Alya sprinted like her life depended on it because as far as she was concerned, it did.
She wove through twisting lanes, dodging carts and startled pedestrians, desperate to put as much distance as possible between herself and the others before anyone noticed she was gone.
Finally, lungs burning, she stumbled to a halt in a quieter alley, staggering back against a cool stone wall.
She bent forward, hands on her knees, gulping air in ragged bursts.
"Geez… this place has way too many corners," she muttered between breaths, wiping sweat from her brow. "It's like the whole realm is designed to get people lost."
She straightened slowly, still panting, and started walking aimlessly.
"No way am I marrying some random guy I've never even met," she grumbled under her breath. "All for some shady conspiracy? Please. Who even knows what kind of person this Lord Alistair really is? He's a ruler, right? So he's probably like my father's age, or at least as old as Uncle Halwin. What kind of weird crush did this body have? Was she after power? Status? Or just… bad taste in older men?"
She shuddered dramatically at the mental image, hugging her arms around herself as she stepped back into the flow of the main street.
The market noise crashed over her again, vendors shouting, fabrics snapping in the breeze, the clink of coins and the sizzle of street food.
"Come try the perfect hairpin for a lady as lovely as you!"
"Finest porcelain wares, straight from the kilns!"
"Fortunes told true! One coin and I reveal your destiny!"
A burly man in a black vest suddenly darted into her path, blocking her way with an eager grin. "Miss! You're stunning, truly perfect. Come to our shop just there! We'll craft a gown that makes every eye follow you."
Alya froze for half a second, startled, then managed an awkward, polite smile. "Thank you, really, but… I'm not interested."
She sidestepped him quickly and kept walking.
The man watched her retreating back, head tilting. "Huh. Isn't she wearing Star Haven white?" he muttered to himself.
Then he shrugged, already scanning the crowd for the next customer.
Alya kept moving through the crowded main thoroughfare, weaving between vendors and passersby until she spotted a narrower side street branching left.
She slipped down it without hesitation and the noise of the market faded almost immediately.
Here the lane was quieter, lined with modest houses, a few people strolling unhurriedly, the air cooler and still.
She scanned the surroundings, pulse still racing from her escape.
Then she saw a large wooden building ahead, its wide eaves carved with subtle patterns.
A sign above the double doors read Relaxation in elegant, flowing script.
'Perfect,' she thought, relief washing through her. 'A place to catch my breath, hide out, and figure out my next move before anyone comes looking.'
She hurried forward too quickly and her foot snagged on a jutting cobblestone.
With a startled yelp, she pitched forward, arms windmilling uselessly as gravity yanked her down.
At that precise instant, the doors of the Relaxation building swung open.
A tall figure in a dark, hooded cloak stepped out, hood pulled low enough to shadow his face.
He was looking back over his shoulder, distracted, until he turned forward.
His eyes widened a fraction of a second before Alya crashed straight into him.
The impact sent them both tumbling.
He hit the ground hard on his back with a sharp grunt while she landed squarely on top of him, palms braced against his broad shoulders.
"Ahhh!" Alya yelped again, more from shock than pain.
The man beneath her let out a low, pained groan. His frown was immediate and deep as he looked down at the girl sprawled across his chest.
Alya blinked up at him, dazed but suddenly grateful she hadn't face-planted into stone. "Wow… I almost ate dirt just now. Thanks for the catch."
His frown darkened. "Get. Off," he growled through clenched teeth, voice low and rough, edged with irritation.
Alya scrambled upright in an instant, cheeks heating. "Right… sorry!"
She watched as he pushed himself up with a wince, one hand instinctively clutching his right arm.
He rose slowly, clearly favoring the limb, then fixed her with a steady, assessing stare.
She was dressed head-to-toe in Star Haven white. He noticed.
"Who are you?" he asked, tone clipped.
Alya hesitated only a heartbeat before answering, tilting her head to try and catch a glimpse beneath the hood.
"A-li-ya," she said slowly, emphasizing each syllable like she was testing the name herself. "My name is Alya."
"Alya," he echoed thoughtfully.
She nodded.
He studied her in silence for several long seconds, gaze unreadable in the shadow of his hood.
"And what exactly are you doing here, Alya?"
She let out a short, incredulous scoff, gesturing toward the sign above the door. "To relax? It literally says Relaxation right there."
The man glanced back at the Relaxation building, then returned his gaze to Alya.
He didn't look convinced.
Without a word, he lifted one hand and pointed a single finger toward her forehead.
A sharp, fiery diamond-shaped mark flared to life on her skin, glowing like molten ember. Alya's body locked rigid, spine straight, arms pinned to her sides, eyes wide and unblinking.
"Why are you here?" he asked again.
"To escape," she answered instantly, words spilling out flat and mechanical.
"Escape from what?"
"From getting married."
"Why… don't you want to marry?"
"I don't want to be dragged into any conspiracy. I just want a quiet, simple life for myself."
"What conspiracy?" His tone sharpened with sudden interest. "What does your uncle hope to gain from this marriage?"
"A core," she replied without hesitation. "Something called the… Primordial Advancement Core."
The man flicked his wrist and the fiery mark vanished as quickly as it had appeared.
Alya sucked in a huge, shuddering breath, like she'd been underwater for minutes and she blinked rapidly, shaking her head as awareness flooded back.
Her eyes snapped up to him, wide with confusion and dawning outrage.
"Why the hell did I just tell you all of that?!"
He looked away, shoulders lifting in the faintest shrug. "Probably because I'm… easy to talk to." A beat. "Anyway. Follow me."
Alya let out a short, incredulous scoff. "Follow you? Are you serious? You're dressed like you're about to rob someone in an alley at midnight."
He glanced down at his dark cloak, then back at her. "I'm actually quite well-known around here, so…"
"Ohhh," Alya said, eyes lighting up despite herself. "So you're, like… a celebrity?"
"Cele…brity?" he repeated slowly, the word clearly unfamiliar.
She nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah! People everyone knows and admires. Famous."
He gave a slow, thoughtful nod. "Ah. I see." Then, without further preamble: "You're coming with me."
Alya's eyes widened as his hand closed around her wrist, firm, but not bruising
She immediately realized something. "Oh no. Wait, hold on! You're not taking me back to my uncle, are you? You know him, don't you?"
Before she could pull away, he swept his free hand in a quick arc.
They both disappeared and appeared inside a vast chamber bathed in deep crimson light.
Polished red stone walls rose high overhead, with heavy drapes of black and scarlet framed tall arched windows that overlooked nothing but swirling mist.
Then a sharp, yellow spark flared between their palms like static electricity amplified a hundredfold.
The man jerked his hand away instantly.
Alya stumbled back a step, arms wrapping tight around herself as a strange, electric shiver raced through her entire body. Something warm and swift had moved inside her chest, leaving her breathless and unsettled.
"What the hell was that?!" she demanded, staring at him like he'd personally offended her. "Who are you? And where am I?!"
The man flexed the hand he'd just released, staring at his own palm with a faint frown, clearly as puzzled as she was.
"Hey! I'm talking to you!" Alya snapped, voice rising.
Before he could answer, the massive double doors at the far end of the chamber burst open.
A warrior in black armor strode in, then immediately dropped to one knee, head bowed low.
"Lord Alistair," he said urgently. "I've just received word: Princess Alya has escaped from her escort."
Alya's eyes slowly widened to saucers.
"Oh… no."