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SILIA

“S ILIA!”

After what feels like five minutes of sleep, I groan as that voice fills my head again. I ponder whether it’s worth it to strangle to death the person interrupting my sleep. The devil on my shoulder telling me , yes, of course it’s worth it , is starting to win as I tug the sheets up and over my head.

“Silia!” I hear my name a second time, a loud banging now accompanying the yelling. I angrily shove the sheets down, sit up—still half-asleep—then tumble out of bed. I rub my eyes, groaning atrocities as I rush to the door.

“Have you any idea what time it is?” I yell as I swing open the door to find Lars with his fist in the air, mid-knock.

He looks me once over and meets my gaze, “Well, good morning to you too, princess.” A smirk creeps onto his lips, and he averts his line of sight to stare down the hall at something I can’t see.

“You have some nerve waking me up in the middle of the night with your insistent banging.”

Still not meeting my gaze, Lars answers. “If you would look out the window, you would see it is daylight, and you are late.”

“Shit.” I turn to face the window to see if he is correct.

My curtains are drawn open, allowing the dim morning sun to pour in. How did I not hear Hila come in this morning to open them? Ugh, I’m late for my meeting with the king.

I turn back to face Lars, only to find him focusing very intently on something still out of my line of sight. “I will be ready in a minute. Wait for me here.” I make sure to slam the door in his face before I stomp my way to the closet. I pull out the first pair of training clothes I can find and head to my vanity. I don’t have any time to put on a gown, and without Hila here to help me, it would be nearly impossible to do it myself. I most certainly will not be asking Lars for help. The king would have to accept my informal outfit for today.

I stop dead in my tracks as I catch myself in the mirror to find my robe completely disheveled and no longer covering the top half of my body. Burning red with embarrassment, I curse to myself and quickly don my training clothes, re-braid my hair, and make my way to the bathroom to brush my teeth. Once I am semi-satisfied with myself, I head to the bedroom door.

Before I open it, I send up a silent prayer that Lars did not notice my robe—or lack thereof—and for this to not be the most awkward moment of my entire life.

I clear my throat as I open the door, and find him leaning against the wall opposite my room.

“Glad to see you remembered what clothes were,” he says, a smirk still plastering his face.

I feel the heat on my cheeks before I can even get a word out. “Please tell me you didn’t see anything.”

“I certainly have no idea what you’re talking about. It would be rude of me to comment on it,” he remarks, still sporting that wide-set grin as he pushes off the wall and offers his arm to me.

I have a feeling that if I touch him now, I’ll burst into flames right on the spot. I ignore his gesture and huff, then begin my walk to the throne room without him. I can’t believe Lars just saw my bare chest and didn’t say anything to me. I shake the thought away and try to settle the uneasy feeling in my stomach.

I can hear Lars behind me, trying to catch up as I run down the stairs and through the hallway to the throne room. Once I’m there, and almost out of breath, he joins my side, adjusting his clothes and making sure his hair is in place. To my surprise, it’s fashioned into a half-up half-down bun.

“Where is Rein? Did you leave him to fend for himself last night?” I ask, turning up to look at Lars.

His hazel eyes darken with devious implications as he leans down to whisper to me, “We had quite an enjoyable evening. I’m sure he’s nursing a hangover and he’ll meet us in there shortly.”

I roll my eyes and elbow him in the ribs, then open the door to the vast room. The walls of the throne room are covered with wood carvings of different creatures and ancient battles my ancestors fought. The crown molding has been painted in gold, and its vine details a deep emerald green—our kingdom’s colors. The curtains of the floor-to-ceiling windows have been opened to invite the sunlight into what usually is a dark room, allowing every piece of silver and gold to shimmer like stars.

I pull my attention away from the minor details I’ve seen hundreds of times and give the king a low curtsey, which must look strange since I’d opted for my training clothes instead of the gown I usually wear for meetings. Lars gives a deep bow and greets the king as well.

“Apologies, Your Majesty, for our delay. There seemed to be a wardrobe malfunction.” Lars sends a discreet wink my way, and I want to shrivel into myself and die.

