Seraphina
My hands shook as I pushed open the heavy wooden door. The room was bigger than I'd expected, two narrow beds, two wooden chests, and a window that looked out over the training yards. Everything was neat and orderly, like a soldier's quarters should be.
He sat on the far bed, reading a leather-bound book. When I entered, he looked up, and my breath caught in my throat.
Kieran Stormbane was nothing like the golden heroes from Elena's stories. His hair was silver-white, cut short and practical. His shoulders were broad beneath his simple training shirt, and his arms showed the lean muscle of someone who'd spent years with a sword. But it was his eyes that made me freeze, pale blue like winter ice, sharp and knowing.
"You must be Seth," he said. His voice was calm, quiet. Not what I'd expected from the kingdom's greatest warrior.
"Yes, sir," I managed, my voice cracking slightly. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Seth Thornbrook."
He studied me for a long moment, then returned to his book. "I'm Kieran. Take the bed by the window. Try not to snore."
That was it? No grand speech about honor and duty? No lecture about Academy rules? I'd built him up so much in my mind that his simple greeting left me off-balance.
I set my small pack on the bed and tried to look busy unpacking. But I felt his eyes on me even when he pretended to read. Every movement I made seemed too careful, too feminine.
"Where are you from, Seth?" he asked without looking up.
"The northern villages, sir. Near the border." The lie came easier now after days of practice.
"Which village?"
My heart skipped. "Millbrook. It's small. You probably haven't heard of it."
"I've heard of it." He turned a page. "My unit passed through there two years ago. Fought off a bandit raid."
Sweat beaded on my forehead. I knew nothing about Millbrook beyond its name on Elena's map. "My family... we keep to ourselves mostly."
"Mm." He didn't sound convinced.
I finished unpacking in silence, hyperaware of every breath I took. The binding around my chest felt tighter with each passing minute.
"Dinner's in an hour," Kieran said, finally closing his book. "Don't be late. The instructors notice everything here."
He stood and walked to the door, moving with the fluid grace of a trained fighter. At the doorway, he paused and looked back at me.
"A word of advice, Seth. Whatever you're running from, it followed you here. This place has a way of stripping away lies."
My blood turned cold. "I don't know what you mean."
His pale eyes held mine for a heartbeat too long. "Of course you don't."
Then he was gone, leaving me alone with my racing heart. The dining hall was a cavern of stone and timber, filled with long wooden tables. Hundreds of young men sat eating and talking, their voices echoing off the high ceiling. I found an empty spot at the end of a table, hoping to stay invisible.
"Seth!" Elias dropped onto the bench beside me, his plate piled high with meat and bread. "How'd it go with our famous roommate?"
"Fine," I said, picking at my food. "He seems... quiet."
"Quiet?" Elias laughed. "That's one word for it. Kieran's been here three years, and I swear he's spoken maybe a hundred words total. But put a sword in his hand..." He whistled low. "Pure poetry, if poetry could kill you."
"He's really that good?"
"Better." Elias tore off a chunk of bread. "Last month, he sparred with Master Aldwin, the head combat instructor. Kieran had him on his back in thirty seconds. Thirty seconds, Seth! Master Aldwin's been fighting for forty years."
I glanced toward the high table where the instructors sat. Kieran was there too, eating in silence while the masters talked around him.
"Why do they let him sit with them?" I asked.
"Because technically, he outranks half of them," Elias said. "The High King made him a knight at sixteen. He's only here because the King wants him to learn strategy and leadership, not just fighting."
As if he felt my stare, Kieran looked up from his meal. His eyes found mine across the crowded hall, and I quickly looked away. But not before I saw something flicker in his expression, curiosity? Suspicion?
"You're staring," Elias said with a grin. "Don't worry, half the cadets are a little in love with him. The mysterious, brooding thing works on everyone."
Heat flooded my cheeks. "I'm not.."
"Sure, sure." Elias waved his hand. "Just be careful, little bird. Kieran Stormbane doesn't make friends easily. And he has a way of seeing things others miss."
The rest of dinner passed in uncomfortable awareness. Every time I looked up, Kieran seemed to be watching me. Not obviously, he was too well-trained for that. But I felt his attention like a weight on my shoulders.
When the meal ended, I followed the other cadets back to the dormitories. My room felt smaller with Kieran in it, the air thicker. He sat at the small desk, sharpening his sword with long, careful strokes.
"How long have you been training with a blade?" he asked without looking up.
The question caught me off guard. "What makes you think I train with a blade?"
"The way you move. You have a fighter's balance, but you're trying to hide it." He tested the sword's edge with his thumb. "Someone taught you properly. Not some village blacksmith fooling around."
My mouth went dry. "I don't know what you mean."
"Your hands are soft, but I can see the calluses from sword work. Your stance when you walk suggests weapons training. And your scent..." He paused, finally looking at me. "You smell like lavender soap and fear. An interesting combination."
"Everyone's afraid their first day," I said weakly.
"True." He set the sword aside and leaned back in his chair. "But most new cadets are afraid of failing. You're afraid of being discovered."
The room felt like it was closing in around me. "Discovered doing what?"
"That's what I'm trying to figure out." His pale eyes never left my face. "You're not from Millbrook. Your accent is wrong, too educated, too refined. You're pretending to be older than you are, and your nervousness isn't about Academy training."
I stood up quickly, my heart hammering. "I should get some sleep. Long day tomorrow."
"Seth." His voice stopped me at my bedside. "I don't know what game you're playing, but be careful who you trust here. Some secrets are more dangerous than others."
I changed into my sleeping clothes with my back turned, hyperaware of his presence. The binding around my chest had left red marks on my skin, and I rubbed them gingerly.
"Good night," I said, climbing into bed.
"Good night, Seth."
I lay still, listening to his quiet movements as he prepared for sleep. The Academy settled into nighttime silence around us, distant voices, closing doors, the creak of old wood.
Just as sleep began to take me, drifting me toward dreams of safety and freedom, his voice cut through the darkness like a blade.
"You're hiding something."