Elara’s back stiffened at the sound of Sage’s voice, and for a brief, painful moment, she felt something crack inside her, something she had tried to hold together after the confrontation with her father. She didn’t turn to face him right away, her gaze still locked on the sunset as she tried to compose herself. Her breath hitched in her chest as the sobs she had been holding back quietly broke free, her shoulders trembling under the weight of her emotions.

For a few seconds, she let herself feel the tears—the hurt, the frustration, the helplessness. But then, with a sharp intake of breath, she quickly wiped them away, refusing to let herself crumble in front of him. She stood up quickly, brushing off the dirt from her tunic as if the movement would somehow erase the vulnerability she had just shown.

"Yeah, I know," she said, voice shaky but more controlled now, her back straight as she turned to face him. Her eyes were still red, the traces of tears barely hidden, but she forced a small, almost defiant smile. "I’ve been out here in the woods enough times to know what to do."

She glanced around at the trees surrounding them, the cool breeze rustling the leaves. The forest had always been her refuge, her escape from the suffocating weight of the castle and everything that came with it. She drew in a breath, letting it steady her.

"I’m not staying cooped up in that castle every single day," she added, her voice firm now, though it held a trace of the same frustration from earlier. The words felt almost foreign coming from her—she had been raised to fulfill her role, to follow orders, to stay in the castle and live up to her father’s expectations. But now, standing here in the wild, she realized how little she had ever let herself breathe before.

She looked at Sage, really looked at him for the first time. His stance was relaxed, arms crossed, but his eyes were studying her with an almost detached calm. He didn’t look at her like a princess or a burden—he just looked at her like a person, a fellow traveler in this strange, uncertain moment.

"Don't worry," she added quietly, her voice more composed, "I don’t need you to take me back. I know how to take care of myself."

But even as the words left her lips, a small part of her wondered if that was true. Would she be able to? Would she be strong enough to keep running, to carve out her own path, away from the life she had always known?

For now, though, she wouldn’t let him see that doubt.

Elara’s eyes locked onto Sage’s, the tension between them thickening with each passing second. The air felt charged, her emotions teetering on the edge of something fragile and violent. His words, his indifference, were too much like everything else in her life—the endless expectations, the demands. She couldn't escape it. Not even here, not even in the woods.

"You're not here because I want you," she said, her voice quieter now but no less harsh. She wasn't yelling, but there was an unmistakable bite behind her words. "I didn’t hire you. My father forced me to. He said I needed someone to 'protect' me. From what, exactly? My own damn life?" Her voice cracked slightly, and she quickly cleared her throat, willing herself not to show weakness in front of him.

She shook her head, pacing a few steps away from him, letting the words spill out like a dam breaking. "I’ve spent my whole life being told what to do, what to wear, what to say. And now, even when I want to make my own choices, it’s all about him. About the kingdom. I can’t even leave the damn castle without someone tailing me. I never wanted any of this." Her hands clenched into fists, but she didn’t look back at him.

Her chest tightened, the weight of it all threatening to choke her, but she swallowed it down, pulling her cloak tighter around her shoulders, as if the fabric could shield her from the world she was so desperately trying to escape.

Without warning, she took a deep, shaky breath, forcing the bitterness out of her voice. "I’m not asking for your help, Sage. I don’t need saving. I just need..." She trailed off, her thoughts faltering for a moment. What did she need? She didn't know anymore. The thought was too much to bear.

Her gaze softened, briefly, but she turned away before he could catch the change in her expression. “I’m not going back. Not tonight.” She said it as much for herself as for him, as though saying the words aloud would make them more real. More final.

She didn't wait for a response, didn’t care if he followed her or not. Without another word, she walked off into the gathering dusk, her steps steady but heavy, the shadows of the trees stretching long in the waning light.

The further she went, the deeper her cloak wrapped around her, and the more it seemed to absorb her presence, hiding her from everything she was running from. She didn’t need to face anyone—not now, not when she felt this small, this lost, under the weight of all the decisions she’d never made.

Eventually, she found a small overhang in the rock, a sheltered nook where the wind wouldn’t bite so harshly. She set down her pack with a soft grunt and knelt down to gather some dry branches, the familiar motions grounding her. Her hands moved automatically as she built a small fire, the spark catching quickly and soon a steady flame licked at the air, providing just enough warmth against the growing chill of the night.

As she sat back, pulling her knees up to her chest, Elara let the heat from the fire seep into her, the only warmth she felt in a world that seemed determined to freeze her out.

Her mind buzzed with everything she had said, everything she was running from. But here, in the dark, with only the crackling fire and the vast emptiness around her, she didn’t have to worry about being anything. There were no titles, no expectations, no walls pressing in. For a fleeting moment, Elara let herself simply exist.

She closed her eyes, drawing her cloak tighter around her, and listened to the sounds of the night. Tomorrow would be another day, and she wasn’t ready to think about it yet. Not now. Not when she felt like she was finally free. Even if it was just for a few hours.

Elara’s fingers danced over the fire, the warmth of the flames a sharp contrast to the cold that lingered deep inside her. She could feel the weight of her words still hanging in the air, but the longer she sat there, the more she wanted to push them down, bury them under the crackle of the fire and the dark, still night. She’d said too much already—revealed too much of herself, her frustrations, her helplessness. It felt like too much. It always did.

The fire was a small comfort, but even that couldn’t ward off the ache in her chest. She wanted to feel something—anything—other than the weight of a life she didn’t choose, the endless layers of expectations that crushed down on her from every direction. She wanted to be free, even for just a few hours, but the freedom she craved always felt just out of reach. No matter how far she went, no matter how much she tried to escape, it followed her like a shadow.

