The Princess' Harem
Chapter 97: Into the Ruins

Chapter 97: Into the Ruins

Eryndor melted back into the shadows without another word, as silently as he had appeared. He vanished, leaving only a lingering chill where he had stood.

Viana turned her full attention to Reyes, grateful for the interruption, but also wary.

"What is it?" she asked with a quiet voice, already knowing the general direction of his concern.

His brown eyes were serious, reflecting the dying embers of the fire.

"Princess, Prince Rayne’s presence changes things. Drastically."

Reyes’s voice was low, a rumble of his deep concern. "He is the heir of Valendale. And his connection to Elysia runs deeper than just our shared history."

A muscle in his jaw twitched.

"If anything were to happen to him out there, in this treacherous desert, it would bring immense trouble to Elysia. His father, the Valendale Emperor, would demand answers." Reyes paused, his gaze sweeping the desolate landscape beyond their firelight.

"And Prince Arin’s rebelling people... they might already smell his coming to this desert. They would see his vulnerability as an opportunity."

"Then we’ll deal with it," Viana interrupted, her voice firm, leaving no room for argument. Her patience for political maneuvering was thin, especially now, with the blight spreading.

"Right now, the blight is the enemy. Not Arin’s people." She looked at him, her gaze unwavering. "We cannot afford to look at this through the lens of old rivalries or potential political fallout. The threat to all our lands is too great."

Reyes exhaled, a slow, audible breath, a mix of frustration and resignation. "You trust things too easily," he stated, his voice flat, a criticism wrapped in concern.

He was her guardian, her sworn sword, and his duty was to see threats where she saw opportunities.

"Or maybe you don’t trust me enough," Viana countered immediately, her voice rising slightly, a hint of stubbornness in her tone.

The truth was, she trusted Reyes. And Joel. And Arden. And even Kaley. Perhaps Rayne, too. But Reyes seemed to see enemies everywhere.

A beat of silence stretched between them, thick with the unspoken history and differences in their personalities.

Then, unexpectedly, Reyes’s lips quirked into a rare, almost imperceptible smirk.

"You’re as stubborn as ever," he murmured, a hint of grudging admiration in his tone.

She grinned, a genuine, tired smile that reached her eyes. "Takes one to know one."

For a moment, it was easy. Just them, under the vast, uncaring sky.

No titles, no politics, no dying world. Just two stubborn people, bound by duty and a strange, comfortable familiarity. The tension of the night, the weight of their quest, lifted for a fleeting instant.

Then Joel’s voice, rough with feigned annoyance, cut through the quiet night. "If you two are done flirting, some of us would like to sleep."

His voice carried clearly, a mischievous glint in his unseen eyes.

Reyes scowled, the brief moment of ease shattering instantly.

Viana, though startled, reacted instinctively. She snatched a small pebble from the sand and threw it with surprising accuracy at the dark shape of Joel’s bedroll.

A muffled grunt, then a low, easy laugh from Joel confirmed it had found its mark. He chuckled, clearly enjoying the disruption, dodging any lingering consequences with his usual effortless grace.

The moment passed, but the warmth it had generated remained, a small ember in the cold.

As she finally lay down on her own bedroll, wrapping herself tightly in her cloak, Viana closed her eyes. She listened to the quiet breaths of the men around her, the familiar sounds of their camp, a fragile bubble of life against the encroaching darkness.

Harem or not... they’re mine to protect now.

The thought settled in her mind, a quiet, resolute promise.

***

The first light of dawn was a soft purple in the east when Viana woke. The desert air was still cold, making her shiver, but the stars were already fading.

Joes was by the fire, making the embers glow again. Reyes stood silently, watching the flat plains. Kaley knelt in prayer, his head down. Arden carefully packed his old scrolls. Prince Rayne and his knights, though tired, moved stiffly as they got ready.

The ride to the Ruins of Al’Khar was long and tiring. The desert never changed, offering no comfort. The sky turned from soft dawn colors to a bright, harsh blue as the sun rose, beating down on them.

The ground was hard and cracked, with only rocks and shallow dips. Dust rose with every hoofbeat, covering their clothes and filling their mouths.

Viana rode in front with Joel, always watching the horizon. There was little to see, just endless brown and orange stretching into the hazy distance, shimmering in the heat. Her mind felt as dry as the land, and the shaky ground she now led.

Hours passed slowly, marked only by the sun moving across the sky. It beat down like a hammer. Water was carefully given out, just enough to stop the worst thirst.

Talk stopped, except for short orders or important notes. The only sounds were the creak of saddles, the soft thud of hooves, and the dry wind. Even the strong desert horses looked tired in the heat.

Late in the afternoon, as the sun began to set, painting the western sky in bright orange and red, a faint, broken shape appeared far away.

At first, it looked like a shimmering illusion in the heat. But slowly, it became clear, growing bigger with each step of their horses.

"Al’Khar," Arden whispered, his voice full of wonder.

The Ruins of Al’Khar rose from the flat desert like the bones of a dead beast. It wasn’t just one building but many broken stone walls, arches, and towers that reached to the sky like stone fingers.

The dry wind howled through the old stones, carving grooves in them, making hollows that seemed to moan with ghosts. There was no life, just silence and decay, a quiet reminder of a forgotten people.

"Stay alert," Reyes ordered, grabbing his sword. His eyes darted around, checking the silent stones. Rayne’s knights got closer, their faces grim, their tiredness forgotten for a moment.

Even Joel’s usual relaxed stance was gone, replaced by a sharp watchfulness that tightened his jaw.