The courtyard was filled with the sound of laughter and clinking stones as a group of noble children played a game of strategy and chance, their gathered maids and tutors watching from a distance. Liam sat near the edge, his brows furrowed in deep concentration, a small wooden board spread out before him.
Across from him sat Corin, Aedric's son, who had insisted on the match after mocking Liam for "lurking like a servant's child."
"You even know how to play?" Corin had sneered earlier. "Try not to embarrass yourself."
But now, Corin's smirk had long since vanished. His eyes darted across the board, and he slammed his piece down in frustration as Liam made the winning move.
"I won," Liam said softly, a little stunned himself.
Corin flushed, his face red. "You cheated!"
"I didn't," Liam replied, shrinking back a little. "You rushed me to play. You said..."
Before Liam could finish, Corin stood and shoved the board hard. Pieces scattered across the stones. "You're just a worthless little stray your sister dragged in!"
Some of the other children laughed nervously, unsure whether to join in or back away.
That's when the courtyard fell silent.
Thornak's shadow stretched long across the stones as he stepped forward.
"Is this how the heir of Lord Aedric treats those who best him?" he asked, his voice low but carrying.
Corin paled. "Your Majesty....I...."
"You insisted on the match. You lost. And now you humiliate yourself further by proving you can't handle defeat."
The boy opened his mouth to protest, but Thornak's voice cut like frost.
"Clean up the mess. Apologize. And leave."
Corin bent stiffly to gather the pieces, stammering an apology before scurrying off, face burning with shame.
Liam still sat frozen on the stones, staring up at Thornak.
The king knelt beside him, surprising everyone.
"You held your ground," he said, returning the carved piece to Liam's hand with quiet approval. "That takes more strength than most realize."
Liam whispered, "He called me worthless."
"You're not," Thornak said firmly, meeting his eyes. "You're here because you belong here. And next time someone forgets that, send them to me."
A grin broke across Liam's face, wide and fierce.
"Okay," he whispered, like he finally believed it.
Thornak smiled faintly. "Now… go wash up, eat something. And if you're still awake later tonight....."
Liam's head lifted slightly, a spark of curiosity in his eyes.
"I'll come tell you a story," Thornak said, his voice low and conspiratorial. "One where the quiet boy outsmarts the wolves who underestimated him."
For a heartbeat, Liam just stared in surprise, then a wide, bright smile broke across his face, the kind that didn't quite know how to stay hidden. He nodded, the carved token clutched tightly in his hand.
"Really? Do you promise?" he sounded so excited.
Thornak extended his hand, palm up. "Lycans keep their word."
Liam placed his small hand against it, sealing the promise.
....
Mira smoothed the last fold of the quilt and fluffed the pillows around Liam, who sat with his legs tucked under him, clutching his favorite stuffed wolf.
"There," Mira whispered, adjusting the curtains to keep the chill out. "Nice and warm now."
Lara stood beside the hearth, absently smoothing the sleeves of her nightrobe. Though she doubted the king would come, her heart fluttered with unease.
Liam had only just gone to bed after his evening wash. He had begged to stay with her again, and she had not the heart to refuse. With their parents returned to the village, and the boy still finding his place within palace walls, she welcomed the comfort of his nearness as much as he did.
A soft knock interrupted the stillness.
Dorian's voice came from the other side of the door. "His Majesty, the King."
Lara froze. Mira's eyes widened, and without a word, she slipped quickly through the side door, offering Lara a subtle, reassuring smile before disappearing.
The door opened, and Thornak stepped inside.
He wore a simple dark tunic and breeches, his hair damp at the ends as though he'd recently bathed.
Her breath caught and her heart began to race. He stole the air from the room without meaning to, without even knowing why he affected her so.
"You're still awake," he said softly, closing the door behind him.
Lara straightened instinctively. "Yes, Your Majesty."
His eyes slid to the bed where Liam blinked at him, immediately sitting up. "You came, Your Majesty," Liam whispered, excited but sleepy.
"I said I would." Thornak stepped closer and offered a smile. "Didn't I promise a story?"
Liam nodded and scooted over, making space.
Lara hesitated, unsure what to do with herself as the king of Vargorath sat on her bed and began telling her little brother a tale about a warrior and a rogue, his voice low and even. Liam leaned in, eyes wide with wonder.
She stayed silent, watching from the side, heart full of questions and emotions she didn't know how to name.
The man who commanded armies… was telling stories to her little brother. In her room. Like it was the most natural thing in the world.
By the time Thornak finished, Liam had slumped against him, fast asleep.
Thornak looked down at the boy, then up at Lara. "He's a good kid."
She nodded, swallowing thickly. "He… he's still getting used to being here. Thank you, for letting us stay."
He rose carefully, laying Liam gently back against the pillows and tucking the blanket around him.
Without a word, he crossed the room and came to stand before her, close enough that the heat of him touched her skin. The hearth crackled behind her, but it was not the flames that made her feel as though she were burning. He said nothing, just looked at her, steady and unblinking.
Her throat tightened. Her breath became shallow. Heat spread beneath her skin like spilled wine, pooling in places she could not name, waking something low and deep inside her.
"I'd like to show you something tomorrow," he said softly.
She had never stood this close to a man before. Never felt her own skin grow warm just from nearness. It made her dizzy.
She didn't dare look away. Couldn't. His eyes held her there.
"All… all right," she managed, her voice quiet, fragile.
"There's a place across the stream," he continued, "a clearing that catches the first light. Let's have breakfast there just the two of us."
She could only nod, the motion small and uncertain. Her legs no longer seemed to belong to her, weak beneath the weight of his nearness.
He hadn't touched her but he was close enough that their breath mingled, their lips nearly brushing. So close she could feel the heat of him on her mouth. A single movement and they would meet.
"I'll be waiting at dawn," he said, his voice a quiet promise.
Then he turned and slipped silently from the room, leaving her standing in the soft glow of candlelight, her heart beating much faster than before.