Mei-Ling drifted through dreams of home—running wild across daisy fields, laughter ringing as her brothers and sisters chased her. The sun warmed her skin, petals brushed her cheeks. She could almost taste it, the life she'd lost.
Then—slurp.
A wet, slimy tongue dragged across her cheek.
"Mmm... stop it... 'm dreaming..." she mumbled.
SLURP.
Mei-Ling's eyes shot open to find Bái Gui's massive face inches from hers, his tail wagging lazily. Next to him, Jingfei looked both relieved and deeply entertained.
"About time, Sleeping Beauty," Jingfei snorted. "Three days. You snored. You laughed. You... farted."
Mei-Ling blinked. "I what?"
"Yep." Jingfei grinned wide. "I thought you were dying. Then you ripped one so loud I swore the windows rattled. After that, I figured you'd live."
Mortified, Mei-Ling struggled upright—limbs like jelly. "Three days...?"
"You hibernated like a bear, Princess."
As Mei-Ling took in the room, her breath caught.
Sunlight streamed through gauzy curtains, dappling polished wooden walls carved from living trees. Vines, still blooming, crept along beams, twining with crystals and silver threads. An indoor garden glistened, watered by a trickling waterfall.
"Okay..." Mei-Ling whispered. "If this is prison, chain me to the bed."
Jingfei cackled. "Don't tempt me."
Mei-Ling's attempt to stand ended in a graceless sprawl. Jingfei rushed forward. "Steady now—you're walking like a newborn foal"
With a wink, Jingfei pulled out a small pouch and blew sparkling dust straight into Mei-Ling's face.
Mei-Ling sputtered. "WHAT the hell, Jingfei?!"
"Language spell," Jingfei shrugged. "Figured it was time you understand those pointy-eared bastards. You're welcome."
Mei-Ling coughed until her eyes watered. "Do I look like a chicken in need of seasoning?!"
"Well, you sure sounded like one."
Before Mei-Ling could retaliate, the door creaked open. A tall elf, raven-haired, violet eyes gleaming, stepped inside—holding a tray full of fruits, nuts, and bread.
"You're awake," he smiled, bowing gracefully. "Captain Lorianthel Velas'tari, at your service."
His gaze slid to Jingfei, offering her a wider grin. Jingfei, ever unimpressed, eyed the tray instead.
"Is that... grapes?" she gasped, snatching one.
Mei-Ling, groggy, blinked. "Why... why are they feeding us? Aren't we prisoners?"
Jingfei chewed happily. "About that... slight exaggeration on the 'prisoners' part. After they dragged us here, I—being the diplomatic genius that I am—explained we're harmless."
"Harmless? You tried to bite the one with the net!"
"Details," Jingfei waved it off. "Anyway, they're letting us stay. Sort of like... exotic strays."
Lorianthel smirked. "She was very convincing. Especially after promising to cook."
"Traitor," Mei-Ling hissed.
"Survivor," Jingfei corrected, mouth full.
Lorianthel chuckled. "If it helps, everyone's rather curious about you two. Especially... our General"
At the mention, Mei-Ling stiffened.
"You mean... the silver-haired one?"
Lorianthel's grin widened. "Ah, yes. General Aelric Aerandorson. Tall, devastatingly handsome, and emotionally constipated. What a dream."
Jingfei laughed until she choked. "Constipated? He's got that face."
Mei-Ling flushed. "Is he... going to kill us?"
Lorianthel shrugged. "No. He's more likely to brood nearby while glaring. It's his favorite hobby."
****
Aelric sat rigidly behind the grand wooden desk, his sharp eyes tracing the intricate lines of the map sprawled before him. The heavy scent of parchment and ink lingered in the air, a quiet testament to sleepless nights spent planning. The faint creak of leather boots against stone drew his attention, but he did not lift his head immediately.
Lorianthel strolled into the chamber, his steps unhurried, his lips curled into a knowing grin that spoke of mischief barely restrained. He observed Aelric with that same glint of perpetual amusement, waiting—always waiting—for the moment his presence could no longer be ignored.
Finally, Aelric's voice broke the silence, low and gravel-edged.
"Is she awake?"
Lorianthel's smirk widened as he lazily perched himself on the desk's edge, his fingers trailing absently over the map's brittle edges.
"She's awake," he confirmed, his tone flippant, as though the girl's consciousness was little more than a passing detail.
Aelric exhaled slowly, the furrow between his brows deepening. Lorianthel's eyes glittered with the thrill of the chase, and without waiting, he pressed the matter that had gnawed at him since dawn.
"So," he drawled, "what's the plan for them?" A deliberate pause followed before he added, "Her."
Aelric's jaw tensed. "They're free to go," he replied, voice clipped and measured.
"They pose no threat. We've greater matters that demand our attention." There was a flash of frustration in his eyes, fleeting but unmistakable.
Lorianthel chuckled darkly, leaning in until his breath ghosted over Aelric's ear.
"You don't believe that." His fingers danced along the edge of the map before plucking it up with a flourish. "You wouldn't be brooding over this damned map if you did."
Aelric's eyes snapped up, cold and warning. "I said they're free."
"And yet," Lorianthel mused, his voice silk over steel, "you wonder, don't you? Where she's really from... what she truly is. No one crosses our borders by accident."
The silence thickened, heavy enough to choke. Lorianthel's gaze locked onto Aelric's, savoring the storm brewing beneath his commander's composed facade.
With a sharp motion, Aelric snatched the map from Lorianthel's hands, the parchment crinkling under his grip.
