Chapter 2 – Reckless

It was so casual. Just like the first time they met. No formal introductions, no pretentions.

She was out for a stroll on a Thursday afternoon. The weather was warm and it made her blouse stick to her arms and to the skin of her back. There was not a cloud in the sky. Three airships jetted in view. Tenebrae's, most probably. She was sure they were heading for battle. In some part of this world, the horizon was ash gray with smoke. A perfect contrast of hue with today's blue and fine weather.

A soldier rushed to her direction. He ran past her but not without bowing the second he noticed her presence. She waved back and mouthed, "Hello." She was never one to feel the slightest bit privileged by formalities given by foot soldiers. In spite of the war abroad, things remained the same around the Fleuret household. Dad was still dad. Even though she should start calling him, "King," since the former one's passing.

Stella watched as the soldier disappeared at the turn of the street. Two more followed, higher-ranking officials this time, who also paid their respects to the daughter of the newly-crowned king of Tenebrae. Three more, and then five or six—she lost count—rushed, bowed, and passed by her. The last to leave her presence, she had the urge to grab by the arm and ask what the ruckus was about.

"Trespassers, Your Highness," the official said and his reply stirred something inside of her. He offered her escort back to the palace, but she politely declined and reminded him of the importance of his task at hand. Stella half-smiled at the man's wake and sudden sense of urgency.

She started down the street, thinking about the enemies who got past the borderline and the gates that her forefathers had built. She should worry about a lot. Her own safety, to begin with. Her mother's and little brother's, next. Her father was now king so that made everyone in her family a target too. Stella spun on her heels. She was determined to return to the palace when a strong force pulled her from her steps. Her back was suddenly against a wall and she was staring directly into the eyes of another. He was leaning very close to her face. His finger before his lips and his other hand pressed against her mouth.

She didn't cry out, but she struggled to wrestle herself free from the man's hold on her. There was something awfully strange about him. He had the exact face as that of the so-called, traitorous prince of Lucis. But his eyes were much different. They were red, deep red.

Civilians walked by. But the alley seemed too dim or too ordinary for anyone to take a second look if a person was already being mauled or harassed. Stella screamed from her gut and tried kicking back. She was afraid of this man and his deep red eyes like blood. The prince quickly shifted himself behind her so he was now against the wall, trying to gain the upper hand. His arms wrapped more tightly around her and he locked a foot around her ankles to prevent her from moving struggling further.

"I won't hurt you, Stella," he whispered to her ear. "I promise."

She was instantly relaxed. Was it the way he promised safety? Or the fact that he remembered who she was? His words felt sincere, but his tone could very well be a lie. She could feel her heart racing in her chest. His warm breath fanned across the side of her face as he told her he would let go slowly, if she promised not to scream. She nodded in fair agreement.

She turned to face him and there they were. Midnight blue. His eyes were no longer red that she must think she'd imagined it. She mouthed his name and said, "Are you here to kill me?"

She expected a blade thrusting against her. A fresh wound and eventual blood loss. But he just stood there and looked at her like he didn't understand what she was saying. They remained still in that alleyway. He was on full alert in case anyone discovered his whereabouts. She, on the other hand, simply watched him.

The soldiers and officials who greeted her earlier walked past the dark alley, unsuspecting. They didn't come back empty-handed though. A tall, blonde male of slender built and a gruff-looking man with huge, tattooed arms were caged in the middle of the Tenebraeans who captured them.

Stella observed the way his body tensed up without him having to say anything. Comrades, she thought. He put one foot forward, but faltered on his next step. Stella knew that at that moment, he was powerless to save them, lest he be discovered. And Stella found that she didn't want him taken away from her.

She didn't ponder about the consequences for a minute longer. It would be beyond rationality what she was about to do for the enemy. She would be putting herself in great danger. She was technically betraying her country.

But she took his hand anyway, and said, "This way."

She led him to an exit through the other side of the alley. Etro must've heard her prayer.