"What's good to eat here?" Aurelia Delensar's stomach growled audibly. She hadn't eaten a single crumb since her daring escape from the palace that afternoon. Now, she felt like she could devour an entire roasted leg of lamb.
The inn's front desk was absurdly high, forcing Aurelia to tiptoe just to catch a glimpse of the counter. Without a care for decorum, she hopped up, reaching for the menu tucked in the corner.
"Ah—" The innkeeper started to stop her but hesitated, his eyes flicking toward the towering knight standing behind the golden-haired girl. The knight gave no signal, so the innkeeper silently withdrew his hand.
The inn was a secret gathering spot for the Lycan community in the Kingdom of Delensar, and everything—from the architecture to the menu—was tailored for their kind. The menu, etched in rough Lycan script on a piece of tanned hide, was indecipherable to humans.
Aurelia flipped through it, pretending she could read it, then tossed it to Caelum Valtaris with a haughty air. "Caelum, see if they have roasted lamb. I must have it tonight!"
The innkeeper was stunned. This petite human girl was speaking to the knight with such arrogance, as if she were a noble ordering a servant. To his surprise, the knight took the menu, flipped through it with feigned interest, and then closed it.
"The food here isn't good," Caelum said slowly, his voice steady. He didn't want Aurelia eating game hunted by other Lycans. The thought of her praising another's catch made his possessive instincts flare.
"There's a night market nearby. They serve excellent roasted lamb," he added, subtly changing how he addressed her. He didn't want her to be everyone's princess. He wanted to keep her for himself.
"A night market? That sounds exciting!" Aurelia's eyes lit up, but her enthusiasm quickly waned. She bit her lip, her voice tinged with worry. "But what if we're… recognized?"
"I'm here," Caelum reassured her, his tone calm and unwavering.
Aurelia's worries melted away. "Caelum, you're the best!" she chirped, her voice sweet and full of praise.
The innkeeper, a Lycan himself, watched in silent disbelief. Caelum, usually so composed, looked like he was on the verge of wagging his tail. It was an insult to the Lycan's culinary pride!
Aurelia was easily pleased. A little attention and companionship were enough to win her over. As Caelum checked them in, she chattered like a sparrow. "I need a new dress and a pretty hat! I don't want the sun to ruin my skin tomorrow. And cake! I missed afternoon tea today. It's all that old, cranky recluse's fault! Caelum, don't you think he deserves to die?"
Caelum, unaware that the "cranky recluse" was himself, nodded solemnly. "He does."
"Then kill him—no, wait, just beat him up, okay?"
"Okay."
Aurelia was satisfied, imagining Caelum pummeling the Lycan leader. But her laughter soon faded. Her anger was misplaced. It was Queen Isolde who had driven her to this. Stepmothers and stepchildren were natural enemies, and Aurelia loathed the queen. Yet, she couldn't deny that the queen truly loved her father. To avoid causing him pain, Aurelia had decided to stay away until her father and brother returned.
But plans rarely survive contact with reality.
As they reached the door, Caelum's sharp ears caught the sound of armor and swords clinking, footsteps too disciplined to be ordinary. He flattened his ears, listening intently. It was the Silver Knights of the palace—and more than one.
He raised a hand to stop Aurelia from opening the door, but she had already triggered the enchantment. A thick mist rose, and the silver door reverted to wood. Caelum stepped in front of her, his broad frame shielding her completely.
The knights passed by three times, each time sending Aurelia's heart racing. She clutched Caelum's cloak, crumpling it in her hands. Finally, the knights gave up and left.
"Something's wrong," they said in unison.
Aurelia pushed the door open a crack. The alley outside was dark and unremarkable. "Why would the queen send her knights here unless she knew I was here? But how?"
Caelum's experience gave him an idea. "Did you bring anything unusual from the palace?"
"Just this dress," Aurelia said, looking down at the crimson gown. "The queen gave it to me tonight. Could it be…?"
"The dress is fine," Caelum interrupted, his tone firm. He quickly softened his voice. "If there were any magic, I would sense it."
Aurelia nodded, though she wasn't entirely convinced. Caelum breathed a silent sigh of relief. He had designed the dress himself, commissioning the finest weaver in Vesperia Wastes to craft it. Seeing Aurelia in it, like a blooming rose, was worth every effort.
"Forget it," Aurelia said, pouting. She kicked the floor, her appetite gone. "I'm going to bed."
Caelum followed her silently. At her door, he spoke before she could. "I'll guard your door tonight."
Aurelia shook her head. "The inn seems safe. You need rest for tomorrow."
She smiled up at him, her ruby eyes sparkling, a few golden strands of hair framing her face like crescent moons. Caelum's heart ached. He wanted to reach out, to pull her into his arms, but he restrained himself.
"Princess," he began, his voice low and measured, "I only have enough money for one room."
"What?" Aurelia's eyes widened. She gestured wildly. "I gave you a whole pile of jewels!"
"They bear the royal crest. Most merchants won't take them."
Aurelia sighed, her frustration evident. "I believe you. You wouldn't lie to me."
Caelum's golden eyes softened behind his mask. He hadn't lied—he simply omitted a few details. The jewels could have been dismantled, and greed often overrode caution. But Aurelia, sheltered and naive, didn't know that.
"Princess," he said, his voice tinged with vulnerability, "I have no room."
He waited, hoping she would offer him a place by her side. The moonlight cast a gentle glow, masking the predator within. To Aurelia, he looked like a loyal, lonely hound, waiting for her kindness.