“Good morning, Father. I hope we are not too tardy.” I rise and walk towards the throne. My father is decked out in his kingly attire with his armor on full display, our family crest at the center of his chest plate. Next to him is a second throne that is supposed to be for the queen—my mother. It has remained unused and coated with dust for twenty-three years.

“My precious Silia, I would wait a million lifetimes for you,” my father replies, smiling ear to ear. I return the gesture and savor the warm greeting. Something must be going well today. This type of greeting from my father is usually reserved for Diana, his most prized daughter.

I walk up the few steps of the dais to hug him, then return to Lars’s side. My father acknowledges his greeting and sits back down to begin our meeting.

“Mr. Dolos, how has training been progressing? I hear my daughter has bested you yet again!” My father sends an amused look my way, and I feel Lars shift uncomfortably beside me.

“Your Majesty, training has been progressing well. Silia is an adaptive learner and an excellent student.”

I ball my fists in anticipation, hoping this is going where I think it is. “Yes, Father. As you can see, I have perfected my combat skills and impressed Mr. Dolos in our recent training.” I side-eye Lars and continue. “I would like to request the start of my second phase of training. The entire purpose of having Mr. Dolos here is to work on my gift, is it not?”

My father gives an exasperated sigh. I have asked him this question at least a hundred times in the past year. “You are correct, dear. Mr. Dolos has done an excellent job in training you for my guard. However, until he sees fit, the training of your gift will have to take second priority.”

I look at my father with pleading eyes, my impatience growing with every second he says no. I don’t understand why he would go through all this effort to bring Lars here if we would not be utilizing it. Sure, he’s helped Rein in my physical and weapons training, but my father told me he specializes in training gift abilities.

Ever since I was young, my father has been insistent that I become captain of his guard when I come of age. The only reason I am not yet is because of my green fire incident. Luckily, Rein was more than willing to step into this role, as he was already a knight and blessed by Qhaena. I enjoy the thrill of fighting and besting my opponents, but a small part of me hopes that with Rein excelling in his role, Father will let me choose my own path. I don’t know which path I even want to follow, but I’m not sure I want to dedicate my life solely to the king’s guard.

After my birthday, I had become infatuated with my gift and wanted to learn more about it. I’m still researching when I find the time, but I believe my gift has something to do with necromancy—it would explain the green flames and black clouds of smoke I can conjure. And since my father has avoided all of my questions about it and made it illegal for anyone in the palace to speak about it, I’m all alone in my quest for answers.

Shortly after my father hired Lars to refine my gift, he had changed his mind and forbidden me from using it, having Lars focus on my fighting skills instead. I want to make my father proud, and I struggle with the prospect of upsetting him if I do not choose to become captain. After my mother died, he dove headfirst into his duties, and becoming captain seems to be the only way I can connect with him. If focusing on my fighting skills is what he wants to do, fine. I just do not know why he is pushing it so much harder than before.

“As you wish, King Goylstm.” I bow my head to my father. He despises me throwing his title back in his face like this.

I assume Lars senses my growing frustration, as he further explains to the king, “Your Majesty, Silia has shown great promise and has met my requirements for further training. With your permission, I would like to begin exploring her other capabilities.”

I audibly choke at the end of his sentence, and my face begins to heat for the second time today. An image of Lars exploring my intimate capabilities flashes through my mind. Of course, I know he is not talking about that , but after this morning, I am feeling a bit… flustered.

They both eye me with suspicion at my outburst, but continue with their conversation.

“Mr. Dolos, you know my hesitancy in beginning this training. However, if you believe she is ready, I will talk with Rein and see if he believes the same.” My father replies as he looks around the room. “Speaking of, where is that boy?”

As if on cue, Rein bursts through the doors and stumbles into the throne room, covered in sweat and looking as if he is about to vomit. He quickly adjusts himself and lowers into a deep bow, his head almost touching his knees. “Your Majesty, apologies for the delay.”

“Captain Survale, I had thought you dead! Why are you dripping sweat all over my floor, and where is your uniform?”

