As she reached the upper landing of the staircase, Astria sensed a familiar rhythm amidst the rustle of her silken gown.
The footsteps were small, yet they carried a distinct stubbornness and persistence.
She didn't turn back, but a faint, knowing ripple softened her expression.
As if she had expected all along that she wasn't walking alone.
She deliberately slackened her pace.
The rhythmic click of her sandals slowed, creating a deliberate hollow in the vast corridor's silence.
The moment Len felt the gap closing, he shed his stillness.
His small feet blurred against the marble as he broke into a quick, light run.
Within a heartbeat, he surged forward, coming to a halt precisely at her side.
Now, they moved in unison.
Astria's long, starlit gown swayed beside Len's small frame.
His short strides working twice as hard to match her sweeping pace.
The morning light streaming through the arched windows draped them both in a shared glow.
Len didn't look up; he kept his gaze fixed ahead, walking shoulder-to-shoulder with her.
As if to declare that no matter who his teacher was, his true place would always be here, within her shadow.
As the curve of the grand staircase leveled into the cold stillness of the upper corridor.
The rhythmic strike of Astria's sandals and Len's boots echoed in perfect synchrony.
Astria maintained her regal stride, yet the corners of her eyes constantly traced the small shadow moving persistently beside her.
When they reached the center of the long hallway, Astria broke the silence without breaking her pace.
Her voice was low but resonated clearly against the stone walls.
"I thought perhaps you would stay with Ethos today," she remarked.
Her gaze fixed straight ahead as if speaking to the very air.
"He was waiting for you."
Len didn't turn his head, but a slight tension tightened his shoulders.
He was so focused on matching her every stride that he took a deliberate heartbeat before responding.
The atmosphere grew heavy with the weight of that single observation.
The light from the chandeliers above draped them in a golden glow.
Yet the deepening shadows of the corridor seemed to watch them.
Carrying the lingering presence of Ethos from the hall below.
Astria did not lower her gaze to meet his, but her continued silence demanded to know why Len had traded a master's wisdom for the simple act of following her.
Len paused for a heartbeat, as if weighing the emotions that were too large for his small frame.
He lifted his gaze from the marble floor and looked toward Astria, who remained fixed on the path ahead.
"Because I like you," Len said with a raw, piercing simplicity.
There was no hesitation, no artifice—only the transparent honesty of a child's heart.
The moment the words left his lips, he resumed his stride.
His feet moving quickly to catch up with her sweeping pace.
The chill of the corridor seemed to evaporate, replaced by a sudden, stifling warmth.
Astria kept her eyes locked on the distant wall, but the tips of her ears flushed a deep, undeniable crimson.
Her regal composure was now strained by something far more profound than authority.
She didn't slacken her pace, but her voice carried a tremor of a question she couldn't suppress.
"Will you... will you like just anyone?" she asked, her words cutting through the hallowed silence.
"Will you follow just anyone like this?"
Len didn't hesitate for a single second.
"No," he replied firmly, his voice ringing with a loyalty that far outweighed his years.
"I won't like just anyone."
Astria's fingers tightened slightly against the fabric of her gown.
Len's simple "No" felt weightier than any formal vow.
*L
The light of the corridor no longer just illuminated their path.
It shone upon the unspoken bond between them.
Where Len had made it clear that his devotion wasn't a habit—it was a choice reserved for her alone.
After traversing the length of the corridor, they finally arrived at the towering threshold of Astria's private chambers.
The two guards stationed there, as rigid and unmoving as their iron shields.
Bowed in perfect, silent synchrony the moment they saw the Queen.
Their eyes were vacant of emotion, filled only with the cold discipline of their station.
Without uttering a word, Astria adjusted the shimmering folds of her enchanted gown.
And pushed the heavy, intricately carved doors open herself.
She stepped into the fragrant, golden sanctuary of her chambers, disappearing without a single backward glance.
But Len lingered at the threshold for a heartbeat.
Before crossing over, he turned slowly toward the two stoic guards.
There was no fear in his gaze; instead, a bright, mischievous, and purely innocent smile bloomed across his face.
It was a smile so warm and genuine that it seemed to melt the very chill of the stone corridor.
The guards, accustomed to standing as still as monuments, were momentarily paralyzed by the sight of him.
As Len slipped inside and the heavy doors groaned shut, the two men shifted their gazes toward each other in stunned disbelief.
Their masks of discipline had crumbled.
Leaving them wondering how such a vibrant spark of joy could exist within the shadowed walls of this royal fortress.
The moment Len crossed into the chamber, he reached back with his small hands to catch the heavy doors.
He eased them shut with deliberate care, as if locking the rigid outside world away.
As the faint click of the latch echoed, a visible wave of relief washed over him.
By then, Astria had reached the edge of her massive, plush royal bed.
With a graceful motion, she retrieved an ancient, intricately bound book from a nearby shelf.
Len didn't waste a single heartbeat.
With the nimble energy of a young fawn, he lunged toward the oversized, cushioned royal sofa.
He flopped onto it stomach-first, his feet kicking idly in the air.
In one swift motion, he flung his own book open and held it up with both hands.
Completely shielding his face behind the yellowed pages.
From across the room, only the spread of the open book was visible on the sofa.
With Len entirely vanished behind his paper fortress.
He seemed intent on drowning himself in another world.
Or perhaps, he was simply hiding the lingering flush on his cheeks from Astria's discerning gaze.
The only sound in the sanctuary now was the rhythmic rustle of turning pages.
A comfortable silence that only exists between two souls who truly belong in each other's presence.
Astria remained seated on the edge of her regal bed.
The folds of her enchanted blue gown spilling across the mattress like a fallen sky.
She didn't open her book; instead, her gaze remained anchored to the 'paper fortress' on the sofa behind which Len had vanished.
The flickering candlelight cast a mysterious glow within the depths of her golden eyes.
"Len," Astria's voice was as soft as silk, yet it carried the weight of a lingering inquiry.
Behind the book, there was no movement, but the rhythmic rustle of pages abruptly ceased.
"Do you truly understand..." Astria asked after a deliberate pause.
"...what it actually means to 'like' someone?"
Len's fingers tightened slightly against the edges of the book covers.
The silence in the chamber deepened, becoming heavy with anticipation.
Astria watched him, seeking to discover how a boy—who had only seen the world through books and palace walls—interpreted an emotion that even the wisest scholars struggled to define.
She tilted her head slightly, waiting for a response that would likely rewrite the very definition of their bond.
The echo of Astria's question hadn't even faded before the sofa stirred with life.
The book, which had served as Len's shield until now, slowly lowered.
Len peeled his gaze away from the ink and paper, lifting his face toward her.
A smile bloomed across his features—vibrant, unshielded, and as fresh as the first light of dawn.
He locked his bright eyes directly onto Astria's, refusing to look away.
"Just... I like you," Len said.
As if it were the simplest and most absolute truth in existence.
There was no logic in his tone, no tangled reasoning—only a pure confession.
Astria, sitting with all her royal poise on the edge of the bed.
Felt her lashes flutter ever so slightly at the sheer simplicity of his words.
She steadied herself, keeping her voice low as she probed again.
"But... why do you like me, Len?"
Len tilted his head, weighing the depth of her question.
He shifted on the sofa, pushing himself into a seated position.
"I know what it means to like someone," he said calmly.
"It doesn't mean I need a reason. It just means that when you're around, everything feels right."