The Princess’s Bodyguard Can’t Say No

Seris – House Thalren

Seris sat on a soft bench, one leg crossed over the other, flipping through a thin book. She wasn't reading it. Her eyes moved, but her mind was somewhere else.

The room around her was as fancy as it got—gold decorations on the walls, polished floors, lamps that never flickered. Every shelf was full of trophies and expensive junk. She didn't care about any of it.

A knock came at the door.

"Yeah?" she said, not looking up.

The door opened. One of her spies stepped in. Quiet guy. Simple clothes. Always serious.

"It's from Lorem," he said. "He sent a report."

Seris shut the book and tossed it on the table.

"The princess?"

The spy nodded. "She left Graykeep Fortress a few hours ago. Just her and the thrall. No escort."

Seris blinked. "Alone?"

"Yeah. Lorem's following from a distance. Says they're riding light. No banners, no crest."

She let out a short snort. "Of course they are."

Seris leaned forward, elbows on her knees.

"What about the rebel setup?" she asked. "Anything new? Who signed off on it?"

The spy shook his head. "Nothing solid. Whoever did it was careful. No names. No trail. Lorem says it feels… too clean."

She clicked her tongue, annoyed. 

She leaned back again and looked up at the ceiling, quiet for a long moment.

"So I get dragged in front of the Court, almost executed, and no one knows who gave the order? No face, no signature?"

The spy didn't answer.

"Keep digging," she said. "I don't care how long it takes. Someone wanted me out of the way. I want their name."

"I'll let you know the moment we find anything."

"You better," Seris muttered.

The spy left. The door clicked shut behind him.

Seris stayed seated, staring at the fireplace. The flames moved, slow and calm, like they didn't care about anything either.

She didn't move.

Then, after a long silence, she clicked her tongue again.

"She's going to get him killed."

Her voice was soft, almost lazy. But her eyes were sharp.

"Dragging him around like some trained dog," she muttered. "No backup. No plan. Just her pride."

She frowned, jaw tight.

"He's not made for this kind of thing."

Another pause. She ran a hand through her hair, then let out a quiet scoff like she was brushing the thought away.

"Whatever. He brought me food. Doesn't mean I owe him."

But she didn't reach for the book again. Didn't move from her spot.

Just sat there, watching the fire.

Like she was waiting for something.

The fire cracked.

Then, out of nowhere, Seris slammed her hand down on the table.

THUD.

The sound echoed across the room. Somewhere in the hall, a servant jumped.

"Someone get in here!" she called out.

A young maid rushed in, wide-eyed. "Y-yes, my lady?"

Seris didn't even look at her.

"Go to the upper wing," she said. "Tell Van I need him. We're taking a short trip. He's coming."

The maid hesitated. "Van the… mage?"

"Yes. That Van. Tier Five. Old, slow, always complaining. Tell him."

"Right away, my lady!"

The girl spun and ran out, nearly slipping.

Seris sighed and rubbed her temples. "So much for subtle."

She walked to her desk, opened the bottom drawer, and pulled out a small leather satchel. It was plain, worn at the corners, but the contents inside weren't random. She packed it years ago for situations exactly like this.

Seris tightened the strap and slung it over her shoulder.

"If she wants to play games," she muttered, "fine."

POV – Reth / AsthiaLocation – Forest Outskirts, Morning

The ground was covered in mist, thick and low like it didn't want to leave. Leaves were wet with dew, shining a little in the soft morning light. Birds called out somewhere far away. The air was cold—sharp enough to feel, but not painful.

Asthia sat under an old, crooked tree. Her knees were pulled up, arms resting on top. Her dark cloak spread behind her like a second skin. She didn't speak at first. Just sat there, watching.

Watching him.

A few feet away, Reth was breathing hard. His cloth stuck to his back with sweat. Dirt covered his hands and arms. He was deep into his push-ups—somewhere past the halfway mark.

He hadn't been counting out loud.

But she had.

"That was ninety-three," she said, voice flat.

Reth let out a grunt. "That was ninety-four."

"Your elbow dipped."

"...Are you watching or judging?"

"Both."

Reth chuckled, tired but not annoyed, and kept going.

Push-ups. Sit-ups. Squats. Then a ten-kilometer run. Every single morning. 

Asthia frowned slightly, like he was a puzzle she didn't ask for.

"You do this every day?" she asked.

Reth had moved on to sit-ups. He nodded mid-rep. "Yeah."

"And it's always a hundred?"

"Yep."

She went quiet for a bit. A breeze stirred the trees, lifting a few strands of her hair.

"Is a hundred special to you, or are you just boring?"

Reth looked at her, sweat running down his face. "What?"

"One hundred. It's a nice number. Easy. Feels pointless. If you're building stamina, why not push harder? If it's control, where's your footwork? You don't even have a weapon."

"I'm not doing this to impress you, princess."

She rolled her eyes. "Obviously."

Reth finished his sit-ups and flopped onto his back, arms stretched out. He stared at the sky, chest rising and falling.

Asthia watched him for a moment, her expression unreadable. Not planning anything. Just... trying to figure him out.

"You do all this," she said quietly, "and you're still weak."

He turned his head toward her. "Thanks for the encouragement."

Reth closed his eyes, letting the cold dirt cool him down. "You're not exactly easy to ignore."

She narrowed her eyes, unsure if it was a compliment or not.

Then she stood up and brushed off her cloak.

"Finish your run," she said. "We're leaving in twenty minutes."

"What about breakfast?"

"You're looking at it."

"…You're the worst."

She didn't answer. Just turned and walked off, boots quiet on the wet grass.

Behind her, Reth groaned and sat up. His legs felt heavy. His back was sore.

But he stood anyway. Stretched. Took a deep breath.

Then started jogging.

Ten kilometers. 

And under all that soreness… a small smile pulled at his lips.

Because she was watching.

And for some stupid reason...

That made it worth it.