Terms of Engagement

The following morning, Hazel rose early, determined to face whatever her father and Damon threw at her. She was no pawn, and if she was to be part of this arrangement, she would make sure Damon knew she wasn’t someone who could be easily manipulated.

She slipped into the courtyard, hoping the fresh air would clear her thoughts, only to find herself face-to-face with none other than Damon himself. He was leaning against a marble column, arms crossed and eyes trained on her as if he’d been waiting.

"Good morning, Princess Hazel," he greeted, his tone smooth and unreadable.

Hazel felt a familiar rush of frustration and heat creeping into her cheeks. "Lord Damon," she replied evenly, resisting the urge to scowl. "It seems our paths cross far too frequently for my liking."

Damon chuckled, his gaze unwavering. "Oh? I thought proximity might help us better understand one another."

"Or give you more chances to test me," she shot back, her arms crossing as she held his gaze. "But you’ll find I’m not so easily moved, Lord Damon."

Damon raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. "Not so easily moved… yet here you are, preparing to marry me." He took a step closer, his tone softer, though no less intense. "I would think that requires some level of willingness."

Hazel's heart raced despite herself, but she stood her ground. "I’m doing this for my kingdom, not for you," she said firmly. "My loyalty lies with my people, and if that means marrying you, so be it. But that doesn’t mean I’ll make it easy for you."

"Good," he replied, his smile faint but genuine. "I don’t care for things that come easily."

The air between them grew tense, and Hazel could feel herself both irritated and intrigued by the challenge in his eyes. But before she could respond, a soft cough came from behind her.

"Princess Hazel," Lady Seraphina’s calm voice broke the silence, and Hazel turned to see the royal advisor standing with her usual serene yet piercing expression. "May I have a word with you?"

Hazel nodded, sending one last defiant glance Damon’s way before following Seraphina. She could feel Damon’s eyes on her as she left, and a part of her bristled at the strange thrill it sent through her.

---

As they walked through the castle gardens, Lady Seraphina’s silence was weighted with unspoken words. Hazel, unable to stand the tension, finally asked, "What is it, Seraphina? You’ve looked troubled since I last saw you."

Seraphina glanced at her, her expression unreadable. "I know you’re determined, Princess. And I respect your strength. But there are things beyond power and pride… things that run deeper than what you see in Lord Damon."

Hazel frowned, her curiosity piqued. "And what, exactly, am I not seeing?"

"That remains to be seen," Seraphina replied cryptically. "But I must urge you to consider that your union with him may be… fated. There are forces at play, older than your father’s kingdom, that bind you to him in ways neither of you may understand yet."

Hazel tried to shake off the chill Seraphina’s words brought, but it lingered. “So, are you saying this marriage isn’t only about protecting our kingdom?”

Seraphina’s eyes softened. "All I can say is that your marriage may be your kingdom’s salvation… or its undoing."

Hazel’s heart pounded, the weight of Seraphina’s words pressing down on her as she tried to process them. This wasn’t just about political alliances or her father’s wishes—there was something greater, something beyond her understanding.

"How am I supposed to trust someone I barely know?" Hazel whispered, more to herself than to Seraphina.

Seraphina placed a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Trust yourself, Princess. And remember, even darkness has its purpose. Perhaps it’s through this union that you’ll find the light you seek."

---

Determined to find answers on her own terms, Hazel left Seraphina and found herself wandering back toward the courtyard, where Damon was still waiting. His expression shifted when he saw her—perhaps a flicker of interest or amusement, she couldn’t tell.

"Changed your mind about avoiding me?" he asked, his tone lightly teasing.

Hazel didn’t respond immediately. She crossed her arms, studying him with newfound intensity. "I don’t plan to go into this marriage blindly, Damon. If you expect me to follow along without knowing what I’m agreeing to, you’re mistaken."

He raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued by her boldness. "Very well. If you insist on challenging me, then I have a proposal." He gestured to a small training ground near the edge of the courtyard. "I’ll teach you a few things—a ‘lesson’ or two to prepare you for what’s ahead. But you must follow my lead."

Hazel hesitated, unsure of his intentions, but curiosity overpowered her caution. "What kind of lesson are we talking about?"

Damon smirked. "A practical one. After all, if you’re to be queen, you should know more about the world outside the palace walls." He walked toward the training area, glancing over his shoulder to see if she would follow.

Despite her reservations, Hazel stepped forward. She refused to let him think she was intimidated. "Fine. Let’s see if you can actually teach me something worth learning."

They arrived at the training ground, and Damon removed his cloak, revealing a simple tunic and a belt where a dagger hung at his side. Hazel’s eyes lingered on him longer than she intended, a mix of irritation and… something else stirring within her. But she quickly masked it with an air of indifference.

"Have you ever held a weapon before, Princess?" Damon asked, handing her a practice sword.

Hazel took it, gripping the hilt with a determined expression. "I’ve had some training," she replied, lifting the sword and mimicking the stance she remembered.

Damon chuckled, clearly unimpressed. "Well, then let’s see if that training holds up."

He moved toward her, his steps graceful and controlled, and in a swift motion, he reached out to correct her stance. His hands, firm but surprisingly gentle, adjusted her grip on the sword, his touch lingering for a brief moment longer than necessary. Hazel’s cheeks flushed, but she held his gaze, refusing to let him see her flustered.

“Better,” he murmured, a trace of a smile in his voice. “Now, try not to drop it.”

They began to spar, Damon moving with a fluidity that made it clear he was far more experienced. He let Hazel strike first, deflecting her attack with ease. Each time she tried to land a hit, he sidestepped gracefully, his movements almost teasing.

“You’re holding back,” she accused, frustrated but exhilarated by the challenge.

“And you’re trying too hard,” he countered, his voice calm. “A true warrior finds balance. You’re too focused on overpowering me.”

"Maybe I just want to knock that smirk off your face," she replied, her own grin forming despite herself.

Damon chuckled, but his expression softened. "Then show me your strength, Hazel. If you’re as fierce as you seem, prove it."

Hazel’s heart pounded as she lunged forward, this time allowing herself to relax into the movements. She swung with newfound confidence, landing a light tap on Damon’s shoulder. He looked at her, visibly surprised, then let out a genuine laugh.

"Not bad, Princess," he said, a glint of admiration in his eyes. "Maybe you do have something to show after all."

They stood there, both breathing heavily, the air thick with unspoken words. For the first time, Hazel felt something shift—like an unspoken agreement between them, a silent acknowledgment of the strength they each possessed.

"Consider this lesson one," Damon murmured, his gaze lingering on hers. "There’s much more I intend to teach you."

And as Hazel walked away, she knew that, whatever lay ahead, she was ready for the challenge.