Elara folded her arms. "fragile? You call me fragile, standing in my path almost making me trip?"
He chuckled, amusement in his stormy gaze. "I might. But you seem a little… bossy for someone wandering alone in the forest."
"Bossy?" she snapped. "I'm cautious! Unlike some people who wander like puddle-brained idiots!"
"Oh, now it's my fault?" His smirk widened.
"You're the one glaring like a stormcloud at anyone who dares to cross your path."
Elara rolled her eyes. "Better a stormcloud than someone so full of himself he thinks the forest revolves around him!"
He laughed, shaking his head. "Touché. Though I'll admit, your stormcloud glare… is impressive. Almost majestic, really."
Her cheeks burned. "Majestic? That's what you call me? For someone who is mud-stained, flustered, and gathering weeds?"
He shrugged casually. "Hey, someone has to make the forest interesting. Otherwise, what's the point of walking around pretending to be mysterious?"
"Mysterious, huh?" she shot back. "You must be an expert, standing here in the middle of the forest, making snide remarks."
"I call it observational commentary," he said with a grin. "And you just became my favorite subject."
Elara grabbed a handful of herbs, trying to focus. "Great. My favorite subject. That's… terrifying."
"Terrifying? Or flattering?" His grin widened.
"I'm not in the mood for riddles," she muttered. "I have work to do — unlike some people pretending to be mysterious."
"Oh, I am important," he said seriously. "Just… you don't know it yet."
She paused, frowning. "Important, huh? Well, Mr. Important, I suggest you move. The herbs won't pick themselves, and someone has to get back safely."
He bowed dramatically. "As you wish, oh mighty stormcloud.
Elara moved through the forest, collecting herbs in a tense dance of sarcasm, kealen pretends to ignore her.
Then the sound of hurried footsteps interrupted them. A guard appeared, armor dripping with rain.
"Your Majesty! We need you at the palace immediately!" the guard called.
Elara froze, staring at the boy in disbelief. "Wait… who—?"
Before she could finish, he leaned closer, voice low and commanding, carrying a weight that made her heart skip a beat.
"Go," Prince Kaelen said firmly, locking eyes with hers. "Now."
Elara blinked, flustered. "Go… where?"
"Go home and Stay safe," he replied, the usual teasing gone, replaced by authority and concern.
She didn't argue. Watching him follow the guard into the mist, she felt flustered, confused, and secretly captivated by the strange mixture of sarcasm and seriousness he carried.
Returning to the Thorne cottage, Elara clutched her satchel of herbs, heart still racing.
Darin noticed her distraction. "Everything alright?"
She shook her head, cheeks burning. "I… got the herbs. That's all that matters."
"And don't you have soldiers activities to do? Or you are neglecting your responsibilities to eat mum's food."She said to darin playfully.
"A soldier has to eat to protect the city." darin said. messing with her long dark hair.
And somewhere in the palace, Prince Kaelen walking to the throne room, a small smile tugging at his lips. Something about her, her fire, her independence, her sarcasm made him want to see her again.
The palace gates loomed over them, slick with rain, reflecting the glow of torchlight in the puddles of the courtyard. Alaric led Elara through the massive doors, the scent of incense and polished wood replacing the damp forest smell. His satchel of herbs felt heavier than usual, but he held it like armor, eyes scanning the corridors for any sign of chaos.
"Stay close," he murmured. "This place… it's easier to get lost than you think."
Elara followed, boots clicking against marble floors. Her thoughts kept drifting back to the forest stranger. The teasing smirk, the sharp tongue, the command. She couldn't decide whether she wanted to punch him or apologize for bumping into him.
Inside the castle infirmary, wounded soldiers and palace staff crowded the hall. Advisors whispered nervously, glancing at tables lined with bandages and herbs.
"Alaric," the king said, voice calm but commanding, "thank you for coming. Your skill is needed here. Some of our people require immediate care."
Alaric bowed. "Your Majesty. I will do everything I can."
"Bring your daughter," King Aldric added, eyes flicking to Elara. "I hear she is skilled with healing as well."
Elara's cheeks warmed. "I… I'll help, Your Majesty," she stammered.
Among the crowd, Lyra, General Lysender's daughter, leaned against a pillar, arms crossed. Her eyes sparkled with curiosity and a hint of annoyance.
"So this is the famed healer's daughter," she said lightly, voice carrying across the hall. "I've heard of you. Can you even manage to keep up with palace standards?"
Elara met her gaze evenly. "I'm here to help, not compete," she replied, steady despite her racing heart.
Lyra's smirk deepened. "Helping is one thing. Surviving palace politics is another. Don't expect anyone to make it easy."
As they set to work, the infirmary buzzed with tension. Soldiers groaned as Alaric bandaged wounds; Elara carefully applied herbs to burns and cuts. Every so often, her mind drifted back to the forest stranger, the one with the teasing smile and sharp tongue.
And then she saw him Kaelen, standing near the throne, cloak still dripping, observing silently.
Her breath caught. He… was the prince.
The realization hit her all at once. The teasing, the command in the forest, the smirk, everything clicked. Her mind raced, and her cheeks flamed
Lyra's sharp eyes followed the exchange, noticing the subtle tension. Jealousy flickered in her gaze. "Interesting," she whispered to the attendant beside her. "The healer's daughter has fire… and apparently, the prince notices it. I'll be watching her closely."
Elara, unaware of Lyra's thoughts, continued her work, tension coiling in her chest. She hated how Kaelen's presence made her heartbeat uneven, how his sarcasm and royal authority made her want to argue and blush all at the same time.
Hours passed. Alaric and Elara worked tirelessly while King Aldric, soldiers, and advisors watched silently, impressed. Finally, Kaelen stepped forward, walking with a silent grace that made the room still for a moment.
"You handle the injured well," he said, voice low, sarcasm still dancing beneath authority. "Better than some professionals I've seen."