After the ceremony, Thena was utterly exhausted.

  She was led to one of the guest rooms and barely had time to lie down before sleep claimed her. When she finally woke, soft light filtered through the curtains, and the dull ache in her body reminded her of everything that had happened.

  Frow was waiting.

  “The King has invited us to share a meal at the castle,” she said gently. “The food is still being prepared, so we have some time.”

  Rather than return to bed, Thena agreed to walk around. An assistant was assigned to them, guiding Thena through the halls while Frow stayed close by her side. The castle was vast—high ceilings, stone corridors warmed by sunlight, banners fluttering softly with every passing breeze.

  “And here,” the assistant said, gesturing outward, “is the training ground for the soldiers.”

  They stepped into an open courtyard. The sharp sounds of clashing weapons filled the air.

  There, in the center of it all, was Nara.

  “Hahaha! Come on!” Nara shouted, standing tall as the soldier before them struggled to keep his footing. “You can do better than that! Is that all you’ve got?!”

  With one swift move, the soldier was knocked flat onto his back.

  Nara laughed again, loud and unrestrained.

  Thena blinked, then let out a small breath of disbelief.

  “And here I was wondering where you went,” she muttered to herself.

  “They never know how to tone it down,” Frow said quietly, watching the scene with a mix of fondness and pity. “Poor man.”

  They stayed back, observing from a distance as another soldier hesitantly stepped forward—only to be swiftly overwhelmed as well.

  Just as Nara was about to offer another teasing remark, their eyes flicked toward the edge of the courtyard.

  They froze.

  “…Oh.”

  Nara straightened, a grin slowly spreading across their face as they spotted Thena and Frow.

  “Well, well,” Nara called out, wiping sweat from their brow. “Looks like I’ve got an audience.”

  Their gaze lingered on Thena a moment longer than necessary.

  “You’re awake already?”

  Nara dismissed the soldiers with a lazy wave. “That’s enough for today. Go—before you embarrass yourselves any further.”

  The soldiers didn’t need to be told twice. They scattered quickly, some groaning, others laughing in relief.

  Nara turned fully toward Thena, their expression softening just a little.

  “You look like you went through a storm,” they said, stepping closer. “Ceremony didn’t go easy on you, huh?”

  Thena huffed quietly. “That’s one way to put it.”

  Frow glanced between them. “You seem energetic for someone who was supposed to be resting.”

  Nara shrugged. “Rest is boring. Besides—” they tilted their head, eyes gleaming, “I fight better than I sleep.”

  Thena watched them for a moment longer than she meant to. There was something strangely reassuring about seeing Nara so… alive. Unburdened. Like the weight of the world hadn’t touched them yet.

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  The assistant cleared their throat politely.

  “If I may—His Majesty will be expecting you shortly.”

  Nara snapped their fingers. “Ah. Food.” They grinned. “Now that I won’t miss.”

  As they began walking back through the castle halls, Nara leaned closer to Thena and lowered their voice.

  “Stick close during the meal,” they said lightly. “Royal dinners can be more dangerous than sparring matches.”

  Thena blinked. “Dangerous?”

  Nara laughed—but there was something knowing in it.

  “You’ll see.”

  They took a few more steps before Nara glanced her over, eyes lingering briefly on her travel-worn clothes.

  “Oh—before that,” they added casually, waving a hand. “You’ll want to change. Nothing too stiff. Comfortable, but presentable.”

  Their grin turned sly. “The kind of outfit that says I belong here without trying too hard.”

  Frow nodded in quiet agreement. “There are spare garments prepared. They should suit you.”

  Frow watched them from just behind, eyes thoughtful.

  Whatever awaited them at that table, it was clear—this gathering would be more than just a meal.

  The dining hall was already alive with quiet conversation when Thena entered.

  Warm golden light spilled from crystal chandeliers above, reflecting off polished stone and long banquet tables dressed in white and gold. Nobles from various houses stood in small circles, their voices low, eyes sharp with curiosity.

