Chapter Thirteen

The morning arrived with a weighty stillness, a rare hush that settled over our hidden alcove. It wasn't the usual calm that often accompanied the Kaimari's enigmatic demeanor; this was different, an almost palpable uncertainty hanging in the air. The warmth of his body stirred beside me, a reassuring presence in the midst of the unknown. His arm draped over me like a protective shield, creating an intimate haven I had never experienced. He was a colossal figure compared to my slight frame, a captivating mix of strength and gentleness that both intrigued and comforted me.

Our morning meal was a quiet affair, the biting cold of the previous day yielding to a gentler breeze. As the new day's light bathed us in its soft glow, time seemed to stretch, and I found myself lost in this tranquil moment. It was a paradise, a moment suspended in eternity, free from the rush of the outside world. I cherished the sensation, allowing it to permeate every fiber of my being. In this instance, we were unburdened by the past or the future, simply existing in the serenity of now. It left me as serene and content as I would later feel on the sun-soaked shores of Thallassia. The memory of this tranquility, of the Kaimari's insistence that I leave the blooming flowers untouched, would stay with me like a sacred secret.

As we emerged from the cave's mouth, he gently took charge, lifting me into his arms. The ship wasn't far, just a mile or perhaps a mile and a half away, yet I wished it could have been ten thousand. He picked me up gently and allowed my body to maintain warmth against his armor. I should have known that this was the first sign.

I fell asleep. Looking back, I wish I had fought against it, defied the pull of slumber to savor every instance with him. I should have taken in the fragments of our world, the beauty shattered by the electric storm, the strength of the twisted mangroves standing tall against the chaos. I should have suggested preserving the frozen flowers in Astraeus's labs, a tangible memory of our time on the island. Perhaps, in the future, I could have laughed with him about it, and amidst our laughter, my fingers could have playfully pushed him into a vial, sealing him to me forever.

For years to come, I would replay our unspoken debate in my mind. Stay with me, in our home. The Empire cannot find us here, we’re safe. We can christen the island with a name that carries your essence—Kaimari, warrior, guardian, whichever speaks to you. I will have your children, they can all be boys. We can raise them free from any of the pain or death we both were destined to suffer. I will age, you will age, and we will hit a point where time itself does not matter, a society of our own.

I should have savored every instant, memorized every detail, but instead, the comfort of his embrace lulled me into sleep. I surrendered to slumber like a child in the arms of her father. A princess whose bodyguard had carried her back to the castle.

I woke up in the ship's master bedroom, disoriented and slightly disbelieving of the passage of time. Sixteen hours had passed since I had closed my eyes, and the vastness of space outside the windows left me breathless. The Kaimari sat at the Captain's seat, his posture different, and my heart twisted as I recognized the signs. He was distant, aloof as if an invisible wall had risen between us.

He was a gemstone in human form, a precious rarity that shimmered with an inner light. Tall and lean, he navigated with the elegance of a celestial being, his every movement a dance among the stars.

"Morning," I greeted, hoping to bridge the gap with my cheerfulness, but his response was cold and distant. "I'm glad you slept," he said, his words carrying an underlying tone that was more pity than genuine concern.

My gaze drifted to the swirling expanse of hyperspace, my stomach churning with a mix of apprehension and curiosity. "Where are..." I began, my voice faltering as I faced the inevitable question. "Where are you taking me?"

He looked at me, his expression inscrutable. "I contacted my Commander," he replied, his voice void of any warmth. "Your family is off-grid, in hiding. Dawnlight severed connections when I tried to reach them."

A surge of anxiety welled up within me. "How long were we on the island?" I asked, my voice almost a whisper.
"Three months," he answered, and with a swift movement, he brought us out of hyperspace. "Kairos is offering you protection for the next three."

“Kairos…?”

“My planet.”

“Oh,” I managed. Three months together and I had failed to ask him where he was from. Kairos, the original Kaimari planet. The high court ruling, royal, regal. He must serve on their guard.

My curiosity got the better of me. "What's your role there?" I inquired, trying to engage him in conversation, to bring back the connection we had shared.

He hesitated for a moment, his stance becoming tense. "I'm actually banned from the planet," he admitted, his voice low.

I almost chuckled, finding it hard to imagine a Kaimari warrior being banned from his own planet. But there was something in his demeanor that made me hold back, sensing that this was a topic I shouldn't take lightly.

