emphasize the seriousness of the situation. Gareth can see the tension etched on their faces, the understanding that the stakes have never been higher.
Gareth nods along with the others, his mind racing as he absorbs his father's words. Every detail matters now, every decision could tip the scales of fate in their favor or against them. He can feel the weight of the kingdom's future resting heavily on their shoulders, a burden that feels almost unbearable yet is crucial for their survival.
"Sir, how should we prepare?" one of the advisors asks, his voice steady despite the tension in the room. He glances toward the table littered with stacks of papers-battle plans, troop movements, and logistics all laid out in anticipation of this moment. "Should we send the plans to the guards? They need to be ready, but-"
Eldrin interrupts, raising a hand to silence the murmurs. "Not yet. We must ensure that our preparations remain shrouded in secrecy. We will not give our enemies any advantage by revealing our knowledge or intentions." His tone is resolute, leaving no room for dissent. "Instead, I want our forces on alert. We will conduct our drills under the guise of routine exercises, but we will be ready for a full-scale mobilization should it become necessary."
Gareth's heart quickens at the mention of drills. "Father, should we not also consider the safety of the citizens? If we anticipate an attack, we must ensure they are aware and can seek refuge," he interjects, his voice steady despite the storm of emotions raging within him. The thought of chaos spilling into the streets, the innocent caught in the crossfire, is almost unbearable.
Eldrin nods, acknowledging Gareth's concern. "You are right, Gareth. I will send word to the local leaders to bolster the defenses around the village and make preparations for evacuation if needed. We cannot allow panic to spread, but we must also be ready for the worst. A well-prepared citizenry can help us weather the storm."
The advisors murmur their agreement, the tension in the room slightly easing as they focus on the task at hand. Gareth can see the wheels turning in their minds as they begin to strategize. He feels a sense of purpose swell within him; he knows he must be a part of this, a voice among them, not just a passive observer.
"Furthermore," Eldrin continues, his gaze sharp as it locks onto Gareth, "I want you to lead the training exercises with the guards. Your familiarity with their strengths and weaknesses will be invaluable in preparing them for the possibility of an attack."
Gareth feels a rush of pride at his father's words, but it is quickly tempered by the weight of expectation. "Yes, Father," he replies, his mind racing with the logistics of how to best prepare the guards. He knows the importance of instilling confidence in their ranks, but it is not without its challenges.
As discussions unfold around troop movements and logistical support, Gareth's thoughts drift back to Liora. How could he protect her when everything around them felt so uncertain? He wanted her to be involved, to feel empowered, but their father's orders were clear. She had to stay away from the conflict, and he couldn't risk her safety.
After the meeting concludes, a heavy silence blankets the war room, the air thick with unspoken thoughts and worries. King Eldrin rises, his expression resolute as he gestures for the advisors to remain vigilant. With a firm nod to Gareth, he strides toward the door, his purpose clear. Gareth knows he will discuss the plans with Queen Elara, but the thought of their impending conversation does little to ease the burden on his heart.
Gareth, feeling a mix of apprehension and determination, exits the war room and steps into the cool corridors of the castle. The familiar stone walls seem to echo the weight of his thoughts. What would happen next? Would his father be able to maintain the calm facade when chaos loomed so closely? His mind races, haunted by the image of Liora and the worry for her safety.
As he makes his way through the castle, he cannot shake the feeling of impending consequences. Gareth had taken a risk by allowing Liora to practice her magic, and though he wanted to shield her from the repercussions of her actions, he feared he would pay for his decision in ways he couldn't yet imagine.
When he reaches Liora's chamber, he pauses at the door, the familiar ache of guilt settling in his chest. Rowen stands guard just outside her door, his posture rigid, eyes scanning the corridor with the vigilance of a hawk. Gareth feels a mix of gratitude and irritation at the guard's presence; Rowen had sworn to protect Liora, but Gareth couldn't help but wonder if he should have been the one watching over her instead.
"Is she all right?" Gareth asks, his voice barely above a whisper, as he moves closer to Rowen. The guard's face remains impassive, though Gareth can sense the tension beneath the surface.
"She's resting," Rowen replies, his tone neutral. "But I'm not sure how well she's taking everything. The injury on her side concerns me." He shifts slightly, the concern in his eyes betraying his stoic demeanor.
"You care for her." It wasn't a question and it catch Rowen off guard.
The weight of Gareth's words hung heavily in the air, and Rowen blinked in surprise, momentarily lost for words. He hadn't expected Gareth to confront him so directly about his feelings for Liora.
"Gareth, I-" Rowen started, but Gareth cut him off, his tone unyielding.
"You don't have to deny it. It's obvious to anyone who's been paying attention," Gareth continued, crossing his arms over his chest. "I've seen the way you look at her when you think no one is watching. You care for her more than just as a guard."
Rowen's heart raced as he grappled with Gareth's assertion. He had always tried to maintain a professional distance, to keep his feelings in check, but they had grown stronger with each passing day spent in Liora's presence.
"I'm just doing my job," Rowen said defensively, but the lack of conviction in his voice gave him away.
Gareth stepped closer, his expression serious. "Is that all it is? You're willing to risk your position as a guard just to be near her? This isn't some trivial crush, Rowen. This is my sister we're talking about."
"I know that," Rowen replied, his voice low but firm. "And I take my duty seriously. I'm here to protect her."
"Then why do you look at her like that? She deserves someone who cares for her without hesitation, without the fear of losing everything." Gareth's eyes narrowed, a hint of accusation coloring his tone.
Rowen felt the heat rise to his cheeks. "I care about her safety, and I've been trained to protect her. That's what matters."
Gareth studied him for a moment, then shook his head, disbelief etched across his features. "You can't fool me. It's more than that, Rowen. You can't pretend you don't feel anything. And if you care for her, you need to be honest with yourself-and with her."
Rowen's mind raced. Did Gareth truly understand the depths of his feelings? Or was he simply projecting his own concerns? "It's complicated," Rowen said finally, running a hand through his hair. "I'm her guard. It's my responsibility to keep my distance, to protect her without getting emotionally involved."
"But that's where you're wrong," Gareth pressed, his voice urgent. "Being emotionally involved doesn't make you less of a guard; it makes you more human. Liora is going through a lot right now. She needs someone she can trust, someone who believes in her. If you care for her, you owe it to both of you to be honest."
The challenge in Gareth's gaze pierced through Rowen's defenses. Could he really allow himself to feel? To admit that he cared for Liora more than just as a duty?
"I don't want to put her in danger," Rowen confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "What if something happens to her because of me?"
Gareth's expression softened. "That's the risk we all face. But keeping your feelings locked away won't protect her. It might even hurt her more in the long run. If she senses that you're holding back, she could feel isolated, even more alone than she already does."