the bargain/the hunt

[Kaelith]

For a heartbeat, the whole throne hall stills.

The crown prince’s shoulders rise slightly, then drop — the only sign of his tightly-held breath. His eyes flicker from her lips to her eyes, then back again, as if trying to decide if she’s serious or mocking him.

A low chuckle from one of the generals breaks the silence.

“She dares bargain with His Highness…”

Kaelith’s gaze snaps toward the man and the chuckle dies instantly. He turns back to her, voice low but clear enough for the court to hear:

“If you want to follow me, you’ll do so at your own risk. My hunts aren’t for courtly games.”

A pause. The faintest hint of a smirk ghosts across his mouth, gone as quickly as it appears.

“But… a wager?”

He steps closer until he’s just inside the circle of her perfume, his shadow falling over her again.

“If you win, I’ll grant you one wish. Anything within my power.”

Another heartbeat of silence.

“But if you lose…” His tone drops to a velvet threat. “…you’ll obey one command from me without question. Agreed?”

The court murmurs again, some in shock, some in delight at the drama.

[Queen Selene]

“You’re indulging her, Kaelith.”

[Kaelith]

Without looking at his mother, he tilts his head at Seraphina.

“Do you dare agree, little princess?”

Bows elegantly well then I'll take up on your words then. Your highness

[Kaelith]

The marble floor seems to echo her words. Kaelith watches her bow, the edge of his jaw tightening, a faint line appearing between his brows. For a second, something flickers through his ice-blue eyes — not irritation this time, but a hint of curiosity.

He inclines his head, only slightly, in acknowledgment. His voice carries easily through the hall:

“Then it’s settled.”

He steps back, turning on his heel with the precision of a soldier.

“Tomorrow. Dawn. The North Gate. Don’t be late.”

He doesn’t wait for the queen or the court to speak. His long black cape swirls behind him as he strides out of the hall, leaving whispers in his wake.

[Queen Selene]

Her fan snaps open again with a slow hiss of silk.

“Bold, indeed…” she murmurs, but her sharp eyes follow Kael as if measuring the change in his composure.

[Court Nobles]

“She actually accepted…”

“This will end in disaster.”

“Or in scandal.”

The hall slowly disperses, but the eyes following Seraphina now hold something different — wariness. Anticipation.

Outside the hall, in a quieter corridor, Kaelith stops at a tall window, looking out over the snowy gardens. His gloved hand rests lightly on the hilt of his sword.

“…She’s not the same.” he mutters to himself, a cloud of frost leaving his lips. “What are you playing at, Seraphina?”

...The hunt ...

🌲 Dawn – The Northern Hunting Grounds

The sky is pale gold, the frost still clinging to the grass. Mounted guards and nobles gather near the North Gate of the palace. The hunting grounds stretch into a vast enchanted forest, known for its dangerous beasts and magical creatures.

[Kaelith]

He sits astride a black warhorse, tall and rigid in his dark riding leathers, a gleaming spear strapped to his back. His aura is sharp, cold, and commanding — a prince among soldiers, not courtiers.

When Seraphina approaches, Kael’s gaze flicks over her attire, lingering just long enough to assess her.

“…You came.”

The faintest lift of his brow, like he half expected her to back out.

“I hope you’re not planning to ride in silk shoes.”

[General Veyric, one of Kael’s commanders]

He lets out a low chuckle, voice full of derision.

“Your Highness, shall we give the princess a lap around the stables instead? The beasts in those woods won’t bow to pretty smiles.”

The nobles gathered snicker quietly.

[Kaelith]

He doesn’t laugh. His icy gaze pins the general in place, shutting the man up instantly. Then, turning back to Seraphina, his voice softens a fraction — still cold, but sharpened with challenge.

“If you’re here, you ride with me.”

His horse shifts under him, hooves striking the earth.

“But remember our wager, little princess. Wish or command. There will be no mercy.”

The horns sound, signaling the start of the hunt. Riders spur forward into the misty forest. The air is alive with tension, the sound of hounds baying and hooves pounding echoing through the trees.

Kael rides ahead, his cloak streaming like a shadow behind him. For a moment, he glances over his shoulder at her — a flicker of curiosity behind his ice.

A soft chuckle at the commander as she subtly used her magic testing it well at least you do bow to pretty things don't you commander 😽😊😊😉

[General Veyric]

The grizzled commander, known for barking down men twice his size, suddenly falters. His laugh dies on his lips, his back stiffening under her gaze. For a moment, his weathered face colors — actually colors — as though her words carried more weight than simple teasing.

He clears his throat, looking away sharply.

“Tch… as Your Highness commands,” he mutters, but his tone is strangely subdued.

A ripple of surprise goes through the gathered hunters. Nobles whisper in disbelief.

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