They had reached the heart of the military compound. Soldiers, some in armor and others bearing scrolls or swords, passed by in brisk motions. The walls stood high and harsh, lined with rusted flags fluttering under the grim sky. It was a place of discipline, built to beat the weakness out of men, not harbor delicate foreign princesses.
Lan stayed close to the man who had escorted her, Alaric's old friend. He offered her a small smile now and then, but as they walked deeper, a certain stiffness settled over the air.
At the far end of the training field, Lan spotted Alaric. He stood alone near a weapon rack, tunic sleeves rolled up to his elbows, emerald eyes blazing beneath his tousled blond hair. Dust clung to his boots. Sweat glistened at the hollow of his neck and brow.
For a brief second, he didn't see her. He was barking orders, sharp and clear, as a group of trainees attempted formations under his gaze. His authority was like a blade—sharp, commanding, impossible to ignore.
When he did finally turn and see her standing there, his gaze faltered—only slightly—but enough.
"What is she doing here?" he asked his friend, not even looking at Lan directly.
"She wanted to see where you work," the man replied casually. "Figured it wouldn't hurt."
Alaric's expression didn't soften. Instead, he walked toward her, slow and deliberate, until they were just a few paces apart.
"I don't recall inviting you here," he said coldly.
Lan's lips parted. "I didn't come to disturb you. I just—"
"Just what?" His voice was low, clipped. "Trying to win hearts again by appearing fragile? Curious little girl wandering into danger, hoping someone notices?"
Lan's eyes widened. His words, so sharp and sudden, cut deeper than she expected. Around them, a few soldiers paused their movements, some pretending not to listen, others clearly eavesdropping.
"You think I'm trying to gain sympathy?" she asked softly.
"I think you know how to use your presence," Alaric replied, stepping closer, lowering his voice just enough to be cruel. "A wet dress. Bare skin by the pool. Now walking into a battlefield zone as if it's a flower garden. Tell me, Princess Lan—what is it you're playing at?"
Lan's breath caught in her throat. A lump formed she didn't know how to swallow. She hadn't meant anything by coming. She just wanted to understand him. To be closer to the world she had unwillingly entered. She had never been trained to manipulate; she barely understood politics, much less the hearts of men.
"I didn't come here to—"
He raised a hand. Not violently, but in a gesture of finality. "Go back. This isn't your place."
It wasn't a shout. It wasn't even angry. But it felt like a door being slammed in her face.
Lan turned quietly and walked away, trying not to show how her hands trembled at her sides.