Warrior Love

Chapter 9

The morning sun streamed through the arched windows of the throne room as Zara sat stiffly in her chair, listening to her parents discuss plans she wanted no part in.

“A ball is the perfect opportunity,” her mother, Queen Lyanna, said, her tone as smooth as silk. “It will bring noble families together, strengthen alliances, and most importantly, help you find someone suitable.”

Zara frowned, her fingers gripping the armrests of her chair. “I don’t need a ball, and I certainly don’t need a suitor,” she said firmly. “I can rule Vallis on my own.”

King Alaric leaned forward, his expression a mix of patience and resolve. “Zara, you are strong, but every ruler benefits from partnership. This isn’t just about you. It’s about the kingdom.”

“The kingdom doesn’t need a prince,” she shot back, standing abruptly. “And neither do I.”

Lyanna placed a calming hand on her husband’s arm, her voice gentle but insistent. “Zara, this isn’t only about finding a suitor. It’s also a way to show strength and stability after... everything that has happened.”

Zara stiffened. She knew her mother was referring to the betrayal, the scandal that had shaken their kingdom’s reputation. The broken engagement had left a stain on Vallis that couldn’t be erased easily, and her parents were desperate to restore their standing in the eyes of their allies.

She took a deep breath, trying to keep her voice steady. “If this is about reputation, I’ll do what’s necessary. But don’t expect me to parade around like some—”

“Enough,” Alaric interrupted, his tone firm. “The decision has been made. The ball will take place in three days. You are a queen now, Zara, and sometimes that means making sacrifices for the greater good.”

Zara’s jaw clenched, but she didn’t argue further. Instead, she turned and walked out of the throne room, her footsteps echoing behind her.

...

Meanwhile, word of the ball spread like wildfire through the kingdom. From bustling markets to quiet taverns, whispers of the event filled the air. The news even reached the ears of those who walked unnoticed among mortals.

In a small village near Vallis, three tall, striking men strode through the cobblestone streets, their presence commanding attention. Dylan’s violet and purple hair gleamed under the sun, contrasting sharply with his confident smirk. Zephyr’s golden hair caught the light like spun silk, his piercing blue eyes scanning their surroundings with a calm, detached air. Aether, with his dark hair and equally sharp blue eyes, looked amused as women and men alike turned to stare, whispering among themselves.

“They’re practically falling over themselves,” Dylan chuckled, nodding toward a group of women who giggled as they passed.

“Focus, Dylan,” Zephyr said evenly, though his lips twitched in mild amusement. “We’re here to gather information, not cause a scene.”

Aether rolled his eyes, a smirk playing on his lips. “You say that, but you’re just as much of a spectacle as Dylan, brother. Blonde hair and blue eyes like yours are rare here. No wonder everyone’s staring.”

Zephyr ignored the comment, his mind elsewhere. The ball had piqued his interest for reasons he couldn’t quite explain. The idea of Zara, surrounded by suitors vying for her attention, unsettled him more than it should. He had no claim to her, no reason to feel protective, and yet the thought of her being forced into the company of mortal princes stirred something in him.

“I wonder how she’s taking it,” Aether mused aloud, breaking the silence.

“Probably not well,” Dylan said with a grin. “She doesn’t strike me as the ‘damsel in distress’ type. She’s likely fuming at the thought of dancing with a room full of strangers.”

Zephyr’s gaze shifted toward the castle in the distance, its towers piercing the sky. “She’s strong,” he murmured. “Stronger than they give her credit for.”

Aether raised an eyebrow at him, a teasing glint in his eyes. “You seem to think very highly of this girl, brother. Are you sure you’re not—”

“Enough,” Zephyr cut him off, his tone cool but firm. “We’re not here to meddle. We’re here to observe.”

But as they continued through the village, blending in with the crowd, Zephyr couldn’t shake the nagging feeling that he was being drawn to something — or someone — far beyond his control.

...

Back at the castle, Zara retreated to the quiet sanctuary of her chambers, trying to block out the chaos unfolding downstairs. The thought of being paraded in front of noblemen like a prize to be won made her stomach churn.

She moved to the window, gazing out at the moonlit sky. “What would you do, mysterious god of my dreams?” she whispered, a faint smile playing on her lips despite herself. “Would you laugh at my predicament or whisk me away from all this?”

Little did she know, a pair of sky-blue eyes had been watching her from afar, the connection between them growing stronger with each passing day.

...

“When are we even going to see her?” Aether asked impatiently, pacing back and forth as his brothers watched him with varying degrees of amusement. His sharp blue eyes flicked to Zephyr, who stood with his arms crossed, ever calm and unbothered.

“At the ball,” Zephyr replied, his tone as measured as ever.

“The ball?” Aether stopped in his tracks, tilting his head in disbelief. “You mean the one her parents are throwing to marry her off to some mortal prince?”

“Yes, that one,” Zephyr said, his voice clipped.

“And how, exactly, are we supposed to attend?” Dylan chimed in, leaning lazily against a tree. His violet and purple hair caught the afternoon light, making him stand out even in their secluded spot. “We don’t even have a kingdom here. How are we going to disguise ourselves as princes when we don’t have castles or titles?”

Zephyr’s lips twitched, but before he could respond, Aether smirked and stepped forward. “We’re gods, Dylan. Trust me on this,” he said with a mischievous glint in his eyes.

Dylan raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. “Trust you? That’s a gamble I’m not sure I want to take.”

“It’s not a gamble,” Aether shot back confidently. “It’s strategy. We take human form, dress the part, and show up as royalty. No one will question it. Mortals believe what they see.”

Zephyr frowned, his calm exterior cracking slightly. “This isn’t a game, Aether. We’re there to observe, not to cause a scene.”

“Who said anything about causing a scene?” Aether asked innocently, though the playful gleam in his eyes suggested otherwise. “We blend in, we act like mortals, and we leave before anyone gets suspicious.”

Dylan chuckled, shaking his head. “Blend in? With your attitude, Aether? Good luck with that.”

“And you’re one to talk, Dylan,” Zephyr said dryly, his piercing gaze shifting to his younger brother. “You’re hardly inconspicuous yourself.”

“Exactly!” Dylan said with a grin. “At least I know it.”

Aether clapped a hand on Zephyr’s shoulder, his expression turning serious for a moment. “Relax, brother. This is your chance to see her without the burden of who you are. No thrones, no titles — just her and you. You might learn something.”

Zephyr stared at him, his jaw tightening. Finally, he sighed and looked away. “This is reckless,” he muttered.

Aether’s grin returned in full force. “But it’s brilliant. Trust me, Zephyros — it’ll work.”