Chapter 4 - A King's Protection
The training began the next day,
not with books,
but with steel.
Adrian took me to a secluded part of the estate,
a gym built into the stone foundations.
"If you are going to live in my world,"
"you must know how to kill in it,"
he said,
tossing me a lightweight handgun.
It felt heavy and alien in my hands,
a tool of destruction I never wanted to touch.
"I don't want to kill anyone,"
I argued,
dropping the weapon onto the mat.
Adrian stepped into my space,
his presence overwhelming,
his eyes flashing with an inner fire.
"The world doesn't care what you want,"
"Lena."
"It only cares what you can take."
"Marcus tried to break you,"
"because he saw you as a victim."
"I see you as a weapon."
He picked up the gun and placed it back in my hand,
his fingers wrapping around mine to guide my grip.
"Feel the weight,"
"balance the breath,"
"and focus on the target."
We spent hours there,
the sound of gunfire echoing against the stone walls.
He was a demanding teacher,
unyielding and stern,
but there was a hidden tenderness in the way he corrected my stance.
Every time I hit the bullseye,
I felt a surge of something new,
a spark of defiance that had been buried under years of abuse.
At night,
we sat by the fire,
and he told me stories of my mother.
He told me how she had once saved his life during a riot,
how she was the only person who could make the Viscari men laugh.
"She was a light in this dark city,"
"and they hated her for it,"
he said,
staring into the flames.
"Why are you doing this for me?"
I asked one night,
the question hanging heavy between us.
"Is it just because of my mother?"
Adrian turned to me,
his expression unreadable in the flickering light.
"At first,"
"yes."
"But now?"
He paused,
his gaze moving over my face as if searching for something.
"Now,"
"I'm doing it because you are the only thing in this world,"
"that doesn't have a price tag."
I reached out,
my hand trembling as I touched his cheek.
He didn't pull away.
Instead,
he leaned into my touch,
closing his eyes for a brief,
vulnerable second.
The silence between us was no longer empty,
it was filled with the weight of things unsaid.
But the peace was a thin veil,
May you like
and outside the gates,
the wolves were gathering.
