The Last Order

Chapter 3: The Maiden's Desire

The gardens of Avaloria sprawled like a painted dream, vibrant and lush, with winding pathways lined with roses in full bloom. The air was rich with the scent of jasmine, and birds flitted through the branches of towering oaks, their songs filling the quiet morning. Yet, for Ally, the beauty of her surroundings only heightened her restlessness. She wandered the paths in silence, her silk gown rustling with each step, her thoughts far from the tranquil world around her.

Ally Kinsley was not the typical noblewoman of Avaloria. Born into a life of privilege, she had everything a maiden could desire—wealth, beauty, and influence. Her father, Lord Kinsley, was one of the most powerful men in the kingdom, a close advisor to King Steven himself. Her mother, Lady Celia, was renowned for her grace and poise, her every step a lesson in nobility. Ally had been groomed to follow in her mother's footsteps, to be the perfect lady, the future wife of some highborn lord, to host grand parties and smile sweetly for the court. But that was not the life she craved.

Her heart yearned for something more—something beyond the confines of the castle walls, beyond the gilded cage in which she had been raised. Adventure, danger, excitement—these were the things that filled her dreams, not the dull dances and meaningless conversations that made up her daily existence. She longed to see the world, to discover the secrets of the ancient lands, to wield her own strength in a life that was hers alone. But such desires were dangerous, especially for a maiden of her standing.

It was during one of her daily walks through the gardens that Ally first heard the whispers about Valen. The servants had been gossiping, as they often did, and his name had passed between them like a secret too heavy to keep. A knight, they said, but unlike any they had ever seen before—his armor battered and worn, his sword glowing with a strange, otherworldly light. He had come to the castle at the king's request, though none knew why. But there was one thing everyone agreed on: Valen was no ordinary man.

Ally had listened, her heart quickening with curiosity. A knight from a faraway land, shrouded in mystery? A man who had faced the darkest of foes and lived to tell the tale? She could feel the pull of his story, the thrill of something unknown, something dangerous. It wasn't long before her desire to learn more had overtaken her good sense.

That afternoon, while the sun dipped low in the sky, casting long shadows over the castle grounds, Ally found herself slipping away from the safety of her chambers, her heart pounding with a mixture of fear and excitement. She had no real plan, only the vague hope that she might catch a glimpse of the man who had ignited her curiosity.

As she made her way through the castle's maze of stone hallways, her soft slippers barely making a sound, she finally caught sight of him. Valen stood alone in the far courtyard, his back turned to her, his figure outlined against the dying light of the evening sky. He was taller than she had imagined, his frame broad and imposing, his armor—scarred and battle-worn—speaking of countless battles fought and survived.

For a moment, Ally hesitated, the sheer presence of him enough to steal her breath. What was she doing here? What did she hope to gain from this encounter? But the pull was too strong, and before she could think better of it, she stepped forward.

"Sir Valen," she called softly, her voice trembling with both nerves and anticipation.

The knight turned slowly, his face obscured by the shadows, though his green eyes glinted in the fading light. He regarded her with a cold, impassive stare, and for a moment, Ally felt as though she were standing before a statue, a figure carved from stone rather than flesh and blood. His gaze was piercing, calculating, as though he were sizing her up, determining whether she was a threat or simply a nuisance.

"Who are you?" His voice was low, rough, like the scrape of steel against stone.

"I am Ally," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "Ally Kinsley. My father is Lord Kinsley, advisor to the king."

Valen's expression did not change. If her name meant anything to him, he gave no indication. He simply turned his gaze back toward the courtyard, dismissing her without a second thought. "You shouldn't be here," he said, his tone final. "This is no place for a noblewoman."

Ally felt a spark of defiance flare in her chest. She had spent her entire life being told where she could and couldn't be, what she could and couldn't do. And now this stranger, this knight who knew nothing of her, was telling her the same?

"I disagree," she said, stepping closer. "I've heard the stories about you, Sir Valen. They say you are a knight without a master, that you've faced dangers few could imagine."

"And?" Valen's tone was flat, uninterested.

"And I want to know more," Ally pressed. "I want to understand what it is you're fighting for. What brought you here, to Avaloria?"

Valen's gaze flicked back to her, a flicker of something—annoyance, perhaps, or amusement—crossing his face. "Curiosity is a dangerous thing, Lady Kinsley," he said. "It can get you killed."

Ally straightened her shoulders, refusing to back down. "I'm not afraid of danger."

Valen's lips twitched, though it was not quite a smile. "You should be."

The silence stretched between them, thick with tension. Ally could feel her heart racing, but it wasn't just fear that made her pulse quicken. There was something else, something deeper, a pull she couldn't explain. She could sense the danger surrounding Valen, the weight of whatever quest he was on. But there was also a part of her that felt drawn to it, to him. He was unlike any man she had ever met—distant, cold, but with a quiet intensity that intrigued her.

"I may be a noblewoman," Ally said softly, "but that doesn't mean I don't understand the risks. I want to help."

Valen's eyes narrowed. "Help?" He sounded skeptical, as though the very idea were absurd.

"Yes," Ally insisted, taking another step closer. "I've spent my whole life watching from the sidelines. I'm tired of it. I want to be part of something real."

Valen's gaze lingered on her for a long moment, as though he were searching for something in her eyes. Finally, he shook his head, his expression hardening. "This is not a game, Lady Kinsley. The path I walk is dangerous, and those who follow me often don't live to see the end of it."

"I don't care," she said, her voice firm. "I'm not asking for your permission, Sir Valen. I'm telling you that I'm coming with you."

The knight stared at her, and for the first time, Ally thought she saw a flicker of emotion in his eyes—something like surprise, or perhaps even respect. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the cold mask he wore so well.

"You're making a mistake," he said quietly.

"Maybe," Ally replied. "But it's my mistake to make."

Valen said nothing, only turned his gaze back toward the darkening sky. For a long moment, they stood in silence, the tension between them thick and unspoken. Ally could feel the pull between them, the strange, undeniable attraction she had sensed from the moment she first laid eyes on him. But she could also sense his reluctance, his unwillingness to let anyone—especially her—get too close.

Finally, Valen let out a soft sigh, barely audible. "If you wish to follow me, Lady Kinsley, I won't stop you. But don't expect me to protect you."

"I don't need your protection," Ally said, her voice steady.

Valen glanced at her once more, his expression unreadable. "We'll see about that."

With that, he turned and walked away, his crimson cape fluttering behind him like a shadow. Ally watched him go, her heart pounding in her chest. She knew this was only the beginning—a dangerous, uncertain path lay ahead. But for the first time in her life, she felt alive.

She would follow Valen, no matter where his quest took them.

4o