The young woman studied him with a hint of curiosity, a small shrug escaping her shoulders as she processed his words. She understood the seriousness of her role, and by extension, his—protecting her was more than just a duty; it was an obligation that would weigh on him more than anyone else if something went awry. "I know, Malakai," she murmured softly, her voice tinged with understanding but also a quiet defiance. He looked young, not much older than she was, and yet he was so devoted to his role—so wrapped up in royal protocol. It was a contrast she couldn’t quite reconcile. Camery had always felt the urge to break free from the rigid expectations placed on her, while Malakai seemed determined to follow every rule to the letter.

She let out a breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding, the first light of dawn spilling through the windows and casting a soft glow across her features. It illuminated the golden markings tracing her skin, the symbols of her lineage, a constant reminder of what she was meant to be. Her hair caught the sunlight, shimmering in ways that seemed almost unnatural. It was unnatural, too, she supposed. She couldn't escape it—not the power, not the burden. It was always there, a part of her.

When the food arrived, she flashed Malakai a smile, bright and genuine, though she knew it was a fleeting moment of enjoyment that didn’t quite belong in his world. He wasn’t here to entertain a princess; he was here to keep her safe. Yet, he didn’t seem interested in the idle conversation she offered. "You stay up here?" she asked, her tone curious but light. "I haven’t been down to the servants’ quarters in years," she added, tapping her finger thoughtfully to her chin. Her eyes flickered toward him, assessing his response. "Is that... all?" she asked with a slight tilt of her head, the question more playful than pointed.

It was rare to see a guard who didn’t spend his evenings at the tavern, or with family, or even—she imagined—with a lover. Malakai, though, seemed content to keep to his duties, his life confined to the walls of the castle. And in that quiet simplicity, she couldn’t help but wonder what it was like to be so dedicated.

Camery nodded, her expression thoughtful as she processed his words. It made sense, she supposed. The guards worked long hours, and as her personal bodyguard, Malakai would likely receive perks that came with the job—better quarters, more privileges. She chewed her food in silence, her mind wandering. If she were in his position, she’d want to go out, to experience life beyond the walls of the castle. The freedom that came with being able to step outside and go wherever you wanted, whenever you wanted—it was a luxury she couldn’t even begin to imagine.

Her gaze flickered back to him, a mixture of curiosity and puzzlement in her eyes. He was young, attractive—he had his own free will. So why didn’t he seem to use it? Why wasn’t he out doing things, exploring the world, meeting people, living a life that was his own? She couldn’t help but wonder.

"You should—" She hesitated, then shrugged, a teasing smile tugging at her lips. "I mean, you're only with me until sunset. You should go out and do... something." Her voice lightened, playful. "Go see some friends, or—" She paused with a slight chuckle, feeling the conversation begin to waver in a way that was probably uncomfortable for him. "Go on a date, or something." She couldn’t help herself, the words slipping out more naturally than she intended. She knew he probably didn’t want to talk, especially not about something as frivolous as this. Their conversations were usually brief—polite, to the point, always focused on her needs or the occasional request. But now that he’d been here for a while, a small part of her wanted to know him beyond his duties, especially if he was planning to stay on as her guard for the long haul.

When he merely stared at her, not reacting, she furrowed her brow, puzzled. It happened sometimes—people often stared at her because of the markings that decorated her skin, the golden markings that shimmered like sun rays. Most of the villagers had never seen anything like them, and she often felt their gazes linger longer than she cared for.

"You know," she said with a soft laugh, breaking the silence, "you’ll get used to them eventually." She pointed to the markings on her skin, the golden lines catching the light, almost glowing in the sunlight. "I mean, you will, at some point, if you keep working with me." She hummed, trying to keep the conversation light and easy, though a part of her knew it probably wasn’t the most comfortable subject for him. But if nothing else, she’d given him a glimpse of who she really was, beyond the title.

Camery finished her meal slowly, her gaze lingering on Malakai as she did. He was quiet—so quiet, in fact, that it almost felt unsettling. She couldn’t help but wonder if he was uncomfortable, if her presence was too much for him to handle. It didn’t bother her, not really. She could be a lot to take in. He was just her bodyguard, after all. Nothing more, nothing less.

