Protecting The Princess

Chapter 3

The days began to settle into a routine, though "routine" in a palace felt nothing like the predictability of Storme's past assignments. As a bodyguard, she was constantly on alert, attuned to every small movement, every stranger in the palace. But lately, there was another dynamic at play, one she hadn't anticipated: the attentiveness of the palace staff.

At first, Storme had brushed it off as typical politeness, the kind she was used to ignoring. But Spencer's easy, familiar manner around her felt slightly out of place. It was during breakfast one morning that Leonor began to notice it too.

In the spacious dining hall, Leonor quietly ate while Storme observed from her usual spot near the door, positioned with a perfect view of anyone approaching. Spencer entered with a wide smile, carrying a fresh cup of coffee for Storme, and gave a small, playful wink as she set it down beside her.

"Good morning, Storme," she greeted cheerily, lingering slightly. "I made sure it was brewed just the way you like."

"Thank you," Storme replied, not picking up on the subtext, her gaze flitting back to the door.

Spencer smiled and tilted her head, as if trying to draw her attention. Leonor's hand stilled on her fork. It was a minor gesture, really, but the thought of Spencer sharing these small intimacies—like remembering how Storme took her coffee—unsettled her. Leonor knew herself to be calm and fair, rarely prone to envy. Yet watching Spencer's smile linger as Storme gave a polite nod stirred an unexpected prickle of irritation.

As breakfast wrapped up, Leonor found herself walking slowly over to Storme, catching her off-guard. "That coffee looked delicious, Storme," she said, glancing after Spencer.

Storme blinked, taking a moment to register the sudden attention. "Yes, it was... nice of her," she replied.

"Yes, very considerate," Leonor replied, unable to keep a note of coolness from her voice. But she quickly softened, realizing Storme might notice. "I only meant it's nice to have someone looking after you as well."

Storme studied her with that familiar, unwavering focus, but Leonor's expression was an elegant mask of neutrality.

That evening, Leonor found herself heading to the library, determined to brush off her earlier feelings. The library was one of her favorite places in the palace—an oasis of quiet where she could easily get lost among the shelves. To her surprise, when she arrived, she noticed Storme was already there.

Storme was leaning against a bookshelf, speaking with one of the maids—a younger girl named Sofia, who seemed particularly taken with Storme. Sofia's cheeks were flushed as she laughed softly at something Storme said, her eyes shining with interest. Leonor found her chest tightening at the sight.

Unwilling to stand idly, Leonor stepped forward. "Storme," she said, her voice carrying softly across the room.

Both Storme and Sofia turned, and Leonor watched a subtle change come over Storme's face—an expression of attentiveness that she seemed to reserve only for her.

"Princess," Storme greeted, her voice low but respectful.

Leonor nodded to Sofia with a gentle smile before turning to Storme. "I came to find a few books, but I could use your help with the higher shelves."

She could have easily called on Sofia or one of the other staff members for help, yet she wanted Storme's attention.

Storme nodded, following her to a corner where the shelves stretched toward the ceiling. As they worked together, Leonor allowed herself to indulge in the subtle closeness of the moment, grateful for Storme's steady presence. But the image of Storme laughing easily with the maid lingered, a small, unacknowledged ache.