Of Rogues and Royals

The morning light filtered into their chamber, casting a golden glow. Edric stood by the window, gazing out at the forested mountains that stretched beyond Bearhold. Turning back, he smiled softly at his wife, who sat cross-legged on the bed, braiding her dark hair.

"My love," he began, his voice warm yet tinged with purpose. "We need to make a trip back to Eldoria. The king will expect a report from you on my mission, the time you spent in the city, and when you saved the princess."

Lyraeth looked up, a slight worry in her gaze. "Of course, my dear. I’ve also been worried about Princess Elara—I hope she’s well."

"Then it’s settled," Edric replied with a nod, "I’ll have the carriage prepared."

At that, Lyraeth’s eyes lit up with uncharacteristic excitement, a grin spreading across her face. "A carriage? Finally, no more aching legs or bouncing around on horseback?" She laughed, her tone teasing but genuine.

Edric chuckled at her enthusiasm. "Finally. I thought you might appreciate a bit of comfort for once."

"I do," she admitted, her smile softening. "I’ve never actually traveled in one before. It’ll be different than what I’m used to."

Edric raised an eyebrow, tilting his head in disbelief. "Wait—never? You’re the daughter of a goddess. You’re like royalty, even higher than royals. How is it possible you’ve never ridden in a carriage?"

Lyraeth shrugged, her tone casual. "I didn’t leave my mother’s city until I was twelve. If I went somewhere and I got tired, one of my brothers would just pick me up and carry me."

"Carry you?" Edric repeated, his expression shifting from confusion to incredulity.

"Yes," she said lightly, her lips curving into a mischievous smile. "So technically, I’ve never needed a carriage. And after twelve, I left home and hid my identity, so I walked."

Edric stared at her, stunned. "You mean to tell me that while I was trudging through mud and climbing cliffs as a boy, you were being carried around like some spoiled princess by gods?"

"Not a princess," Lyraeth corrected a sparkle of humor in her eyes. "Something better, apparently."

He shook his head, his lips twitching in disbelief and amusement. "Spoiled rotten. You were absolutely spoiled rotten."

Lyraeth burst into laughter, the sound filling the room like sunlight. "Maybe. But you can’t blame me, can you?"

Edric sighed dramatically, throwing up his hands. "I don’t even know why I’m surprised anymore."

As the day passed, the two prepared for their departure. Lyraeth packed efficiently, folding her lightweight dresses and cloaks, and tucking a small bundle of enchanted tools into her satchel. Her fingers lingered on the hilt of her dagger, its blade polished to a gleaming silver.

Edric watched her as he buckled his sword belt. "We’ll be at court," he reminded her gently. "The king expects decorum, even from a rogue like you."

She smirked, slipping the dagger into her boot. "I’ll behave. Mostly."

Night had fallen over Bearhold, casting a quiet serenity over the stone walls. Edric stood by the firelight in their chamber, his gaze distant as he contemplated their upcoming journey.

Lyraeth watched him for a moment before stepping forward. "You look troubled, Edric."

He met her eyes, his expression softening. "I am, in a way. The court is a dangerous place, and I worry how they'll perceive you. Especially Baron Lucius Merrick... He holds more influence than ever and has reason to view us both as threats."

Lyraeth placed a comforting hand on his arm. "You think he'll make trouble for us?"

"Perhaps," Edric admitted. "He saw you at Casetown and he’ll recognize your face. He doesn’t know everything, but he’ll be watching to uncover any weakness." His voice dropped to a murmur. "The explosion that separated us—it was his doing. He meant to stop me from returning."

A chill passed through her, and her gaze hardened. "He won’t catch us off-guard again."

The next morning, the clatter of hooves and the creak of wood echoed in the courtyard as the carriage awaited them. Lyraeth stood by the door, her eyes bright with anticipation. As Edric helped her into the plush interior, she couldn’t hide the small smile that tugged at her lips.

"It’s strange," she said, smoothing the embroidered cushions. "To think we’re traveling like nobles instead of sneaking through forests or scaling walls."

Edric chuckled, settling beside her. "Enjoy it while it lasts. The court may be more treacherous than any forest."

A few days later they reached the capital. Lyraeth’s attire—an elegant gown woven with silver threads—felt foreign to her, but she carried herself with regal composure, aware of her new role alongside Edric. The weight of her gown felt like armor as they approached the grand hall.

Once they reached the palace, Edric and Lyraeth were escorted into a secluded chamber. Only the king waited within, his gaze warm but filled with the weight of unspoken words. He stood by the fire, his tall frame cloaked in rich fabrics, but there was no distance between him and Edric.