Still deep in his bow and looking like death, I could not help but giggle to myself at how disheveled he is.

“Forgive me. Time slipped away from me this morning, and I rushed here as fast as I could.”

Rein is indeed not wearing his armor, but had instead decided to run to this meeting in his sleeping pants and what looks like the first wrinkly tunic he could find. His short brown hair seemed to be the only thing he had time to fix this morning. At least he was able to run a wet comb through it before standing in front of the king.

“Stand up, boy, before you pass out and I have to call a healer!” My father does not seem as cheery as he’d been just a few moments ago.

Rein slowly raises himself and wipes his brow. My father looks between Lars and me before speaking to Rein. “Mr. Dolos seems to believe that Silia is ready for the second phase of training. Does this ring true to you, Captain Survale?”

“Uh, yes, sir!” Rein is now leaning against a table near the entrance of the room. “Princess Silia has shown exceptional progress and is fully prepared to begin working on her gift.”

“I see.” Father turns to me, “I am immensely proud of you. From what I have seen and heard—” Rein interrupts by producing a gagging noise. My father shifts his gaze behind me to give him a once-over, then returns his focus to me. “You seem to have pleased Mr. Dolos and Captain Survale and met their requirements. I have no choice but to approve your request.”

I run up to my father and pull him into a death-gripping hug. “Thank you, father. I won’t let you down!”

He nods towards Lars as I release him from our hug. “I expect weekly updates from you on Silia’s progress from now on.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Lars responds, and he bows his head.

“And Captain Survale, see to it you do not fall ill again and rely on Mr. Dolos to cover for you.”

Rein manages to shift his weight away from the table and fall into another deep bow. “Yes, Your Majesty. I do not know what came over me today. It must have been last night’s dinner.”

I give Rein and Lars a knowing look and roll my eyes. “From what I heard, Mr. Dolos and Captain Survale had quite an eventful time last night!”

They both whip their heads to me in disbelief as my father grumbles, fingers now squeezing the bridge of his nose, “Keep your private endeavors out of this palace, do you understand?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” they say in unison. I curtsy goodbye to the king and turn to leave the room, Rein and Lars in tow.

Once Rein shuts the door behind us, Lars leans against the wall just next to the door. “Thanks for that, Princess.”

“Oh, Mr. Dolos, you are ever so welcome!” I say in my cheeriest voice. I turn to Rein and comment with exaggerated worry, hand resting over my heart. “And Captain Survale, I do hope you heal from this mysterious illness!”

Rein begins to speak, but quickly covers his mouth and runs down the opposite hall to the bathroom.

“It seems you both did have quite a night. How are you not hungover?” I ask, eyeing Lars against the wall.

He’s wearing his usual training clothes, but to be more professional, he’s donned a leather belt lined with his daggers and our kingdom crest at its center. He has on his black and gold cloak that reaches past his ankles and to the floor, almost large enough to serve as a blanket if needed.

From this angle, I can make out the scar on the side of his jaw that he usually hides with his hair. I never asked how he’d gotten it or if he had others like it, but he has never divulged it in his personal life, so there’s probably a reason he hasn’t told me. Nevertheless, this is a rare day indeed.

“Some people stick to their limits, and others like to cross them. It must have been a rough night for Rein.” Lars crosses his arms and lightly rests his head against the wall, still looking over at me.

“I thought we had a productive day of training yesterday. You don’t think he’s actually upset that I used my gift, do you?” I begin to genuinely worry that I could have upset him. If my father were to find out I’d used my gift without his permission, he would have reason to fire them both.

“I do not believe so, princess.” Lars pushes off the wall and stalks towards me. “On the contrary, he was quite proud of you yesterday. However,” Lars stops in front of me and takes a piece of my hair between his fingers, lightly tugging on it. “He is not used to being rejected by such a pretty face.”

He shifts so he towers over me, pinning me to the wall with his stance. The dim glow from the candlelit hallway perfectly highlights his cheekbones, while the shadows mask the scar he is so eager to hide. He’s devastatingly handsome. My stomach flips, and desire pools in my gut. Images from the throne room flash through my mind once more, when Lars spoke about my other capabilities.