Her thoughts began to swirl again, too loud, too overwhelming, until her head began to ache. The constant pressure to be perfect, to play the role assigned to her from the moment she was born—it was suffocating. She had never asked for any of it, yet it had always been there, clinging to her, defining her.

She ran a hand over her face, brushing away the frustration that clung to her like dust. She’d spoken the truth earlier, but now, as the night stretched on, she wondered if it had been the wrong truth. She wasn’t sure. Maybe she didn’t even know what she wanted anymore. She just knew she couldn’t go back—not now, not tonight.

She watched the flames dance, her eyes tracing their erratic paths as they twisted upward, devouring the dry wood. It was a strange kind of beauty, like everything she had ever known. Wild, untamed, destructive, yet necessary. The fire was a thing of power, a thing that both gave and took. And for all her yearning to escape, she couldn’t help but wonder if, in the end, she wasn’t so different.

She let out a long breath, the weight of everything pressing down again. The night felt endless, but the truth lingered, as it always did, waiting for her to confront it. Tomorrow would force her back into her life—the life she’d never asked for, the life that felt so far removed from the girl she might have been.

But tonight, she let herself be alone. Tonight, she let herself feel something besides the constant pull of duty, of expectation. It didn’t fix anything, didn’t change anything, but for this one fleeting moment, it was enough. The world would still spin. The kingdom would still need her. But she wouldn’t think about that now.

For tonight, she was simply Elara. Not a princess, not a pawn. Just a girl sitting by a fire, feeling the cold and the warmth, alone in the vastness of the woods.

And that, for a little while, was enough.

Elara woke with the first hints of dawn breaking through the thick canopy of trees above her. The night’s quiet still clung to her skin, but the chill of morning began to creep in, making her shiver as she sat up. Her mind was slower than usual, groggy from a night of tangled thoughts, but the cold air and the reality of the day ahead began to clear the fog. She had always been one to rise early, the world quieter and her thoughts sharper in the solitude of dawn.

She stretched her limbs, wincing as the stiffness in her body made itself known, a reminder that she had spent the night on the hard ground beneath the stars, with nothing more than her cloak for comfort. Her gaze flickered to the smoldering embers of the fire she had made the night before. The flames were little more than faint whispers now, the warmth they had offered long since evaporated into the cool morning air.

The woods around her were still, peaceful, as though the world was holding its breath. Elara reached for her bow, the familiar weight of it grounding her. It was a simple thing—crafted from ash wood, with a string that had been re-tied a hundred times—but it felt like an extension of herself, something that could keep her connected to the world outside of expectations and royal duties.

She stood, scanning the surrounding trees and underbrush. The air smelled faintly of pine and earth, and the only sounds were the rustling of leaves in the breeze and the occasional birdcall. She needed to eat. There was no real plan today, no direction beyond survival. She couldn’t afford to dwell on the weight of everything just yet. That would come later, when she returned to the castle. For now, she would do what she knew—what she had always known.

Her eyes narrowed as she spotted movement—small, quick. A rabbit, nibbling at the grass a few yards away. It was just the break she needed. With practiced ease, Elara crouched, steadying herself, drawing her bow as she silently nocked an arrow. The rabbit didn’t seem to notice her at first, its head down in search of food, oblivious to the predator just behind the trees.

Elara took a slow breath, focused. She had killed many creatures in her life—deer, boar, birds—but something about the stillness of this moment made the shot feel more important. Her fingers released the string, and the arrow flew, swift and true. It struck the rabbit cleanly, the force of it knocking the creature to the ground in an instant.

Elara stood up, her gaze flicking to the animal as it twitched a few times before going still. She had never liked the idea of unnecessary violence, but this was a matter of survival. She had learned from a young age that nothing in the world was truly free, and sometimes, survival meant making hard choices.

She moved quickly to where the rabbit lay, taking care to clean it efficiently. Her hands worked with precision, skin already stained with the blood, her thoughts distant as she focused on the task at hand. She knew she would have to cook it, make it edible. The fire she had made last night still offered a few embers, so she set about rekindling it, carefully coaxing the flame to life again.

As she waited for the fire to build, she rummaged through her small pack for some herbs she had gathered the day before. She wasn’t a skilled cook by any means, but she knew enough to make the meal palatable. The smell of roasting meat filled the air as she cooked the rabbit over the flames, the scent mingling with the smoke, earthy and primal.

While she ate, the silence of the woods settled around her. She chewed slowly, savoring the warmth of the food. It wasn’t much, but it was enough. Her thoughts drifted, the weight of the previous night lingering just under the surface, but she didn’t let it overtake her. Not yet. There would be time enough for that when she returned. For now, she allowed herself this small moment of quiet solitude.

The fire crackled as she finished her meal, the last of the rabbit gone. Elara wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and stood, the familiar sense of duty starting to settle back into her bones. The woods were still and beautiful in the early morning light, but she couldn’t stay here forever. Her life waited for her, and there was no escaping it.

She packed up her things, leaving behind the remnants of the fire, ensuring it was fully extinguished. The path ahead was unknown, as it always was, but she would move forward. There was no other choice.

With one final look around the clearing, Elara took a deep breath and began walking, the weight of her responsibilities settling back over her like a cloak. The world was vast and quiet, and yet it had a way of pressing down on her at every turn. Still, for now, she was alone—and that, at least, was something.