The Hunted Princess

Solace

The cabin is silent except for the crackle of the fire. Seraphina sits by the hearth, her red hair illuminated by the flickering flames. Eion stands nearby, his imposing figure casting a long shadow, his yellow eyes watchful.

"Yellow, red, and black," I murmur, trying to push through the fog clouding my mind. "Those colors mean something, I'm sure... but what?" I look at Eion, my gaze searching for answers I know he doesn't have.

Eion crosses his arms before shrugging. "I can offer you no more answers than those I've already given. But I can promise you we will piece it together in time... for now, your safety comes first."

I nod, frustration mingling with determination. The past couple of days have gone by in a blur as my body slowly recovers from the ordeal that, according to Eion, nearly cost me my life. "I just... I wish I could remember. Have you ever had that feeling? Knowing that there's something important just out of reach?"

My companion nods in understanding. Despite his looks and how standoffish he seems, Eion has proven to be a capable and caring companion, not averse to tears, nor blood, or feelings. Something curiously refreshing, and completely unexpected from a man.

Also, during the time we spent here, I could glimpse what I believe to be a fraction of why my father went after him to hire him as my protector. His ability with a sword is impressive. At my insistence —wanting him to get away from me, while I tried to compose myself to the point that no tears escaped my control again— he grabbed my sword and began practicing. Even if he was merely shadow-fighting, there was beauty to it. Every movement was precise, not exaggerated like many nobles are prone to do, nor flashy. His style lacks the polish of my previous teachers, but there is also beauty in simplicity, especially when one's own life is on the line.

The thing that stood out the most, however, was that he didn't seem to feel at ease with a sword in hand, which makes no sense to me, given the experience he showed.

I'm itching to train with him. I'm itching to train with him, but we only have one sword and my body hasn't fully healed yet.

Then there are his eyes, strange as they might seem at first glance. His yellow eyes rarely miss a detail. Whether it is a shadow under the canopy or a flick of one of my fingers, he always seems super aware of everything.

But the detail that I've most come to appreciate is how easy it is to talk to him.

In the past, many men (and women) have been standoffish with me, especially those who could not see past the fact that I am a woman. Whether in breaches or skirts, can I not be the same person? Eion cares so very little about that, that it is quite refreshing. He's not helpful because I'm a woman, but because I am me. He doesn't pamper me or try to comply with my very wishes. Instead, he has been keeping me on my toes, challenging me to walk around and help him do various things in this space we're sharing.

Yes, he is very careful not to make me do anything that would harm me or reopen my wounds —and has stopped me from doing so on my own on various occasions— but otherwise; he expects me to be wise with my strength.

I am still unsure if I should feel relieved or offended.

I also know that I really should have learned healing magics, instead of only focusing on dealing damage.

"Memories will come when they're ready. Until then, we stay sharp and stay hidden." He steps closer, his voice low but held by an unbreakable will. "I won't let anything happen to you, Seraphina. Your father entrusted me with your protection for a reason, and I never break a promise."

The fire crackles louder on the hearth, and I take a deep breath, resolving to face whatever the present and future holds in store for me head-on.

"I want to go back home," I state, looking him in the eye. "I want to see everything for myself." Witnessing his frown, I understand his internal struggle between pleasing me and safeguarding me.