He stiffens for a moment, and then the corner of his mouth twitches up.

“That’s ridiculous. You’re the one who told him I couldn’t go out! I did not reject him.” I try my hardest to sound confident and not like I am about to melt into a puddle at his touch.

My breath hitches as Lars's eyes darken slightly, and he leans down, his warm breath tingling against my neck. “Go easy on him. He is quite smitten with you, Hecate .”

A shiver runs down my spine, and I swat his hand away, attempting to sober myself.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I know exactly what Lars is talking about. “He’s my best friend. You know nothing of our relationship,” I retort and try to come up with a million reasons in my head as to why Rein and I would not make a good couple. For one, he’s my best friend. Secondly, I think he’s obsessed with my sister. And third… weird .

He does not flinch as I swipe at him. Instead, he grabs my hand and gently kisses my knuckles, holding my gaze. “Of course, how foolish of me.”

My whole body is now on fire, and I know my face is every shade of red imaginable.

“And if you’re going to mock my name, I’d prefer you not use it at all.” Ever since my mother passed, I had preferred to go by my middle name, Hecate. Silia Hecate was the name my mother had given to me, and using it makes me feel closer to her.

I pull my hand away as I hear a door shut from down the hall. Lars backs away, but his gaze still rests on my face.

Rein comes shuffling back towards us, looking slightly less ill. “Please, I need something in my stomach. Let us go to breakfast.”

He holds out his arm to escort me to the dining room, and I loop mine in his. As we make our way down the opposite hall, I turn to see if Lars is following. He is, but he’s keeping his distance. When I meet his gaze, he sends me another wink, and I roll my eyes harder than I ever have before.

I turn back to assess Rein, making sure he’s not about to pass out. “Rein, please exercise restraint next time you insist on drinking. I’ll need to hand-feed you an entire loaf of bread to help your hangover.”

I hear his stomach grumble. “I would eat the linen napkins, at this point.”

We both chuckle as he leads me to the dining room, Lars trailing observantly behind us.

Upon entering the dining room, I notice no one else is here. Our table, which normally seats at least twenty people, only has three place settings—one for me, my father, and Diana, all three untouched.

“How uninviting.” Lars waves his hand, and two extra place settings appear.

I flinch as the utensils and plates clatter onto the table, "What the Hel?” I instinctively shout. “After an entire year of knowing you, how did I not know you could do that?”

“I knew.” Rein quickly walks to the place setting closest to him and takes a seat. “It's unsettling.”

“You weren't saying that when you had a lady friend over and asked for a—”

“Do not finish that sentence.” I raise my hand in the air and silence the next words that threaten to spill from his lips. Thinking about Rein’s personal business would have to wait until I’ve eaten something and taken at least a full day to mentally prepare myself.

Lars finds his place at the table and settles into his seat. I’m still standing, staring at the table in disbelief. Seeing Lars just summon things out of thin air makes me question my sanity.

Before I can get too deep into self-diagnosis, the palace chef, Raymond, emerges from the kitchen rolling a cart full of pastries, eggs, and a variety of fruit juices. “Raymond, have you seen Diana this morning?”

“Your Highness, I have not. Would you like Hila to fetch her?” He rolls the cart to the edge of the table and begins transferring the food to our plates as I take my seat.

Maybe she’s in the gardens or tending to her animals. Her closest companions are the hunting dogs we keep, and a black sheep named Sibbi who had shown up in the barn a few months ago.

“Yes, please. I would like her to eat if she insists on spending her day in the sun.”

Raymond finishes setting the food on the table and shuffles over to my chair. “Of course, Your Highness.” He gives a deep bow and scurries to find Hila.

It’s now late summer, and the sun has been scorching this season. If Diana isn’t careful, someone may find her passed out in the stables from heat exhaustion.

“Oh, Gods.” Rein lets out a moan and continues to stuff his face. “I’ve never devoured a pastry so fast in my life.”

