chapter 20
The Princess's breath caught.
Princess (startled, but composed):
"Who…?"
The masked man hanging from the rope tilted his head slightly. His voice came quietly. Low. Almost cautious.
John: "…It's me."
A pause.
John: "John."
Her fingers tightened around the marble railing. For a moment, she simply stared at him, as if making sure she had heard correctly.
Princess: "John…?"
Her voice was quieter now. Not frightened, but surprised in a way she couldn't quite hide.
John? Why is he here? How did he even reach this balcony…? And why now?
She straightened slightly, trying to recover the calm authority expected of her.
Princess: "What are you doing here?"
John didn't answer immediately. He pulled the mask down slowly, revealing his face under the silver moonlight. For the first time since arriving, he looked slightly uncertain. His hand tightened on the rope.
John (softly): "I know this probably isn't the best moment."
A faint, nervous breath escaped him.
John: "But… tomorrow is your wedding."
The words lingered in the air between them. The Princess looked shocked, her expression unchanged—but her silence said enough. John noticed, and suddenly he felt far less confident than when he had climbed the palace wall.
Why is this so difficult to say? he thought. He had imagined this moment many times. None of those versions had included how fast his heart would beat.
John: "I wasn't planning to come."
He laughed softly at himself.
Princess (confused): "What?"
John: "Actually… I told myself I shouldn't."
The Princess glanced back at him. Her gaze steady, waiting. John looked at her, searching for the right words.
John: "But every time I tried to ignore it…"
He paused. His voice lowered slightly.
John: "…I kept thinking about you."
The Princess felt her chest tighten slightly. She didn't show it. Instead, she folded her arms gently—a small defensive gesture.
Princess: "You climbed the royal palace… just to say that?"
John: "When you say it like that, it sounds even more reckless."
The wind moved softly through the balcony curtains. For a few seconds, neither of them spoke. Then John looked at her again, more seriously this time.
John: "Do you remember the first time we met?"
She blinked slightly. She nodded slowly.
Princess: "I remember."
Their eyes met again. For a moment, the distance between them felt strangely small. John looked away briefly, almost shy.
John: "That night… I thought you were the most beautiful yet the most interesting person I had ever met."
The Princess raised an eyebrow slightly.
Princess (ears turning red): "Thought what?"
John (smiling): "I still do."
The Moment Changes
John suddenly moved closer. Not abruptly. Just enough that she could see the hesitation in his expression. His hand slowly reached for hers—then stopped halfway, as if he wasn't sure he should.
The Princess's cheeks flushed, and she noticed the hesitation. For a brief moment, she wondered—what is happening?
John finally spoke again, more quietly.
John: "I don't understand what this feeling is… but every time I see you…"
He looked directly into her eyes.
John: "…something feels different."
The Princess felt her heartbeat quicken, her cheeks even redder now.
Princess (shocked yet calmly): "John… what… what are you saying exactly?"
The engagement ceremony had begun already. John nodded slowly.
John: "You're right. That's exactly why I had to say it tonight."
Her fingers tightened slightly against the railing again. She didn't answer. The silence stretched between them. Then suddenly—
John stepped onto the balcony railing.
Princess (eyes widening): "John—what are you—"
Before she could finish, he reached for her waist and pulled her gently toward him. Her hands grabbed his coat instinctively.
Princess: "Wait!"
The night wind rushed around them. The palace lights glowed behind them like distant stars. John looked at her, a little nervous but determined.
John (quietly): "Trust me."
For a brief moment, she stared at him—his arms around her, the endless drop behind him. And strangely, she didn't feel afraid. Then he stepped backward. The world disappeared beneath them.
The air rushed past them like a wild whisper. Her breath caught as the palace walls swept upward around them. Instinctively, she buried her face against his shoulder. His arms tightened around her, holding her securely as they fell.
