Nila followed Sol through the dense underbrush, her thoughts swirling with a strange sense of relief. The fire's warm glow came into view, casting flickering shadows on the faces of the men gathered around it. As she walked, she couldn't shake the feeling that something was off about this whole situation. Sol had seemed too welcoming, almost as if he had been expecting her. But she brushed that thought aside. She had no other choice. Joining this rebellion could be her best chance to fight against Cyrus Selene.
The small camp was tucked neatly into the forest. The men sitting by the fire were talking quietly among themselves, their eyes flickering toward Nila as she and Sol approached.
"That's him," Sol said as they reached the fire. "Found this one wandering in the woods. Says he's from the southern villages." Sol's tone was casual, almost too casual, but Nila didn't think much of it. She was too focused on keeping up the facade. She tugged her hood lower, not wanting the fire to reveal too much of her face.
The men gave her nods of acknowledgement but said nothing. They seemed to trust Sol blindly, which struck her as odd. She had assumed a rebellion would be more suspicious of recruits, especially ones who showed up out of nowhere.
"Sit," Sol said, gesturing to a log by the fire. Nila did as she was told, feeling the warmth of the flames wash over her. The men continued their quiet conversations, and Sol sat beside her, his eyes scanning the forest's edge as if expecting something or someone.
Nila shifted uncomfortably. She wasn't used to sitting among soldiers. She had grown up in the palace, surrounded by royal guards and servants, but these men were different. Hardened. Rough around the edges.
Just as she liked.
'Ahem! Nila you aren't here to thirst over them,' Nila was having a monologue with herself.
"You're lucky you found us," Sol said, breaking the silence. His voice was calm, yet there was an undercurrent of something darker beneath it, like a wolf disguised in sheep's clothing. "Cyrus's men have been roaming in these woods for days. Anyone caught out here alone would've been dragged back to the capital by now."
Nila swallowed hard, feeling a knot tighten in her stomach. "Yeah, lucky," she muttered, her mind racing. Did Sol know who she was? No, that wasn't possible. She had disguised herself too well, hadn't she? But then again, she was fleeing from a royal wedding, a very public event. If word had spread, it wouldn't be long before her father's men or Cyrus's men would be searching for her.
Sol leaned back on the log, his gaze fixed on the fire. "You're quiet, Niko. That's good. Quiet men survive longer in times like these." He tossed a stick into the flames, the fire crackling, "But tell me, what made you leave the southern villages? Doesn't sound like you had much of a plan when I found you."
"Why are you fighting Selene?" she asked, counter-questioning him.
Sol smiled revealing a pair of dimples. "Why fight anyone? Power, mostly. But for some of us, it's personal." He paused, his eyes lingering on her for a second too long as if he knew something she didn't. "Selene's got a way of making enemies, Niko. The kind that would do anything to see him fall."
Nila swallowed hard, trying to keep her voice steady. "I'll help."
"Just like that?" Sol chuckled, a light laugh that felt both disarming and chilling. "You must be pretty desperate."
''You can say that,'' she replied as if wanting to test the waters Nila asked, ''I heard he was getting married?''
Sol's eyes flicked toward her, his grin stretching lazily across his face as he leaned back, propping himself up on his elbows, "Ah, so even the southern villages hear of royal weddings, wedding to some princess, Nila, I think?"
He seemed amused as if he found the whole thing nothing more than a game. "Funny thing. Marrying a king who can't even bother to show up to his wedding."
''They say Selene's a bit of a... cold-blooded type." He continues his brown eyes catching hers for just a moment, as though daring her to respond.
Nila met his gaze, tilting her head slightly, trying to maintain the confidence of her assumed identity. "Cold-blooded?" she repeated, raising an eyebrow. "What kind of king doesn't show up for his wedding? Sounds more cowardly than cold."
Sol's smile broadened, his eyes flashing with something sharp and playful. "Oh, but maybe that's what makes him clever. Only a fool would willingly tie himself to a kingdom he plans to rule by fear." He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "He's the kind of man who'd play the long game, manipulate from the shadows."
Nila held his gaze, a strange tension crackling between them. Something was off about the way Sol spoke, as though he was testing her, challenging her in subtle ways. She wasn't sure whether she liked it or hated it, but she was determined to play along. "Sounds like you admire him, and as if you are, already on a losing battle" she said, a hint of sass creeping into her voice.
Sol chuckled softly, his gaze never leaving her. "Oh, Niko! Battles are rarely about winning or losing. They're about survival. And sometimes, aligning yourself with the monster is the only way to make sure you live to fight another day." His eyes sparkled with something dangerous, something almost playful. "But you don't seem like the type to play it safe."
Nila felt a chill run down her spine, though she couldn't tell if it was fear or something else. The way Sol looked at her, the way he spoke, it was like he was peeling back her layers, stripping away the mask she had carefully tried to construct. She fought the urge to squirm under his gaze.
"Well, I'm here, aren't I?" she said, her voice coming out a little sharper than she intended. "So I guess I'm not."
Sol leaned in slightly, his smirk widening. "No, you're not." He was close now, his presence overwhelming.
"I like that about you.''
Nila felt her pulse quicken again, this time not from fear. Sol had a way of making her feel seen. She had to stay on guard, had to remember why she was here, but it was difficult with him watching her like that, with that lazy, charming smile that seemed to suggest he knew far more than he was letting on.
"I didn't have much of a choice," she said, trying to keep her voice steady. "The southern villages don't offer much in terms of survival."
''Hmm..''
Sol murmured, his voice softening in a way that made her heart skip. "I like a man who's willing to gamble."
