Eight years ago.

Runaesthera ran swiftly toward Artemia's square, once again her magic practices would have to be in combat. Her father's disapproval of her fighting was of no concern to her; once more, a dragon had crossed the ballistae and was attacking the city directly. There was no way she would stay locked up again while people died burned to death.

She could already see the beast on the other side of the canal; it was a huge monster with white scales and a long neck ending in an elegant arrow-shaped head, topped with long black horns. It would have been worthy of admiration if it weren't a damned dragon. May the goddess condemn it.

The bridge was burning when Runaesthera reached it. She could have extinguished it but opted for the direct route and created her own bridge by freezing the canal water with a spell. It was a bad idea; it was so slippery and uneven that it took her much longer than necessary to cross. Fortunately, the beast seemed to focus its attention on something in particular and had not yet noticed her.

Upon reaching the other side of the canal, a guard who had recognized her shouted, "Princess! Flee!" The man ran trying to get away from the huge monster he had decided he could not fight, a luxury she could not afford. She ignored the man and approached the square where apparently the dragon was already fighting someone. If she took it by surprise, she could pierce its belly with an ice stake, or perhaps aim at its head with lightning...

With a muffled roar, the dragon's head fell to the ground lifeless, the long horns clinked against the square's tile, and the body simply collapsed. Its blood ran towards the canal like rainwater itself. Then, Runa reacted.

"Take cover! Everyone get away!"

The lifeless body began to swell as the pool of blood ignited into a blue flame. Runa invoked a magical shield around her, praying to the goddess that it would be enough. The explosion of the body was not as violent as others she had seen, but dragons always died releasing all the fire inside them. The entire square shook, the ground cracked, but the shield managed to prevent further damage.

A few meters away, sheltered behind one of King Alistor's statues, was the author of such a brave feat. Runa could see him better as he stood up; he was a young man, he could not be more than seventeen years old, he had brown hair just at the nape of the neck, he was quite tall for a human of his age and... he wore a captain's uniform... So young? It could be stolen but... it fit him perfectly, when he walked towards her, his step was so firm, determined, he had barely stained himself with dragon blood, or perhaps...

"Miss," said the young captain with absurd formality, "If you are a mage, I beg you to assist me, it seems I have a deep wound on my side."

Runaesthera immediately noticed that what she had thought was dragon blood was oozing from his side slowly.

"Quick, lie down, I can heal the wound, but you have to rest or you will bleed out before I finish the spell."

"Do not fear, I will be fine, I have had..." The princess pushed him to the ground with a shove, visibly annoyed.

"You're weak, idiot, that wound is from its horns, it won't close on its own. Have you never fought a dragon?"

"I have never been wounded," he said with a whimper, starting to feel the pain.

"Save the pedantry for another time." She cut his shirt with her knife and began to murmur a spell; closing a dragon wound required a very powerful spell to eliminate the curse and regenerate at the same time. She placed her hand on his abdomen and could feel the heat of his muscles; the brief distraction was enough to have to start over.

When the work was done, people had begun to approach the square again, several soldiers rushed to take their captain away.

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"Your Majesty! On behalf of the third infantry platoon, we thank you for taking care of our captain. He is a valuable element although he has given you trouble."

"A pleasure, soldier, your platoon was able to finish off a white dragon and from what I see, there have been no civilian casualties. Excellent work."

The captain stood up with his hand on his newly healed side. "Your Majesty?"

"Your Majesty!" The soldier from before looked at her hopefully, "Permission to reprimand my superior officer."

Runa found all this too amusing and nodded.

"Freydelhart! Damn it, she is Princess Runaesthera of Artemia, and she just saved your life, you could at least stand at attention!"

"Your Majesty!" The captain stood at attention so quickly that he could not hide the grimace of pain for neglecting his wound, "I am eternally grateful for your work and I ask you to excuse me for omitting your rank. I take full responsibility!"

The princess could have laughed right there, but she also had to comply with a minimum of protocol.

"At ease, soldier, it was a pleasure, congratulations on killing your first dragon."

The men of the platoon looked at each other, finally the same one who had reprimanded the captain spoke.

"Your Majesty, with all due respect, the captain has killed at least five dragons with this one. I do not wish to correct you, but I wanted to inform you out of respect for the valor of my captain."

Five? King Alistor was almost a thousand years old and as far as she knew, he had killed three, and this boy of barely seventeen years old had already finished off five? Was it true then that he had never been wounded?

"Captain..." Damn, what had the soldier called him? "Frey. Allow me to congratulate you on your feats and reward you. Come to the palace tonight with your men, I will inform the king, and we will receive you with a banquet."

"Yes, Your Majesty! We will be there."

The day passed as days usually do, the sun was setting and the princess was still not ready. She felt foolish for putting so much effort into an event like that; It was just the typical reward her father offered to the soldiers. He had done it many times, the soldiers would dine, receive a medal, and everything would end that same night, she usually attended with her mage's robe, that is, the gala one, much more adorned and long to the ground, but that night she wanted to look good so no one doubted that she was the princess. It was a matter of her pride wounded by that foolish captain. Yes, this time she could not be doubted.

She finally came down after sunset with a beautiful dress the same shade of pink as her hair, her mother always told her she looked beautiful in that color, although she herself doubted it because of her bronzed brown skin she had inherited from her father. She wore simple flat shoes, she did not want to look clumsy, and her father might force her to grant a dance to one of the soldiers, of course she wanted to enjoy the full height of the captain... no, what was she thinking?

She entered the banquet hall and the herald announced her. The soldiers had already arrived in the company of their superiors, of course, she had missed the dinner and the ceremony, her father was going to be furious and more because she had nominated the third platoon in person.

She looked everywhere for the captain but he found her first, he wore his impeccable uniform, but contrary to the fashion of the moment, he wore the jacket buttoned up to the third button when most of the military avoided it completely for gala events. His boots were immaculate and it was evident that he had groomed himself for the occasion. Even his hair was perfect. He had approached her from the side and addressed her without losing the firm and stiff posture of a military man.

"Your Majesty," he said in a tone that seemed improper to her, "I am glad you are here, I feared we would not have the honor of your presence."

She wished with all her might that she had worn her mage's suit, she needed to hide her blush under the hood.

"Captain... I apologize for the delay... it was my duty to pin the medal on your chest tonight, I fear I have disappointed you."

"That could never be, Your Majesty," -He was too polite for his age, for a soldier, damn, even for a man- "but your father assured me that I would have the honor of a dance with you, and I did not lose hope that you would appear."

"I will grant it to you, Captain" -how strange it felt to be so formal with someone who had youth written all over his face, no matter how mature his attitude was- "but I would ask you to do without your jacket. I fear it will not be comfortable" -and it would bother her... no, it was because frankly, he looked odd with the garment, like an old man rejuvenated by magic. Or like an elf like her father.

"I would prefer to keep it if you allow me, but if you insist, I will be obliged to please you."

"I insist, Captain."

Without the slightest hesitation, he unbuttoned the heavy coat, Runa, embarrassed, stopped his hand and buttoned it up again.

"You're a fool, you were going to take off your jacket even though you have only one shirt. It's cut and stained with blood, right?"

The look he gave her was a mix of relief and understanding, a subtle smile on a normally serious face. She wouldn't admit it, but that was the moment she knew, although she had already lived several human lifetimes, his, she would want to share until his last day.