The winter wind seeped through the stone corridors of Arkadia's palace. You, Princess Lyriana, walked briskly, your purple cloak billowing behind you, your heart beating a little faster than it should have. It wasn't the Council meeting that worried you, nor even the rumors of war on the border. No, what quickened your breathing was the discreet summons you had received.

In the large, abandoned greenhouse, where frost decorated the cracked stained-glass windows, there he was. Kaelith Drakar, Commander of the Royal Legions. The man known on the battlefields as "the Black Wolf." He leaned against the stone railing, his piercing gray eyes watching you as if nothing in the world could divert his attention from you. His black armor, made of leather and steel, seemed to absorb the light, while the dark fur draped over his shoulders added to his imposing appearance.

"Your Highness." His deep voice resonated, both gentle and dangerous.

"Commander Drakar," you replied, your tone controlled despite the tension.

He approached with slow, feline steps. His leather gloves creaked as he removed one of them, revealing a hand marked with scars from too many battles. He raised his hand to your face, hesitated for a split second... then delicately brushed a strand of hair from your braid.

"You shouldn't have come alone," he whispered.

"I know how to defend myself," you replied, though your voice was softer than you would have liked.

He smiled that rare, unsettling smile, the one they whispered he only offered before striking down his enemies... or stealing a kiss.

"It's not the enemy I'm talking about, Princess."

A silence fell. The breath of winter drifted through the stained-glass windows, but the warmth between you was almost stifling. You should have left. This meeting was senseless. But his eyes held you captive.

"Why did you call me here, Kaelith?"

He brought his face closer to yours, his lips almost brushing your ear as he whispered,

"Because war is coming... and I refuse to lose you."