𝐌𝐘 𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐀𝐍𝐓

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍

꧁꧂

    The only sound that could be heard as Zaahir and (Y/N) walked down the hallways of one of the palace's corridors were the clip of their boots against the linoleum floor. It was awkward, and the reason for said awkwardness was thick and obvious in the air, though she said nothing since she was hoping he wouldn't speak of such subjects.

Her wishes were ignored.

"So..." he started speaking, making her raise her eyes from the floor to turn in his direction, his gaze however not leaving the space of air in front of him. "Why didn't you tell me, huh?"

"Tell you what?"

    Please don't talk about the Princess.

"Why didn't you tell me the Princess fancies you?" He continued bitterly.

    Shit.

"Was it that much fun?" He grit his teeth, his fingers flexing. "Did you enjoy seeing me spill my feelings for her, all the while you knew what she felt toward you? True, she would never be with a servant, but she was hanging all over you—in front of King, even! Where is the justice in that bloody damn tragedy, huh?"

"Trust me, Zaahir," she murmured, her grip on her sword tightening. "Even if she did have feelings for me—real ones—the ones she currently has is merely an interest in a new toy—"

"Don't speak of her like that."

"—meaning, I'd never return those feelings."

"And what makes you so confident that you won't?" His scowl deepened. "You're a man, aren't you? And she a beautiful, angelic women that is both powerful and graceful. How can you not feel anything toward her?"

She sighed.

    "Tell me."

    "Fine," she murmured. "Why would I feel anything towards her when I already have someone?"

    Zaahir stopped at her words, the click of his boots against the floor falling silent as he merely just stared at her, having not expecting that bit of information. (Y/N) also stopped and turned to face him, finding that he looked more surprised than anything about her sudden confession. Then again, it was only natural his reaction would be like that considering she had already proclaimed she had no such person in her life.

"But... we, the guys and I, we asked you earlier and yet... you said you had no one like that in your life," he mumbled. "If you're already in love, then why didn't you tell us? And... why did you let me cast suspicions on you?"

    "Because... I just— Zaahir, look out!"

    In an instant, (Y/N)'s sentence was cut off when a figure appeared before them, the dark clothing they wore previously letting them blend into the shadows easier, especially since they were distracted with their conversation. Her warning was received just in time, Zaahir able to parry the blow that would have landed if it weren't for her shout.

    "Thanks..." he grunted, kicking the dead masked man away from him.

    "Don't mention it," she exhaled in relief.

     The two fought off only three more men, having to kill one who didn't seem to want to stay unconscious, (Y/N) then scrounging around for some rope while Zaahir guarded the knocked out group. Having been in the castle longer than Zaahir who was only assigned to build structures and manage the garden and courtyard, she knew the layout better and therefore found the material she needed easily. Tying the men up, Zaahir and (Y/N) left them for the palace guards to find, or, whoever was left of the palace guard.

    "To continue our conversation..." Zaahir exhaled deeply, trying to regain his breath after the small skirmish, smearing a bit of blood on his face when trying to wipe it off. "...why didn't you tell us about this 'secret love' of yours? Were you just embarrassed, or is it too personal? If it is, I'll stop asking altogether and that will be that."

    "No, it's not that," she shook her head. "That person... they already have someone else."

    "Oh..." he glanced away, his eyes then hardening. "But still... you should have told me about the Princess... you should have told me."

     "Zaahir..." she shook her head, shifting her gaze over to meet his. "I can't be the only one of us two who knows she's held affections for countless other men beside me, right? I'm not saying this to sound like a dick, but... you know what I'm saying is true, don't you?"

    "You're right," he answered, his lips curling into a small sneer. "You do sound like a dick."

    "Hey, you—"

    "No," he whirled around, pointing his sword at her her and making her back up, her hands raised in a defensive position, thinking back to when Aadon did the same to her not too long ago. "It's fucking annoying hearing you talk about the Princess that way. It's so... cruel."

    "What? Cruel?"

     What the hell is he talking about?

    "Don't bullshit me," he snapped. "You know exactly what I'm talking about. You act is if you're better than her and look at her as if... as if you can't stand the sight of her!"

   "I..." she trailed off, not too sure what to say.

    Maybe it was true when she looked at Seraph, she did so with a kind of abhorrence. Maybe it was true that said abhorrence stemmed from a type of envy that she tried to stifle each and every day due to Seraph being everything she wanted. Seraph could be beautiful and respected, powerful and dignified in the body of a woman while (Y/N) herself did not have that freedom.

    Then again, Seraph was still a woman.

    Unlike (Y/N) who disguised herself as a man, Seraph would never know what it'd be like to speak up for herself, to defend someone in need of defending, and to build friendships beyond that of political ones and arranged marriages. The world still wasn't accepting of that just yet.

    (Y/N) looked away from Zaahir.

    For in that moment, she realized that all this time, she had been a fool.

꧁꧂