  At the head of the room, the King rose.

  “Ladies and gentlemen,” he announced, his voice calm yet commanding, “allow me to introduce the one you have all come to see.”

  His gaze softened as it settled on her.

  “Thena—chosen by the forest, bearer of ancient magic, and one whose presence marks the return of hope long thought lost.”

  A ripple passed through the room.

  Some bowed immediately. Others studied her more carefully.

  “These are newly arrived noblemen,” the King continued, gesturing toward a small group stepping forward. “They wished to meet you personally.”

  One of them—a tall man draped in fine silks, his smile thin and practiced—inclined his head.

  “So this is her,” he said lightly. “Forgive my bluntness, but she seems rather… young.”

  Another noble chimed in. “Power is one thing, Your Majesty, but responsibility is another. Can someone so inexperienced truly carry such a burden?”

  The air tightened.

  Thena felt it—eyes weighing her worth, measuring her value like coin.

  Before she could speak, the Prince stepped forward, expression cool.

  “Age has never determined destiny.”

  One of the three noblemen who had stood by her before nodded firmly.

  “Nor has doubt ever stopped the forest from choosing.”

  Still, the silk-clad noble smiled. “Of course. I only worry for the kingdom. Hope can be… fragile.”

  Thena lifted her chin.

  “If you fear fragility,” she said calmly, “then you underestimate the people who endure despite it.”

  The smile faltered—just slightly.

  Silence followed. Then the King spoke, final and firm.

  “That will be enough.”

  The meal continued, conversation shifting, tension easing—but Thena felt the weight linger.

  By the time night fell, they departed the castle.

  The city streets glowed with lantern light as they walked through the capital. Word had traveled faster than Thena expected.

  Elderly men and women stood in front of their homes and shops, waiting. When they saw her, they bowed deeply.

  “That’s her,” one old woman whispered, resting a hand on her grandchild’s head. “The one the forest chose.”

  “Remember this moment,” another elder said softly. “She carries our future.”

  Children followed their elders’ movements, bowing clumsily but earnestly, wide-eyed with awe.

  Thena stopped.

  She bowed back.

  Their faith struck deeper than any title ever could.

  When they reached the forest’s edge, Thena slowed.

  “I’d like to walk alone for a bit,” she said quietly.

  Frow studied her, then nodded. “Don’t go too far.”

  She stepped into the forest.

  The city sounds faded. Leaves rustled. Light filtered gently through towering trees.

  Her thoughts returned to the nobles’ words—too young, too fragile, too uncertain.

  What if they were right?

  She stopped beneath a great tree, fingers curling slightly at her sides.

  Then she remembered the elders’ bowed heads. The children’s hopeful eyes.

  “I can’t fail them,” she whispered.

  Her chest steadied.

  “I won’t.”

  The forest responded.

  Branches shifted. Roots curled back. A narrow path opened before her—as if the forest itself had made a decision.

  Thena hesitated only a moment before following it.

  Deeper within the woods, light shimmered softly.

  A figure stood in a small clearing, half-drowned in gold.

  A person—someone? A man? Wait… is that a horn? Thena thought as she walked closer.

  She stopped beside a tree, close enough to get a clear view. She tried to stay hidden, though awe held her still.

  He was unaware of her presence, standing quietly as a pale butterfly fluttered around his hand. The glow of the forest softened his features. He looked unreal, like something from a fairy tale.

  His beauty was singular, untouched by menace. His horn gave off no trace of malice—if anything, it made him seem even more ethereal.

  Thena froze. Her breath caught.

  The butterfly lifted, drifting gently between them.

  His gaze followed it—and landed on her.

  She stood beneath the shadow of the trees, half-hidden. Before either could move, the branches above her shifted on their own, drawing back.

  Light spilled down.

  He saw her clearly now.

  For a long moment, neither spoke.

  The forest held its breath.