Chapter 18 Chapter eighteen
~Ellie~
The wind moved lazily through the grass, bending the tall stalks into gentle waves that shimmered like water. I told myself I was just going to spend few minutes watching but I have spent roughly two hours there.
I stand at the edge of the practice field where Sylvia was still training.
The trainees has already left a long time ago.
His shirt clinging to his back, sleeves rolled up past his elbows. The air smelled faintly of sweat and soil, I stopped without meaning to. I told myself I’d only watch for a second. But my feet stayed rooted to the ground.
Sylvia was moving with that effortless sort of grace that comes from long familiarity with your own body.
Sylvia has being an army since he was fifteen, according to the tales I heard from the palace. He killed his first beast at the age of twelve. And ever since then he had lead the army into victory.
A record breaker, that what he is.
He wasn’t even looking in my direction, but still, I felt as if I’d been caught doing something wrong.
I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, my heart beating too fast. I shouldn’t have left a long time.
And then he turned.
His eyes found me easily, as if he’d known still I was still around. There was amusement in them, a glint that made my stomach tighten.
“Ellie,” he said, voice low but carrying easily across the distance. “You're still here?”
The words hit me like a soft punch, ridiculous and teasing, but somehow intimate. My mouth opened, then closed again before I could find anything remotely coherent to say.
“N-no,” I stammered, waving a hand too quickly. “ I was about leaving.”
He tilted his head, that smirk deepening. “leaving, huh?” He took a step closer, the corner of his lip curving up just enough to make my pulse skip. “Funny. You’ve been standing here for a while now.”
I felt my face grow warm. “That’s not... I mean, I just...”
He chuckled softly, wiping sweat from his brow with the back of his wrist. “you don't have to explain, if you say so, then that is it.”
"I should leave now," I muttered under my breath.
"Ellie," He stop me "don't go" his fingers brush against my arm but he quickly pulled away.
That touch.
Butterfly are dancing in my stomach.
I swallowed hard, I could feel my heart pounding against my ribs, and my cheeks were burning so badly I thought I might actually pass out.
“Okay, I wouldn't leave but you have to teach me how to use a sword." The words reluctantly left my lips.
His eyes softened, but the smile didn’t fade. “You want to learn how to fight,” he said quietly. “well, swords is not meant for you. You should be in the palace dressing pretty and sipping tea, Queen”
The way the 'queen' left his lips was so seducing as if he was deliberate about it. Whenever he smiles, his dimples deepens, that was something I have use to differentiate him from Claus over the previous years.
I laughed then, awkwardly because what else could I do? The sound came out higher than I intended, light and embarrassed. “You’re so full of yourself. You think I'm weak don't you? And I won't be able to hold a sword,” I managed, half under my breath.
Sylvia looked over his shoulder, grinning. “Maybe. Because I don't see you as the fighting type.”
That earned him another laugh, though it came with a sigh. “Are you limiting me, Sylvia”
“No, you're more than that. I can't possibly limit you,” he said simply, eyes twinkling.
For a while, I just stood there, arms crossed, trying to appear casual while every part of me was acutely aware of him, the way his hair stuck to the back of his neck, the sound of his breathing, the tiny furrow between his brows when he focused.
The silence stretched between us, filled with the soft sounds of the wind and his movements. It wasn’t uncomfortable, exactly, but it was heavy charged, somehow.
And then, like a ripple through still water, I felt the air shift.
The moment stretched, painfully long.
Finally, I cleared my throat. “so when should I start training,” I said, trying to sound brave, though my voice wavered slightly. “I need to learn one or two as soon as possible to be able to defend myself whenever I'm attack.”
Sylvia lowered the weights he’d been holding, his brow furrowing slightly. “You won't be getting attack under my watch, never.”
“I not praying for such thing to happen but,” I said quickly, forcing a smile. “we don't know what will happen in the future.”
He stepped closer, closing the distance between us until I could see the faint sheen of sweat on his collarbone, the steady rise and fall of his chest. “Ellie,” he said softly, “As long as I breathe, I will never let any harm come close to you.”
My heart skipped. He was close enough now that I could see the flecks of gold in his eyes, the way his lashes cast faint shadows across his cheeks. The world felt suddenly too quiet.
“I don't mind giving my life for you,” he added, his tone so low I almost didn’t catch it.
I laughed again, soft, breathless, not because I found it funny but because I didn’t know what else to do. My fingers fidgeted at my sides. “Your life is you own, you don't have to die because of me.”
“Maybe it is,” he said simply.
The air between us thickened. I could feel it, this slow, aching pull that I wasn’t sure either of us fully understood yet. It wasn’t the heady rush of sudden infatuation; it was quieter than that, deeper, like something quietly growing roots.
I wanted to say something, to cut the tension, to joke it away but my throat felt tight. All I could do was stand there, suspended between wanting to run and wanting to stay.
Then, mercifully or not, Claus’s voice broke through the silence.
“Ellie.”
I turned quickly. He was closer now, standing just a few steps away, his expression calm but his eyes betraying something else, something darker.