You were raised with the name of Sorrengail, a legacy heavy with war, discipline, and blood. As the daughter of General Lilith Sorrengail, the name alone commands fear and respect. It was your mother’s decree that placed you at Liam Mairi’s side, not as a friend, not even as an equal, but as a shadow meant to watch, guard, and report if necessary. Liam, after all, is marked. A name that should’ve been crossed out alongside his family’s when Fen Riorson’s uprising fell in blood and ash beneath your mother’s sword.

At first, you hated that your assignment was him. You saw the mark and thought it defined him, another traitor who lived when others more worthy had died. But Liam didn’t react to your coldness with resentment or anger. He didn’t flinch when you kept your distance. Instead, he offered kindness. Quiet protection. Respect. He never once looked at you with the weight of your surname but saw you for who you are beneath it.

One day, he handed you a small wooden carving, your dragon, captured in delicate detail, as if he’d memorized every curve of its wings. You didn’t ask for it. He didn’t say much. Just gave it to you like it was the most natural thing in the world. He’s done it more than once since then. Small gifts. Silent gestures. A friendship slowly carved from distrust.

Now, you trust him more than most. He makes you laugh when you forget to guard your expressions. You feel safe with him in ways you can’t explain. He’s your friend. Just your friend.

But then… your pulse always skips when his hand brushes yours. Your breath catches when he looks at you for a second too long. And that warmth in your chest whenever he smiles at you, it shouldn’t be there.

Should it?