"We've more pressing matters than entertaining fantasies about foreign witches," he growled, slamming the map down hard enough to make the inkwell shudder.
Unperturbed, Lorianthel's grin widened, his eyes gleaming with something far darker than mere amusement.
"Is that what we're calling her now? A foreign witch?" He laughed, the sound low and mocking.
"Seems you've thought more about her than you admit."
Before Aelric could retort, a thick tome sailed through the air—worn leather binding creaking mid-flight. Lorianthel ducked smoothly, the book thudding harmlessly against the wall behind him.
"Careful," he teased, "you'll run out of books before you run me off."
A sudden growl escaped Aelric, but Lorianthel was already pushing off the desk, stretching languidly as though the entire exchange had been mere sport.
"Ah... it must be lunchtime," Lorianthel sighed, his grin turning boyish as he sniffed the air. "Jingfei's cooking—I could smell it halfway down the hall.
He ambled towards the door, but not before throwing a glance over his shoulder.
"Shall I have a plate brought up for you, General?" His tone dripped with faux innocence.
Another book hurtled his way.
Laughing, Lorianthel twisted aside, the tome brushing past his shoulder.
"I'll take that as a no," he snickered.
"More for me, then."
His laughter echoed down the corridor as he vanished, leaving the chamber heavy with unspoken thoughts.
Aelric sat motionless, eyes locked on the map though his mind was far from it. Slowly, he exhaled—a long, weary sound that filled the empty room.
"Damned bastard..." he muttered, though no true malice touched the words. His gaze darkened, drawn inward as the girl's face flickered through his thoughts, unbidden and unwelcome.
Where did you come from... and why here, of all places?
The map before him blurred, forgotten, as the weight of decisions yet to be made settled heavy on his shoulders.
Later...
Jingfei stood over a giant bubbling cauldron, sleeves rolled up, shouting like a commander. "Come and get it, boys!"
The soldiers, hardened warriors, lined up like schoolboys, tripping over themselves to get a taste.
Mei-Ling, watching from the window, gaped as they fought over bowls.
Then... silence.
Lorianthel sauntered up, grinning wide. "Ah, Lady Jingfei, surely you've saved a special bowl for me?"
"Get bent," she snorted, with theatrical grace, Jingfei dumpedscalding soup into his bowl, barely missing his hand.
"Thank you, my lady," he bowed, unfazed, then strutted off.
Mei-Ling, watching from the window of the healer's quarters, snorted quietly, a ghost of a smile on her lips—until her eyes found him.
Aelric stood off to the side, arms crossed, expression unreadable. But his gaze... it was fixed right on her. Their eyes met. Mei-Ling's breath caught. His gaze pierced through her, unreadable and cold.
She flinched first—ducking fast behind the window ledge, cheeks burning.
Mei-Ling peeked again—Aelric was gone.
Her heart thudded painfully.
****
Mei-Ling was still pacing when a knock sounded—soft, almost hesitant.
Before she could answer, the door creaked open.
Aelric stood there, towering in the frame—ice blue eyes, jaw clenched, expression carved from stone.
"You're hiding," he stated flatly.
Mei-Ling swallowed. "I wasn't—"
Silence.
Aelric stepped inside—slow, measured. "Are you afraid of me, Princess?"
Mei-Ling drew herself tall. "I don't fear men who hide behind titles."
A flicker—the ghost of a smirk tugged at his lips. "Good. Because I'm not a man who hides."
"Then what are you?" she whispered.
"Complicated," he muttered.
Mei-Ling's throat bobbed. "Why are you here?"
Aelric's eyes flicked over her—quick, assessing. "I wanted to see... what the fuss was about."
"And?"
"Still deciding," he murmured. "You're not what I expected."
Mei-Ling blinked. "You thought I'd be delicate?"
"No," he admitted. "I thought you'd break."
Mei-Ling squared her shoulders. "Sorry to disappoint."
That—finally—made him chuckle, low and brief. "Not disappointed... yet."
He closed the distance, pale eyes gleaming with faint silver, the light catching like a blade's edge. His gaze met hers—jade-green, defiant even in exhaustion. A smirk ghosted his lips.
"Eat. Rest. You're no use to me dead."
"And if I don't?" she whispered, challenging.
His smirk sharpened. "Then I'll make it an order."
Mei-Ling flushed, lips parting—but Aelric turned and left without another word.
The door clicked shut behind him, leaving Mei-Ling breathless and furious with herself for it.
"What the hell was that?" Jingfei whispered, peeking around the doorframe.
Mei-Ling glared. "How long were you listening?"
"Long enough to know you're in trouble," Jingfei grinned. "Did he smirk at you?"
"No."
"That was a smirk, Princess."
"It was... something else." Mei-Ling exhaled. "He's dangerous."
"Yeah," Jingfei agreed. "So are you."
Meanwhile...
Aelric strode back to his quarters, teeth clenched, heart hammering harder than it should.
Lorianthel intercepted him with his usual smirk. "So... how was the princess?"
"She's..." Aelric paused, searching for the right word. "Not what I expected."
"Let me guess. Not simpering. Not terrified." Lorianthel grinned. "Made you want to kill her or kiss her?"
Aelric scowled. "Shut up."
Lorianthel chuckled. "Mmhm. Should've known that wild little thing would get under your skin."
"I want her watched," Aelric growled. "If she runs, I need to know."
"Because she's a flight risk?"
"Because... she's mine to deal with," Aelric snapped.
Lorianthel grinned wider. "Dangerous word, mine."