"I went rogue, I work independently," he added, and the tension in his shoulders only deepened.

"But you mentioned your Commander," I pressed on.

He sighed, his gaze shifting even further away. "It's complicated."

“We'll arrive in two hours, it’s a safe planet,” he had stood, and his gloved hand was lingering on the bare skin of my shoulder. My hand traveled up to his, my fingertip grazing his own. His thumb massaged the column of my throat. “You’ll be safe there,” he assured, and then, just like that, he was gone.

-----

As the ship's plank descended with a haunting creak, the world itself seemed to shift, a tectonic rumbling that heralded an impending parting. It was as though the universe recognized the chasm widening between us, mirroring the void that echoed within my chest. A future unfurled before me, a canvas of desolation where his unwavering presence was slipping from my grasp. Sorrow surged like a tidal wave, threatening to engulf me, yet tears and hysteria felt like extravagant indulgences, luxuries I couldn't afford. The Warrior was a celestial being, untamed and free; he belonged to the stars and the sky, and never to me.

The harsh desert sun blazed upon our landing, a stark spotlight that illuminated the fragility of our predicament. Three figures awaited us, cloaked in armored suits that exuded an air of formidable authority. These were the Kaimari, his brethren, yet an undercurrent of tension whispered that their reception was far from open-armed.

He moved with a grace that masked an undercurrent of threat, a panther poised for a calculated strike. His fingers brushed against his weapon, a subtle yet potent reminder of the lethal strength he wielded.

"Warrior," an armored woman greeted him, her tone laden with unspoken disapproval. "Strange to see you alive and well."

He responded with a measured calm, a façade that concealed a history etched in shadows. "Elise,’ he nodded at her, “Nora."

Nora's voice dripped with sarcasm, her gold armor catching the sun's light like a blade. "How lovely to see you.”
Then emerged the Commander, a figure of undeniable authority. “Princess Irina,” she inclined her head in a show of respect. “I am Maria, Commander of the Warrior Ranks of the Kaimari Legion.”

“An honor,” I replied, returning the formal gesture with a nod.

Maria's gaze shifted to the man at my back, his form a comforting shield against the world's scrutiny. Her words cut through the tension, slicing the air with an edge of menace. “We've heard of your mission's abandonment with the Empire,” she declared, twin gold blades gleaming like a warning as she circled him. “A familiar tale for you, it seems, betraying your kin.”

A firm hand pressed to my lower back, an anchor that kept me tethered to him. “The alliance with the Empire was ill-conceived,” his voice carried an unspoken regret, an acknowledgment of his own flawed choices. “Though sound judgment has never truly been my strong suit.”

Nora, the smallest of the three warriors, hissed her contempt at him. Maria's raised hand silenced her, her gaze shifting to me, her visor capturing my gaze. “Let his mistakes bear their own weight,” she intoned, her words as cool and cutting as her armor. “We are here for someone of value.”

A protective instinct surged within me, and I stepped forward. “Kaimari,” my voice quivered with emotion as I addressed the trio of armored women. “I am humbled by your extension of protection to the Astraeus line. Your sacrifice will never be forgotten.” My gaze shifted to the figure behind me, my guardian and confidant. “All four of you.”

The gesture elicited a scoff from one of the female warriors, and I turned to her with the authority of my station, much as Irina would have. The effect was palpable, though it was unclear whether it was respect or something more complex that colored their reactions.

"We shall set up camp here, Your Highness," Maria declared with an air of finality. “At the edge of the city–they’re an untouched civilization, technology is limited, their existence concealed from the Empire's prying eyes.”

"The orphanage shall be your residence," she motioned towards a distant beige building, her words tinged with a tinge of impatience. "You will maintain your cover, of course. The woman in charge is aware of our presence, though we prefer to remain in the shadows." A languid stretch followed her words, as though the assignment was dreadfully mundane. "We are not babysitters, but shall check in intermittently."

A nod was my only response.

Maria's scrutiny shifted to my attire, the clothes of Irina. “It would be prudent to change," she advised with an edge of command. And just like that, they retreated to their encampment, the weight of their departure heavy in the air.

"I will escort you," the Kaimari offered.

A quiet, almost mocking response reached us from the shadows. One of the three golden warriors. "Of course you will."