The rope caught suddenly above them. Their descent slowed, turning the fall into a gentle swing through the moonlit air. For a moment, it felt less like falling—and more like flying. The palace balcony passed above them. The garden below shimmered in silver moonlight.
When their feet finally touched the soft grass, the world felt strangely quiet. John slowly released her—but not completely, as if unsure whether he should step away.
The Princess looked at him. Her breathing still uneven, her expression serious. Yet there was something new in her eyes—something softer.
Princess: "You are… completely unreasonable."
John laughed quietly, relieved.
John: "Probably."
Then he looked at her carefully, almost cautiously.
John: "But you came with me."
The Princess didn't answer. She turned toward the moonlit garden instead. But after a few steps—she stopped. And waited. John blinked slightly, then followed.
next..The Ritual
The cavern flickered with firelight. Dozens of children were forced into a circle carved into the stone floor. Strange symbols glowed faintly beneath their feet.
Some of the children cried; others trembled silently.
Child: "Please… let us go!"
The masked figures surrounding them showed no mercy. At the center stood a tall figure in black robes—Lord Kayem. His masked gaze swept across the terrified children.
Lord Kayem: "The ritual is ready. The sacrifices must be made."
From the back, one masked man suddenly spoke.
Masked Man: "My lord… why is this so important?"
A nearby follower laughed.
Follower: "You're joking, right?"
masked man:im sorry im new here.
follower :new?
Another answered coldly.
Follower: "Our leaders must rule longer."
A third voice added:
Follower: "Longevity. It's the king's order."
The questioning man stiffened.
Masked Man: "You mean… the king?"
Lord Kayem's voice cut through the cavern.
Lord Kayem: "The king must endure. Now shut up."
Silence followed. Then the man stepped forward. He moved behind a kneeling child and raised his sword. The child squeezed their eyes shut.
Lord Kayem lifted his hand.
Lord Kayem: "Now."
The blade hovered in the air. Then slowly—
The man lowered it.
Masked Man: "No."
Every masked figure turned toward him. Lord Kayem's voice hardened.
Lord Kayem: "What did you say?"
The man pulled back his hood. It was Marco! He drew a hidden sword from behind his back, a wild grin spreading across his lips.
Marco: "It's time for your end."
Suddenly—heavy footsteps thundered through the cave. Soldiers stormed in from the tunnel entrance, swords drawn.
Marco: "Your ritual ends tonight."
The cavern erupted into noise as the soldiers rushed in. Steel clashed. Shouts echoed against the stone walls.
Lord Kayem stepped forward, his voice sharp with anger.
Lord Kayem: "You dare interrupt this ritual? You've walked straight into your own death."
The scarred man—Marco—smirked, gripping his sword.
Marco: "Oh really? Let's see about that."
Kayem's head tilted slightly. Then he raised his hand. A deep rumbling filled the cavern. The ground trembled. Stone cracked along the walls as something enormous began to move.
From the darkness, a massive figure stepped forward—a monster, its body formed entirely of jagged rock, towering nearly three times the size of a man. Every step shook the ground beneath it.
Marco's eyes widened.
Marco(shocked and confused) : "A monster… taking orders from a human…?"
Before he could react further—
Lord Kayem: "Kill him!"
The rock giant roared and lunged forward, its massive stone arm crashing down toward Marco.
Garden – After the Balcony
Moonlight bathed the garden in silver. The palace's music was faint behind them. The Princess stood with her arms crossed, trying to stay composed. Her eyes were sharp, but her cheeks betrayed her embarrassment.
Princess: "Explain. Now. Why did you—bring me out here like this?"
John shifted, rubbing the back of his neck.
John: "I… I had to. I couldn't wait until tomorrow."
Princess (narrowing her eyes): "Climbing walls, sneaking into my ball, and—jumping off balconies—is your way of explaining things?"
John's mouth opened, then closed. He swallowed hard.
John (hesitant): "I… it's the only way I could think of to say it properly. Before it's too late."
Princess: "Say what?"
