Chapter Twenty-One

My heart raced, my breath caught in my throat. The world around me seemed to blur as if touched by the wings of a storm. I blinked, convinced that my senses were deceiving me. The Kaimari Warrior was a specter from the past, a memory shrouded in mystery and longing. Yet, here he was, standing as real and undeniable as the stars themselves.

Prince Azhrel's voice continued, his words a melody of power and charisma, but they were distant echoes against the tumultuous storm of emotions raging within me. It was the Kaimari Warrior who held my attention, his presence a force that stirred memories and desires long suppressed.

I felt faint, the weight of the past and the present pressing upon me like an unrelenting force. Without thought or consideration for the formalities of the court, I rose from the throne, my movements both hesitant and urgent. The room had fallen into a hushed confusion, eyes following my every step as I made my way toward the center of the ballroom.

Prince Azhrel's words faltered as he noticed my panic, his expression a mixture of surprise and curiosity. I spared him only a fleeting glance, my focus entirely fixed on the Kaimari Warrior who stood beside him.

"Your Majesty?" Prince Azhrel's voice held a note of confusion, a politeness that I scarcely registered amidst the tempest within.

And then, as if drawn by an invisible thread, my gaze met his, obscured by the helmet but undeniably intense. The ballroom seemed to dissolve into nothingness, the opulent surroundings fading to insignificance before the magnetic pull of his presence. In that instant, the currents of time converged, melding the past and present into an intoxicating nexus.

"Your Majesty?" Prince Azhrel's voice broke through the reverie, his concern mingling with the rising murmur of the court.
I blinked, and the spell momentarily shattered. The room had fallen into hushed disarray, the courtiers exchanging curious glances and speculations. But my attention remained locked with the Kaimari Warrior, a figure from my past who had resurfaced like a tempest, upending the carefully constructed façade of my existence.

"I... apologize," I stammered, my voice betraying the whirlwind of emotions within me. The world seemed to tilt, the ground beneath my feet unsteady. “Ever since my homeland's invasion at the hands of the Empire I have had…fearful hallucinations. Please continue, Prince Azhrel.”

Prince Azhrel's brows furrowed in genuine confusion, but I scarcely noticed. My vision blurred, my heart raced, and the Kaimari Warrior's presence remained a force of nature that threatened to consume me entirely. Seven years of absence, and yet his impact remained as profound as ever—an enigma that defied reason and explanation.

“Please, ignore my daughter, it has been a rather long day,” Queen Nerida attempted, attempting to diffuse the situation. Her grip on my wrists was like a vice, leaving blooming bruises in its wake.

“It’s quite alright,” Prince Azhrel insisted. “I, too, know what is it to be impacted by the terror of the Empire,” he turned to the room at large, "In fact, I find it quite commendable for someone of her station to openly voice struggles of mental health."

“You…do?” Irina asked from my side.

"Indeed," Prince Azhrel’s amethyst eyes met mine. "Such vulnerability is a rare trait and I consider it an attractive quality in a potential spouse."

Nerida's grip on my wrist loosened ever so slightly, a reaction to Prince Azhrel's words.

"Thank you, Prince Azhrel, for your understanding," I managed to assert, despite the Queen's proximity. “Your courtship is graciously accepted.”

“You honor me, Your Majesty,” Prince Azhrel acknowledged, bowing deeply. And as the courtroom began to empty, the air felt charged with unspoken secrets and the undeniable presence of the Kaimari Warrior—resurrected from the past to alter the course of my carefully orchestrated destiny.
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Nerida's rebukes in the bedroom seemed to fade into the background, Irina's fervent protests in my defense becoming distant echoes. Aelia's tears fell unnoticed in the corner, while Saija and Amaya's gazes remained locked on the horizon.

The sting of Nerida's slap across my face resonated through the room, causing me to stumble and draw the collective gaze of those present. Ezra, standing beside Command Kyros, hurried to my side, his concern evident in his eyes and his stance ready to aid me.

"Nerida," Irina's voice rang out, the sharpness of her tone piercing through the tension. "You do not touch her."

Amaya joined my side, her warrior leathers now donned, her fingers barely grazing the hilt of her sun blade—a subtle warning of the power she held. Anger surged within me, pushing aside my tears. "I'm sorry," I spat out at Nerida, my voice laced with frustration. "I didn't intend to appear weak."

Nerida's furious departure from the room echoed like a storm's thunderous exit.

"Are you alright?" Ezra's voice held a genuine concern, though my anxiety remained unabated.

"Leave us," Irina's voice commanded, guiding me gently to the vanity in the room. As I wiped away my tears, I focused on slowing my heart rate. But just as calm began to settle, another presence intruded upon the room.

