The morning sun bathed the palace in pale gold as Zul moved through the corridors, carrying messages and reports. Today, however, he felt the weight of anticipation heavier than usual. Atlea, Mare, and Lya were all tasks and presences he could not ignore. The threads of their attention tugged at him in different ways, each demanding vigilance, patience, and subtlety.
His first stop was the northern wing. Atlea was already at her desk, surrounded by scrolls and ledgers. Her eyes lifted as he approached.
"Good morning, Zul," she said, voice precise as ever. "I trust your observations have continued."
"Yes, Princess Atlea," he replied. "I have noted the movements of the guards and servants as instructed."
She studied him for a long moment, then nodded. "Good. Accuracy matters more than swiftness. One mistake here can echo through the palace. Keep your mind sharp."
Before he could respond, a bell rang from the training yard, signaling the start of exercises. Mare was already shouting orders to the trainees, moving with commanding grace. Zul's attention shifted immediately.
"Go," Atlea said softly, almost a challenge. "Observe. Learn."
Zul nodded, his gaze following Mare as she corrected stances and demonstrated strikes. The soldiers obeyed her every command, and the yard seemed to bend around her presence. When she noticed him watching, her sharp eyes met his, and a small smile played on her lips.
"You observe well," she said, her voice cutting across the yard. "Most men fumble. You… do not. Perhaps you are worth testing."
He carried water to the trainees, careful with every step, but aware of her gaze lingering. The challenge was clear: Mare did not reward effort alone—she demanded competence, awareness, and courage.
By midday, Zul found himself in the palace gardens again, where Lya waited as she often did. The light of the afternoon caught her hair, and her eyes sparkled with curiosity and amusement.
"You have been busy with others," she said, standing as he approached. "Do you not tire of observing and serving? Do you never take a moment for yourself"
"I am learning," Zul replied. "And I find that every moment spent watching teaches me something."
Lya stepped closer, letting her hand brush against his arm lightly. "You are very careful," she said softly. "Perhaps too careful for someone who has been given a second life."
He met her gaze steadily. "I do not wish to waste it," he said.
Her laugh was low and musical. "Then perhaps we should see how much of life you are willing to risk," she murmured, leaning closer. The warmth of her hand lingered, a quiet test of courage and awareness.
As the afternoon waned, Zul returned to the northern wing, only to find Atlea waiting with a fresh task. Her calm, commanding presence contrasted sharply with the fiery Mare and playful, teasing Lya.
"You will need to balance your attention carefully," Atlea said, handing him a ledger. "Each person here has their own rhythm, their own expectations. Learn to move among them without losing your place."
Zul nodded. "I understand, Princess Atlea."
She regarded him for a moment, then her expression softened slightly. "Be aware, Zul. Each of them—Mare, Lya, and I—will test you in our own ways. Strength, patience, courage, cleverness. You must not fail."
By evening, Zul was exhausted but exhilarated. Mare had challenged his competence, Lya had teased his courage and awareness, and Atlea had reminded him of the need for precision and patience. Three hearts, three paths, all intersecting with him in ways he could not yet fully control.
He walked through the gardens alone, the moon rising over Eryndor. The cool night air brushed against his skin, and he realized that the task he had been given—winning the hearts of the three princesses—was no longer just a duty whispered to him by fate. It was becoming a living challenge, one that demanded his attention, his skill, and, perhaps, his heart.
And Zul knew that every step forward would bring him closer to desire, danger, and the tests that awaited him with Atlea, Mare, and Lya.
The palace was quieter than usual that evening, the corridors dimly lit by lanterns casting long shadows across the marble floors. Zul moved carefully, carrying a set of messages he had been entrusted to deliver. His mind, however, was not on the scrolls. It was on the three princesses, each pulling at him in different ways, each leaving a mark he could not ignore.
He first encountered Mare in the training yard. She was alone, practicing her strikes under the fading sun. Her movements were sharp, controlled, and deadly beautiful.
"You've been avoiding me," she said, not as a complaint, but as a statement, her eyes narrowing as she approached him.
"I was tasked elsewhere," Zul said, setting down the scrolls and bowing slightly.
Mare's lips curved into a teasing smile. "Tasks are excuses. I want to see how much courage you have, Zul. Come, spar with me."
He hesitated, knowing she did not mean a light practice. But he nodded. "Yes, Princess Mare."
For the next hour, she moved like a storm, and he moved like a shadow, reacting to her strikes, learning her rhythm. She tested his reflexes, his patience, even his mind, but with every touch, every brush of armor, he felt a spark that went beyond respect or duty.
When the practice ended, she stepped close, her hand brushing his shoulder. "Not bad," she said softly, her voice low and intimate. "You may survive in my world… if you continue to pay attention."
Zul nodded, heart hammering, before heading toward the eastern gardens where Lya waited. The air was cool, scented with jasmine, the moonlight reflecting in her green eyes.
"You've been busy with Mare," Lya said, a teasing tone in her voice. "Do you neglect me so easily?"
"I do not neglect you, Princess Lya," Zul replied. "I am here now."
She stepped closer, her hand lightly resting on his arm. The warmth of her touch sent a shiver down his spine. "Good," she whispered. "Because I want your attention tonight, and not just your words."
They walked together along the paths, the quiet garden wrapping around them. Lya leaned in, close enough that he could feel her breath, her presence intoxicating. "Do you feel the pull between us?" she asked softly. "The way fate seems to twist and bind us together?"
Zul swallowed, his pulse quickening. "I feel it," he admitted. "And I do not know if I can resist it."
Lya laughed softly, brushing her fingers against his sleeve. "Resist? Why would you want to resist? Life is short, and moments like this are rare."
Before he could respond further, a soft voice called from the northern wing: Atlea.
"Zul, come here," she said, her tone calm but carrying authority that made him stiffen in attention. He found her surrounded by ledgers and scrolls, her golden hair pinned neatly, eyes sharp as ever.
"You've been with the others," Atlea said, eyes studying him, "but your work here is not done. Balance your duties, or all three of you will fail me."
Zul bowed. "I will not fail, Princess Atlea."
She studied him a long moment, her expression softening just slightly. "Perhaps you will surprise me," she said. "Pay attention to what I ask, and you may learn how to navigate all three of us. It will require more than strength or charm—it will require subtlety, wisdom, and courage."
As he worked beside her that night, Zul realized how entangled his world had become. Mare had tested his courage and skill, Lya had teased his desire and awareness, and Atlea had challenged his intellect and patience. Each princess demanded a different part of him, pulling him in directions that could not be reconciled easily.
The palace walls held whispers of ambition, desire, and strategy. Zul's heart raced as he understood the stakes. Winning their hearts was no longer just a task—it was a trial that would consume him, test him, and shape him into something more than he had ever been before.
And as he moved through the night, carrying messages and observing every detail, he felt the pull of all three at once, their presence like three stars orbiting his fate. The Harem was no longer just a whispered destiny it had begun.