Though King Thorne was a father figure to Edric after his parents’ death, the bond between them was tempered by the weight of royal decorum.

“General Bearhold,” the king began, his voice rich with authority but laced with warmth, “you’ve returned this means she must be your wife.”

Edric inclined his head. “Indeed, Your Majesty. Allow me to introduce my wife properly.” He stepped aside, gesturing to Lyraeth, who stood poised yet hesitant beside him. “This is Lyraeth—my wife. She has been here in the capital these past weeks, aiding Princess Elara.”

The king’s sharp, wise gaze shifted to Lyraeth, his brows knitting together for a moment. “Lyraeth…” he murmured, the name rolling over his tongue thoughtfully. Then his eyes widened slightly. “You—you are the one who saved my daughter. The mysterious guardian who risked her life for Elara?”

Lyraeth dipped her head humbly. “I only did what anyone would, Your Majesty.”

A smile broke through the king’s regal exterior, warmth softening his features. “Anyone? I think not. You protected her at great personal cost. And now I find that you are the wife of my most trusted general.”

King Thorne regarded them both with a deep, thoughtful gaze before speaking. “I owe you both a debt I can never repay. Lady Lyraeth, for saving my daughter, and you, General Bearhold, for completing your mission. I insist on rewarding you—both of you. Tell me what you need, and it will be yours.”

Lyraeth shook her head, her voice steady. “Your Majesty, we need nothing.”

Edric nodded in agreement. “Your generosity is appreciated, sire, but we do not need anything further.”

The king’s expression turned resolute. “Should the day come when either of you needs aid, you have but to ask. That is my decree.”

They inclined their heads in acknowledgment before continuing the report.

Lyraeth recounted the events succinctly: how she had helped Edric in the spirit world, the baron’s treachery in attempting to stop him, and the plots against the royal palace that she had uncovered while working with Princess Elara. She described how she had saved the princess during the baron’s attack and how Edric, had saved her life.

As she spoke, the king’s expression grew grave, but his admiration for her was evident. “You’ve done more for this kingdom than I could have ever imagined,” he said softly.

Lyraeth hesitated before speaking again. “There is one more truth I feel you must know, Your Majesty. I share it only because I believe it may aid us in the long term.” She took a deep breath. “I am the daughter of Feylenora, the Goddess of Animals. That's why I survived the baron's curse without any irreparable effects.”

A stunned silence filled the room. The king’s gaze flicked to Edric, seeking confirmation.

Edric met his eyes and gave a small nod. “It’s true, sire.”

The king’s respect for Lyraeth deepened visibly. “A goddess’ daughter,” he murmured, almost to himself. “Now I understand why you asked for no recognition, no title, no power. Remarkable.”

Lyraeth dipped her head. “I ask only that you treat me as a simple woman from the spirit world, Your Majesty. I do not wish to make my heritage public.”

The king smiled faintly. “A secret I will keep, Lady Lyraeth.” He glanced at Edric, a hint of humor returning to his tone. “General, I must say—you’ve married far above your station. How did you manage it?”

Edric chuckled lightly, his expression a mix of pride and exasperation. “I only found out recently, Your Majesty. But I suppose I’m a lucky man.”

The king let out a warm laugh, a sound as rare as it was genuine. “Indeed, you are, Edric Bearhold. And Calarith is all the better for it.”

At last, the king gestured toward the door, where a servant quietly awaited his command. “Bring Princess Elara,” he said.

Moments later, the door opened, and in rushed the young princess, her steps faltering as she laid eyes on Lyraeth. She stopped in place, her breath catching in a silent gasp. Then, with a cry of pure joy, she ran forward.

“I thought you’d gone forever!” Elara’s words broke with emotion as she flung herself into Lyraeth’s arms.

Lyraeth knelt, her arms open, steadying Elara as she clung to her. She murmured, her voice wavering, “I promised to keep you safe, didn’t I?”

Elara held her tighter, her small hands clutching Lyraeth’s shoulders. “I saw you—so pale, so still. I thought—I thought you were gone.” Tears shimmered in her eyes, spilling over as she buried her face against Lyraeth. “I’ve missed you so much. I won’t run off anymore like that—I swear.”

Lyraeth’s arms tightened around Elara, pressing her close as she closed her eyes. “I missed you too, dear.” Her voice cracked, and she pressed her cheek to Elara’s hair, her heart swelling with both relief and love.

The king looked on, his expression a mixture of pride and quiet sorrow, touched by the bond between the two. Edric watched as well, his gaze softened, moved by the way Lyraeth held Elara with such fierce, protective love—a bond forged in blood and sacrifice.

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***