I sensed his arrival before I saw him—iridium armor as imposing as the night sky. I clenched my fists, every fiber of my being urging me to confront him, to challenge him, to command the guards to pierce through his formidable armor. Yet, I chose another path, rising from my seat with measured composure. Weakness was not an option; I wouldn't grant him the satisfaction of witnessing my fragility.

"Your Majesty," his voice, modulated as ever, broke through the tense air as he bowed before me.

I wished to break his knees across the floor. "How may I be of service, warrior?" I retorted, my words laden with formality and detachment. A slight shift in his posture hinted at his reaction to the nickname I had bestowed upon him years ago. His next words, however, carried a deeper urgency. "Irina, I need to talk to you."

My brow arched ever so slightly. I cast a glance at the four handmaiden decoys flanking me—four pairs of puzzled shrugs and bewildered expressions. Sharing a wordless exchange with Irina, I noted her astonishment mirroring my own. With a subtle nod, I addressed my companions. "Ladies, do any of you know this man?"

The Kaimari's presence seemed to heighten their emotions. Aelia appeared more shaken, teetering on the edge of tears, while Amaya and Saija greeted him with warrior glares as if daring him to make a move. His gaze flickered over them, assessing each in turn, his voice a low murmur. "Decoys..."

Turning my back, I strolled toward the balcony, the mirror granting me a glimpse of his interactions with my chosen sisters. Aelia's distress, Amaya and Saija's ferocity—it was all unfolding in the reflective surface. His anguished words reached my ears, punctuating the tense air. "They are not you."

“They are not you,” he growled from behind me. I continued my slow pace to the edge of the balcony, looking over the dark expanse of the ocean.

My grip tightened on the balcony's edge. I refused to be ensnared by the past, to allow the memories of that island paradise to break me.

“Irina,” he demanded, his arm reaching out to clasp mine. “look at me.”

I faced my companions, my sisters, who were bracing for a confrontation. Amaya held a gun aimed at his helmet. Irina had drawn a knife. With a subtle signal, I quieted their aggression, willing them to withdraw.

“Let them kill me, let them kill me if you do not remember me.”

I took a deep breath, everything from the island flooding back into me. I would not let it drown me. “I apologize, warrior, I think one of my decoys is pretending not to remember you,” I lied.

Saija's protective arm guided me a few steps away from the Kaimari Warrior's reach. Irina's authoritative voice sliced through the charged atmosphere. "And whichever of us you think you know, she's pretending not to remember. Explain your presence, or leave."

Saija's steady grip steadied me, an anchor keeping me upright against the onslaught of emotions.

His plea echoed once more. "Irina, I know it's you."

"We are all Irina," Saija's firm voice intervened on my behalf. "We stand united in our protection of one another."

The true princess, her determination etched across her features, stepped forward. "Whoever you claim to recognize, she's feigning ignorance. Depart now.”

With a defeated sigh, the Warrior conceded to the collective will. "I need an audience with your head of security," he addressed the true royal among us. "Prince Azhrel desires collaboration between our forces during our stay."

"That would be me," Amaya's commanding presence surged forward, her warrior attire embodying her authority. "I am responsible for the safety of the princess."

The tension between Amaya and the Kaimari Warrior was palpable, their presence radiating an unspoken challenge. They stood a little taller, their gazes locked in a subtle contest of wills.

"I confess, I didn't consider the specific security needs of your planet," Amaya remarked, her words subtly laced with a hint of skepticism. “All of our other honored guests are not…strangers.”

“Strangers,” the Kaimari Warrior echoed, his visor briefly sweeping over my form. "Rest assured, we are no strangers."

Amaya and the warrior retreated around a corner, leaving me breathless and incensed. Security concerns, I scoffed inwardly. He sought a pretext to be near me, a right he had forfeited seven years ago.

Irina and Aelia began to untangle my hair, observing my turmoil, though they chose to remain silent. After a few minutes, they excused themselves, leaving me alone in the room.

I made my way to the balcony, the cool sea breeze a soothing balm to my racing heart. The Kaimari Warrior's presence remained an enigma, an uninvited guest from a past I had long buried. He now walked along the distant shoreline, accompanied by Amaya. The stars shimmered on him the same as they had on the island, mirroring the brilliance of the galaxy.

With a determined exhale, I closed the French doors to my bedroom. He would not perceive my reactions, he would not witness my vulnerability. Yet, as sleep's embrace began to tug at my consciousness, his presence lingered in my dreams. He would not escape unscathed, I vowed. He would suffer. I would pretend not to know him.