Episode 5: “One Bed, One Tent, One Very Bad Idea”

Scene: En route to the Southern Border, late afternoon

The diplomatic mission was supposed to be uneventful. A little paperwork, a few ceremonial handshakes, and no magical catastrophes. Easy.

So naturally, the gods decided to spice things up.

A sudden storm rolled in, ripping their air carriage off-course and dumping Riven and Liora into the middle of nowhere—with one tent. One bedroll. And a locator spell that needed 24 hours to recharge.

Riven, ever the military man, had the tent up in minutes. The tension? Already sky-high.

Liora, brushing wet curls out of her face: “Tell me there’s more than one bedroll.”

Riven, bone-dry under a weather charm: “Nope.”

She stared. “You planned this.”

“I don’t plan disaster. It just follows you.”

She stepped into the tent—only to find the bedroll already unrolled in the center. Enchanted to expand just enough for exactly two people.

“Well,” she muttered. “That’s horrifying.”

Riven tossed her a towel. “You’re welcome to sleep outside.”

“And let a storm hag possess me? Hard pass.”

---

Scene: Midnight – Inside the Tent of Tension

Rain pelted the canvas. The bedroll glowed with cozy warmth. Liora and Riven lay back-to-back, inches apart, not touching. Barely breathing.

“So,” she said into the dark. “Any war stories?”

“No.”

“You’re terrible at small talk.”

“You’re better at loud exits.”

She snorted. “We should’ve sent Vaela. She probably sleeps standing up like a cursed statue.”

“She sleeps in full armor.”

“… Seriously?”

Pause.

“…Liora?”

“What?”

“I would’ve dueled Theron even if you hadn’t looked smug about it.”

Silence.

“…Why?”

“Because I hate him.”

“Try again.”

“Because I don’t like the idea of someone else… marrying you.”

Boom.

There it was. The confession that echoed louder than the thunder.

Liora rolled over, facing him. Their noses were dangerously close.

“Fake fiancés aren’t supposed to get territorial,” she whispered.

“Fake feelings don’t last this long,” he replied.

And just like that, the space between them crackled.

---

Scene: The Spell Awakens

Suddenly, a burst of pink mist filled the tent.

Liora shrieked. “What is that?!”

Riven read the glowing runes floating above their heads.

“… ‘Emergency romance ward activated.’”

She blinked. “You’re kidding.”

“Nope. This tent has a built-in true bond enchantment.”

“WHY.”

“It’s a royal tent. Meant for honeymoons.”

“Oh my gods.”

A glowing script began to write itself in the air:

“To deactivate the ward, one of the following must occur:

A kiss with sincere romantic intent.

A heartfelt confession of love.

An emotional vulnerability strong enough to shatter a defensive enchantment.”

Liora: “We are not doing any of those.”

Riven: “Then we’re trapped.”

Pause.

Liora sighed dramatically. “Fine. I’ll go first. I hate being alone. I talk too much because I’m scared people will forget I exist.”

Riven blinked.

“I sabotage good things because I assume they’ll leave me anyway,” she added, voice barely a whisper. “There. Vulnerable enough for you?”

The glowing mist flickered—but didn’t vanish.

“… Damn it,” she muttered.

Riven turned to face her fully. “My turn.”

She looked up.

“I think about you more than I should,” he said softly. “In meetings. On patrol. In the middle of sword drills.”

Her breath caught.

“You’re reckless, and vain, and loud, and smarter than anyone gives you credit for,” he continued. “And sometimes I want to kiss you just to shut you up.”

Her pulse exploded.

Then—BOOM. The mist popped like a soap bubble. The glow dimmed. The ward vanished.

“…Well,” she whispered.

“Guess that was romantic enough.”

Liora stared at him. “So, which part did it?”

“The compliment?”

“The vulnerability?”

“The emotional tension?”

“…Or the kiss we’re both very obviously thinking about?”

They stared. Silence. Heartbeats thundering.

Finally, Liora whispered, “If you kiss me now, it’s not fake anymore.”

“I know.”