As a few maids came to clear their plates, she flashed them a quick grin of thanks, the corners of her mouth lifting in a gesture she often gave without thinking. She waited until Malakai had finished before standing up, her movements light as she began to walk toward the door. "What do you mean, you don't have friends?" she asked with a soft laugh, her tone teasing but not mocking. She moved through the cozy dining room, each step deliberate, as though her thoughts were still wrapped around his strange lack of social connections.

She paused, her hand resting briefly on the doorframe, and glanced back at him. She didn't necessarily have friends, either, not in the way most people did. She had people who worked for her, people whose loyalty she had earned—or who had been assigned to her—by birthright. Her life had never been hers to shape in such simple ways.

Turning her attention back to him, she couldn’t help but notice how perfectly he positioned himself, always a step behind, chest facing her, shoulders back, eyes alert and focused. It was reassuring, but it also made her feel a little more isolated. Nothing would happen, of course. But if something did, she was sure he would be prepared.

"I’d offer to be your friend," she called over her shoulder, a light chuckle in her voice, "but you didn’t even want to eat breakfast with me." The words held no real sting—just the gentle humor of a princess trying to make light of the distance between them.

Her mind wandered as she walked, aimlessly, until she found herself in her room. Papers—old documents, mostly—were piled on her desk by her mother, detailing the laws of the kingdom and the growing tensions with the Night Kingdom. She flopped down onto the chair, gesturing to the one across from her. "You can sit, if you want," she said, though her attention was already drifting back to the papers in front of her.

As she leafed through the documents, her head tilted slightly, a thought forming. She glanced up at him, her gaze curious but soft. "I don’t suppose you’ve overheard anything about the Night Kingdom, have you?" she asked quietly. "There’s word of a spy." She gave a small, almost bitter laugh, then looked back at the papers. "That’s why you’re here," she added with a light shrug, though the seriousness in her eyes betrayed the calmness in her voice.

It wasn’t just royal politics. It was her life, and her future, resting on the fragile balance between kingdoms—too precarious to ignore, too important to leave in anyone else’s hands.

She tilted her head slightly, her brows knitting together in confusion. He didn’t seem at all thrilled by the idea. The realization hit her like a cold slap, sharp and unexpected. She could feel the tension creeping up her spine as the words As you wish echoed in her mind, over and over, like a mantra. They felt too passive, too empty. Did he really not care? It was as though as long as the princess was kept quiet, nothing else mattered. She drew in a long breath, letting it escape slowly, an effort to mask the frustration she couldn’t quite hide. A small, forced smile tugged at her lips, though it didn’t reach her eyes. The air in the room seemed to thicken, and her gaze shifted back to him. He was stiff, rigid—had she done that? Had she somehow made him uncomfortable? She hoped not. She had only wanted someone close, even if just for a moment. He had agreed they should be friends, but here he was, standing a few paces away, as if waiting for some sort of signal. The smile that had barely formed on her lips faltered and turned into a frown.

"We don’t have to," she said softly, her voice trailing off as her gaze flickered back to the papers on the desk. Something caught her eye. The Fire Kingdom. She paused, her thoughts momentarily drifting. A year ago, she’d shared a fleeting, reckless affair with the youngest heir to the Fire Kingdom’s throne. His presence had always been accompanied by the scent of burning embers, a warmth that somehow made her feel safe, even though, deep down, she knew fire was dangerous—and so was he. But in that moment, it had felt comforting, almost comforting in its heat.

Her attention snapped back to him when he spoke again, this time mentioning trust. His words amused her more than anything. "Well, you're gonna have to earn my trust then, aren’t you?" she hummed, her tone teasing. "It couldn’t matter less what you think of me," she muttered under her breath, her words edged with a quiet bitterness. It was clear now—he didn’t think much of her. This conversation felt like a one-way street, and she couldn’t help but notice how little interest he seemed to show. Or was it annoyance? He stood there, so tense, his jaw clenched and the muscles in his neck straining. Yeah, it was annoyance, she thought so anyway.