Lars looks up from his plate and gives me a devilish smirk. Without breaking eye contact, he replies, “Rein, you must savor your dessert. You don’t want to rush these things. Taking your time is crucial .”

I choke on the juice I’m drinking.

Lars, now grinning, licks the chocolate from his pastry off his thumb and forefinger. “What’s wrong, princess? Should a gentleman not take his time?” I attempt to clean up the splattered juice on the tablecloth and send Lars a death glare. He puts his hands up in surrender. “My apologies. I will behave myself until noon.” He goes back to his eggs while Rein looks between both of us with a raised brow.

A change in subject is certainly needed, and I’m hoping either of them can ease my anxiety about my little sister. “Should I worry about Diana? She has never missed a meal like this.”

Rein pokes around at his food. “I wouldn’t worry too much about it, Sil. Diana can be forgetful. She is probably just running late.”

What a quaint life it must be to have all the free time in the world as she does. Although my father insists on his wish for me to take over as captain of the guard, his aspirations for Diana are different. He never expects anything grand of her or forces her to do physical training until her muscles give out. As much as I love making myself stronger, there are days I wish I could sleep in past noon, or bake a loaf of bread without worrying if it is good enough for our father.

He likes to keep a close eye on Diana, and he often worries about her mental state. Our mother passed away while giving birth to her when I was just three. I have never once blamed Diana for her death, and I never wish for her to feel any sort of guilt. This does not stop her from locking herself away in her room every year on her birthday. I wish she could have experienced the brief love of our mother, Asteria, as I did.

“ Fuck .”

I flinch as that voice materializes in my head once more. I dart my eyes around the room to see if anyone else is here.

I look to Lars, who is currently massaging his temples. “Did you hear that?” I ask in a faint voice. I don’t know why I’m whispering. This is probably the safest place I could be.

Lars pauses and slowly drags his eyes from his plate to meet mine. “Rein stuffing his face? Yes, I’ve had about enough of that.”

“No, you idiot.” I offer him a pleading look. “A voice. Did either of you speak just now?”

“Nope,” Rein answers at full volume, with a mouth full of food.

“I didn’t either, but I would like to go back to the moment of near-silence we were just having.” Lars seems extra agitated right now.

“What’s your deal? Did Rein eat all the eggs?” I ask Lars.

“No, it must be the hangover catching up with me. I didn’t sleep much last night.” Lars closes his eyes and continues with his massage.

“Join the club,” I confess. “I was woken in the middle of the night by the same voice I heard just now, but last night it said go .” Lars’s eyes shoot open and lock on mine, and he looks as if I just slapped him across the face.

“What? Did you hear something last night too?” I ask, slightly hopeful I’m not the only one going crazy. I’m sure I look like a madwoman making up conspiracy theories.

Rein sets his utensils down, resting his chin on his intertwined fingers. “Am I missing something here?” I look over to Lars and see he’s now staring down at his lap, fiddling with something.

Without looking up, Lars answers, “No, Rein. You and I were out all night. I am only tired from that. Remember ?” His tone sounds like he’s trying to explain to a toddler how a foot fits into a shoe.

Rein gives a satisfied hum, then looks over to me with the same quizzical look.

“I was exhausted from training last night and fell asleep in the bathtub, and that’s when I heard the voice. I was too tired to even change into clothes before heading to bed.”

Lars looks up from his lap, and any previous annoyance he had is now pushed aside by his normal smugness. “So that’s why I found you half-naked this morning.”

It was now Rein's turn to choke on his juice.

I throw my napkin at Lars and stand up quickly. “Really, Lars? That's what you took from this conversation?” He shrugs his shoulders and leans back in his chair.

“If everyone is back to normal now, I would like to end breakfast and begin our training.” I’m trying hard to move on from this, so that I don’t have to repeat out loud to Rein that Lars did in fact see my bare chest this morning.

“Silia!” My father bursts into the dining room, out of breath and frantic

“Father, what is it?” I rush towards him and grab his hands in mine. His face is dripping with sweat, and the calm demeanor he’d had an hour before has now vanished entirely.

“Your sister is missing.”