He stepped closer, voice low, careful.
John: "That… being near you… matters. More than I ever expected."
The Princess stiffened. She looked away, fighting a blush. Her pulse quickened in a way she wasn't ready to admit.
Princess: "You're… reckless."
A pause. The wind shifted through the trees. Their breaths seemed loud.
John: "I thought I could ignore it… but I can't. I don't want to. Not anymore."
Her eyes flicked to him again. Serious, guarded, but something softened in her gaze.
Princess: "You're making things complicated."
John: "Life's already complicated, isn't it?"
She let out a sharp, quiet laugh—half disbelief, half exasperation.
Princess: "You're impossible."
John: "Maybe. But I'm honest."
She looked away, cheeks warming again.
John: "I'm not asking for anything. I just… needed you to know."
The words hung between them. The tension, nervousness, and quiet ache—they were all real.
Marco vs. the Giant
Marco's chest heaved. Blood streaked across his armor, but he didn't stop. The rock giant loomed above him, each step shaking the cavern floor.
With a roar, the monster swung its massive stone arm. Marco rolled to the side, barely avoiding the strike. Sparks flew where stone scraped against steel.
Marco (gritting teeth): "Is that all you've got?"
He darted forward, slicing with precision, exploiting a seam in the giant's rocky armor. The monster staggered but recovered quickly, swinging again. Marco's movements were fluid, almost like dancing with death. Each strike measured, each step calculated.
Despite the pain, his eyes burned with determination. He was pushed to the edge, but refused to yield. Every blow, every dodge, every risky maneuver screamed of his skill, courage, and sheer will.
Marco (thinking): You monster… I won't give up. Not now. Not here.
The giant roared. Its stone fists slammed down. Marco ducked under, barely escaping. The cavern shook with each movement. Sweat, blood, and the scent of stone filled the air.
He lunged again, using the momentum to strike precisely at the monster's knee. The rock cracked slightly, but the creature was relentless. Marco stumbled, his body screaming, yet he gritted his teeth.
Garden – Guinevere Appears
The clash of the cavern faded behind the palace walls. In the quiet garden, the Princess caught her breath, still processing the whirlwind with John.
Guinevere (calling, concerned): "Princess! Princess, where are you?"
The Princess turned. Guinevere stepped forward, expression sharp but curious.
Guinevere: "What's happening here? John…?"
The Princess glanced at John, who stood silently, hesitant.
Princess (calm, slightly firm): "We'll talk later."
Guinevere's eyes flicked to John, still standing awkwardly, and raised a brow.
Guinevere: "whats happening ? Why is he here?"
The Princess's gaze softened, a hint of protectiveness flashing in her eyes.
Princess: "Let's go."
Guinevere: "What? Why?"
Princess: "I said, let's go."
She turned and walked beside Guinevere, leaving John standing tense and unsure, the air thick with unspoken feelings.
John (frustrated, thinking): Did I just make things worse…?
The Princess walked beside Guinevere, moonlight tracing the pale curve of her face. Her steps were measured, controlled, but her chest felt heavy.
Princess: "Guinevere… where is Marco?"
Guinevere's gaze fell, worry flickering in her eyes.
Guinevere: "I thought he would come… but there's no sign of him. Nothing. If he doesn't arrive soon… the engagement can't be delayed."
The words hit like a cold wind. The Princess clenched her fists, jaw tight, eyes narrowing.
Guinevere: "You may have no choice. The ceremony… it could start tonight."
A shiver ran through the Princess—not from fear, but frustration and the ache she tried to hide.
Behind her, John lingered in the shadows, unseen, chest tight with a quiet ache, heart full of unspoken words. In that moment, the weight of misunderstanding, timing, and unspoken love settled over them all—a precipice on the edge of hope and despair.
As they stepped back toward the palace, the night seemed heavier, the tension between duty and desire coiling tighter around the Princess's heart.
...CHAPTER 20ENDS...