She needed to redirect the conversation before she slipped before she said something that would give her away. "You seem pretty confident for someone going up against the most powerful man in the kingdom," she said, trying to regain control.
Sol's smirk returned, his eyes twinkling with that same playful danger. "Confidence is key, Niko. You can't win a game if you're afraid to play." He stood, offering her a hand. "Come. Let me show you what we're fighting for."
Nila hesitated for a moment before taking his hand, feeling the warmth of his grip. As he pulled her to her feet, she couldn't shake the feeling that Sol was playing a much bigger game than she realized. And she wasn't sure if she was ready to face the truth that lay beneath his charming smile.
The fire crackled, casting shadows that danced against the trees, but it was the figure beside him Niko, she called herself. Beneath the hood, beneath the rough, travel-worn exterior, her doe-like black eyes gleamed in the firelight. Those eyes he would never forget. She could disguise her voice, and her mannerisms, but not those eyes.
He knew the moment he saw her. Nila.
Of course, she wouldn't recognize him as Sol. She wouldn't expect her husband-to-be to be roaming in the woods with a group of rebels, disguised as a knight.
She was beautiful in a way that haunted him, a beauty that had always intrigued him but never quite made sense until now. She was here, the runaway bride, the princess who had dared defy him, standing next to him without knowing she had walked straight into his hands.
It was almost too easy.
He had come here specifically to find her, to track her down before his soldiers could. Yet here she was, unwittingly by his side, trusting him.
Clever girl, he thought, glancing sideways at her as they walked deeper into the woods. But not clever enough.
Cyrus had assumed she would run. It was in her nature. That rebellious streak he had glimpsed in her the first time they met. She had a fire, a spark that burned just beneath the surface. And that spark, as dangerous as it was to his plans, also intrigued him. He had known this marriage wouldn't be simple, but when he'd first seen her.
Those damn eyes.
He had taken the guise of Sol to keep her off balance, to toy with her a little before he revealed himself. He had always been one for games, and this was a particularly delicious one. Watching her squirm, watching her try to play along while knowing she was completely unaware of the true nature of the danger she was in.
It was intoxicating.
As they reached the edge of the camp, he gestured toward a small tent, his voice easy and light. "Here we are," he said, pulling back the flap. "You'll be staying here tonight. Don't worry, Niko, it's just the two of us. It's been a long day. You could use some rest."
Nila's eyes widened slightly, her thoughts running wild, but she quickly composed herself, nodding as if it didn't bother her. But Cyrus could see the hesitation, the way she tugged her hood a little lower as if that would shield her from whatever tension hung in the air between them. She wasn't used to this kind of proximity with men. And he enjoyed watching her try to navigate it.
They stepped inside the tent, and Nila's eyes darted around. The space was small, a single mattress laid out in the centre, with a few pillows scattered across it. She turned to him, clearly trying to hide her discomfort. "Only one bed?"
Cyrus gave her a lazy grin. "It's all we've got. Don't worry, I won't bite. Also, we both are guys, aren't we?"
Nila's lips pressed into a thin line, her irritation showing through her cool demeanour. She grabbed one of the pillows and set it down between them on the mattress as if drawing a line in the sand. "Fine," she muttered, "just... stay on your side."
Cyrus chuckled softly, his amusement evident. "As you wish, Niko."
He lay down on his side of the bed, watching as she gingerly settled onto hers, facing away from him. The pillow barrier she had created was laughable, but he didn't say anything. He would let her have her little defence, for now. Soon enough, the truth would come out, and when it did, she wouldn't have any walls left to hide behind.
As the moonlight softly hit the tent Cyrus lay there quietly, listening to her breathing slow. Sleep overtook her quickly, and he found himself watching her, the rise and fall of her shoulders, the way her dark hair revealed from beneath her hood. She was more than just a pawn in his game, she was a mystery, one that he intended to unravel, piece by piece.
Sometime during the night, the pillow barrier disappeared. Cyrus wasn't sure when it happened, but he woke up to find her nestled against him, her head resting lightly on his chest, her soft breathing brushing against his skin. He could feel the steady warmth of her body, the way she fit so perfectly against him, as though this had been inevitable from the start.
He smirked to himself, resisting the urge to pull her closer. She would wake soon, and when she did, she would likely bolt from his arms, flustered and embarrassed. He could already picture the way her cheeks would flush that pretty shade of pink. But for now, he let her sleep.
As dawn broke, a soft light filtered through the tent, casting a gentle glow over Nila's face. Her eyelids fluttered open, and for a moment, she didn't move. She simply lay there, staring up at him, her expression soft and vulnerable. Her guard had dropped, if only for a second.
She was close, her face inches from his, her eyes tracing the sharp lines of his jaw, his nose, and then his lips. Cyrus could see the confusion, the hesitation in her gaze as if she didn't quite understand how she had ended up in his arms. But she didn't pull away. Not yet.
"Good morning, Niko," he said softly, his voice low and husky from sleep.
Nila blinked, her eyes widening as the realization hit her. She scrambled out of his arms, nearly tumbling off the mattress in her haste to put distance between them.
"Y-you—" she stammered, her face flushed with embarrassment. "I didn't mean to—"
Cyrus just smiled, sitting up slowly and stretching, his movements deliberately unhurried. "Relax," he said, his voice smooth. "It's not like I minded."
Nila glared at him, clearly flustered, but she said nothing. She turned away, tugging her hood back over her head as if that could somehow shield her from the humiliation she felt. Cyrus watched her with quiet amusement, knowing that the real game was only just beginning.
She had no idea who she was dealing with. But soon, she would. And when that moment came, he would be there, ready to remind her exactly who was in control.
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