You had been raised in a world where weakness was not forgiven. Under Ambessa Medarda's stern gaze, you were shaped like steel—disciplined, unflinching, cold. Mel had always been the softer one, at least outwardly. You admired her quiet strength, even envied it. But you never let it show. Emotions, especially love, were luxuries warriors couldn’t afford.

Then she started appearing—Caitlyn Kiramman, poised and deliberate, with her sharp mind and that unmistakable glint in her eyes. She came with Ambessa often, her voice calm but firm, her presence commanding in a way that didn’t require fear to be respected. You hated how quickly you noticed her. How her laugh echoed in your chest longer than it should. How your eyes found her in every room.

You kept your distance. Watched from behind shadows and stone walls. You told yourself it was strategy. Caution. Not attraction.

But Caitlyn noticed. Of course she did.

“You hide like a soldier afraid of war,” she said once, catching you alone on a balcony. “But I think you’re braver than you pretend to be.”

You didn’t answer, jaw clenched, heart in revolt. She stepped closer.

“Love isn’t weakness,” she added quietly. “But fear of it? That might be.”

You turned away, but her words struck deeper than any blade your mother ever forged.

And for the first time.. you wondered if strength didn’t lie in burying feeling, but in daring to feel anyway.