"Rafe… Ayden…"
The two men, in the midst of lifting canteens and leather flasks, looked up at the call. Anna stood before them, guilt written plainly across her face.
"Yes, my lady?" The assistant healer answered.
"I'm sorry…" she said quietly.
"For what?" he asked.
"For what happened earlier. I raised my voice at you. I didn't mean to," she admitted, a knot of regret settling in her chest.
Rafe looked at the princess with measured care, considering her words.
"You deliberately threatened to report it to the commander, didn't you?"
The princess bit her lower lip.
"I had no ill intent," she said quickly. "I only wanted them to reconcile."
Ayden smiled. "Apology accepted. Honestly, we were more surprised than offended."
"Yes," the healer added with a chuckle. "Watching those two back down—and the handshake—was something I never thought I'd see."
She blinked. "Isn't it common for knights to shake hands after reconciling? In Ardel, it is."
"It is," Rafe agreed. "Just not between Sir Brooks and Sir Navin. They're oil and water. If they're touching, it's usually mid-brawl."
Ayden sighed. "Sir Navin's temper hasn't helped. It's been months, and he hasn't had the chance to see his newborn."
"His newborn?" Anna echoed, surprised.
"His second son," he explained. "The child was born after we were dispatched. Being kept from his family at a time like this has been weighing on him."
Her expression softened. "That must be difficult."
"Not just for him," the assistant healer added. "For all of us as well. Months away from home, from family… and without rest."
The words settled heavily in Anna's chest.
Guarding the border was no easy task—constant danger, harsh conditions, and unrelenting vigilance wore a person down.
Exhaustion and sacrifice were inevitable, and emotions kept too tightly restrained were bound to surface as anger.
They could hardly be blamed. After all, they were only human.
"When will the campaign end?" she asked.
"The slave auction season in Tarnova has passed," Ayden replied. "Once the interval is announced, we'll likely rotate out."
"So the campaign is tied to the auctions?" she asked further.
"Yes," Rafe answered. "Crime spikes along the border during that season. The market draws outlaws like flies."
"Dracor relies on slave labour for agriculture," the princess murmured. "The auctions prepare them for harvest and autumn sowing."
Ayden nodded. "You know the region well."
"They border Ardel and their trade affects us too."
"That's why the knighthoods rotate frontier duty," the healer said. "Though since Sir Brooks's case, we've been sent here one term after another."
"I heard," the princess said. "Sir Navin told me… along with my escort's case."
Ayden pulled a sour face. "He's always been trouble—fights, gambling, women… You name it. And he extorts people whenever he learns their secrets. Even a few Doras [1]get old very fast."
"Ayden," Rafe called up, giving a sharp, warning glance.
Realising his slip, the assistant bowed his head. "Forgive me, my lady. I spoke out of turn."
"It's all right," Anna said gently.
The healer tilted his head and turned to the princess. "Do you intend to change your escort?"
She shook her head. "No. I already have more than I deserve. It wouldn't be right to ask for more."
"You are the commander's wife," he said. "You're entitled to speak your wishes."
"For someone with nothing, I am content," she replied softly.
Ayden smiled. "Don't say that. You have the commander… and us."
"I know," she said warmly. "Thank you for accepting me."
Rafe returned her smile. "You've changed a great deal since we first met. I'm glad we get to know you."
"Me too," Anna replied softly. "Life has a way of turning itself around, doesn't it? One day you're struggling to survive… and the next, you find yourself somewhere you never imagined."
Both men nodded, agreeing. A quiet calm settled over them. For a brief moment, she breathed, letting the thought pass.
Then something else occurred in her mind. She hesitated before speaking again.
"If you don't mind… could you treat Sir Brooks's injury?"
"That's our duty," Rafe replied. "Have him come in."
She paused, reconsidering. "On second thought… could you give me the medicine and a clean cloth? I don't think he would come."
Ayden blinked. "You'll treat him yourself?"
"If it's simple," she said.
Rafe nodded. "Of course."
***
When Noah noticed Anna moving towards the infirmary with the healer and his assistant, he rose at once to follow, but halted when she raised her hand.
"Stay here."
He obeyed. The distance was short, and she remained within his line of sight. Moments later, she returned with a small bottle and a clean cloth.
"Let's go there," she said, tipping her chin toward the tree.
Noah followed without protest. When they reached it, she gestured to the empty spot beside her. "Sit."
He paused, gazing at her with an intent look, as though weighing her purpose. From the first day he had escorted her, she had never shown him any particular interest.
Today marked a difference.
"Come on. I don't bite," she urged, her tone unexpectedly friendly.
After a brief hesitation, he finally lowered himself to sit, though at a noticeable distance.
Anna edged closer, but the knight immediately shifted away.
"My lady, it's improper for you to sit so near to me," he reminded her stiffly.
"Don't give me that excuse," she replied. "If you're that far from me, how am I supposed to tend to your wound?"
The knight lifted a brow. Such behaviour was wholly unfitting for a lady of her status.
"You shouldn't," he said flatly. "It's not permitted."
"Says who?" she challenged, fixing him with a firm look. "Aren't you my escort? I see no reason why I can't attend to the knight serving me."
Silence fell.
"Perhaps I should call Sir Navin—"
"Fine," he cut in immediately.
Anna smirked as she noticed the tension flitting across his face. She moved closer and asked for his waterskin, dampening the cloth before wiping the dried blood.
He flinched—not from pain, but from her behaviour, the unfamiliar tenderness unsettling him.
"I told Sir Navin to leave you be," she said softly as she carefully cleaned the wound. "He agreed. From now on, no one will trouble you again."
"I don't need someone to stand up for me," he muttered.
"You're my person," she replied.
That made him still.
Anna carefully applied the medicine to Noah's busted lips. "This medicine is safe for consumption. You won't be affected if it's swallowed."
"Why do you keep saying that?" he asked.
"Saying what?" she replied, genuinely puzzled.
"That… 'my person'." His voice faltered. "You barely know me."
"Because you are my knight and entrusted with me," she replied calmly. "You are important, and I must care for you."
"That's not how it's supposed to be," he said. "I'm your escort—the one meant to protect you."
She smiled faintly.
"And how are you supposed to protect me if you're injured, dear sir?" she asked, teasing.
He had no answer. She always seemed to know exactly where to press him.
Having finished tending to his split lip, Anna asked, "Is there any other wound?"
He shook his head.
The princess studied him quietly—the stern face, the unsmiling lips, the unfriendly air, and those deep-set eyes that seemed to carry too many unspoken stories.
It stirred a familiar ache in her chest.
"You're so much like her…" she murmured.
"Who?"
Anna turned her gaze toward the open space beyond the camp.
"A friend," she said softly. "She had trouble with her comrades, too. They never got along, and I always had to step in whenever a commotion arose."
"Comrades?" Noah frowned. "Was she a soldier?"
The term was rarely used outside the army or in armed units such as mercenaries.
"A knightess."
He nodded once.
"A knightess is rare," he said. "She must have been exceptional."
"She was," Anna replied, a small smile touching her lips. "So exceptional that jealousy followed her everywhere. They couldn't surpass her talent, so instead they nitpicked, provoked her, and painted her as the problem."
"You said… 'was'?"
"She died," she answered quietly. "Not long ago."
"Oh."
He didn't press further. The way her gaze lowered told him there was grief left unspoken. Loss was never something one moved past so easily.
Yet, to his surprise, Anna kept smiling.
"When I think about it again… she was just as stubborn as you are," she said, a hint of warmth returning to her voice, "and she even carried the same unyielding look in her eyes. It feels like having her back."
Noah frowned. "No, I'm not!"
She laughed softly. "You refused to shake hands, didn't you?"
"That was different."
She looked at his flustered expression and said gently, "I know what happened. Sir Navin told me."
He looked away. It hardly surprised him that the shadows of his past had reached her by now. He had always been a convenient subject for whispered slander and ill-spoken tales.
"You're not afraid?" he suddenly asked, solemn.
"No."
"Why?"
"Because Kyren trusts you," she replied. "And because… I know how a predator looks at a woman. You never have."
Noah swallowed. Her response was straightforward, almost detached, but it hit him with surprising impact.
For the first time, he found himself seeing her differently—not as the commander's wife or a delicate lady under his watch, but as someone insightful, quietly determined, and genuinely sincere.
There was something about her that set her apart. Something rare.
"…Thank you," he said at last.
Anna smiled in response, the breeze lifting her auburn strands as sunlight filtered through the leaves above.
For once, the summer air felt gentle rather than oppressive, carrying a calm that neither of them had known for a long while.
[1] Doras is a currency used in the continent.