A Prince's Quiet Camp
Arkin found himself alone in the empty tent.
The steaming pile of elephant dung still loomed on one side, releasing a thick, damp scent of fermenting grass that somehow felt strangely comforting. It wasn't exactly a palace, but in the silence that had settled after Serena stormed off, Arkin found a strange peace. For the first time in days, there was no one telling him what to do, what to say, what to be. Finally, he could breathe.
Washing this giant creature down and pouring water over its back was a daunting task, but he didn't mind. Serena would never have helped anyway, and the sooner he finished, the sooner they could move on.
He was in the middle of grabbing the brush when the elephant's trunk gave his waist a light tap.
“Ah... hurry up, would you?”
Arkin let out a wry smile. No one was interfering, so the beast was giving orders now. He reached out and rubbed the elephant's back with genuine care, using a branch dipped in mud.
Now he could do as he pleased. He plunged the branch into the mud and scrubbed vigorously. The spontaneous fury he had unleashed earlier on Serena had left him feeling strangely light. Years of suppressed resentment and frustration were finally spilling out, and it felt good.
If only he had done this years ago...
Being the perfect heir to Solinar had been like wearing shackles on his hands and feet. The flawless prince, the son who never disappointed, the one whose every movement had to be impeccable in the eyes of others. An ideal of elegance that required boundless tolerance and infinite generosity. He had to smile graciously even when he was insulted to his face. Such things couldn't be achieved through effort alone.
But the people of Solinar expected exactly that from him. So he had endured and suppressed it all this time, consciously holding himself in check. Living in ill-fitting clothes for so many years had drained every last drop of strength from his body.
“Hey. Do you know who you're being cared for by?”
Arkin sighed and jammed the branch deeper into the mud. The elephant seemed to understand him, letting out a low “Pffft” through its trunk.
“I'm the prince of Solinar. The one destined to become king. Even if I'm scrubbing your back right now, I won't be someone who's treated poorly wherever I go. Remember that.”
Prince of Solinar. Successor of the Willow Forest. At least, that's what he had been for years. Who knew what the future held in this uncertain situation.
Pffft.
The elephant let out a deep, almost conversational rumble.
“Why did you do it earlier?”
Arkin patted the elephant's back with the brush and cleaned every inch of its body thoroughly, his forehead already soaked with sweat.
“Who knows? I just felt like it. I wanted to unload whatever was on my mind.”
Whether the elephant understood or not, it was the only way to feel better right now.
As the high of his outburst faded, reality slowly crept back in. How was he going to handle the aftermath? He had blatantly ignored his father's command to treat Serena with the utmost courtesy for the sake of friendly relations with Lakelium. Remembering her last expression, Arkin realized that the bridge between the two kingdoms had been burned to the ground.
“Hah...”
No matter how long he scrubbed, the elephant's body remained an endless mountain of rock. Just as Arkin was striking his waist, a soft, rolling chuckle came from behind him.
Arkin immediately recognized the owner of that clear, watery laugh. After a moment's hesitation, he set the brush aside and peeked outside by lifting the tent flap slightly, hiding his face.
The moment Nefetia Himedin came into view, his cheeks flushed with heat. The distance was considerable, but he couldn't risk even a glance. He lowered the flap a little and hid his body again.
But he couldn't tear his eyes away. Nefetia was holding a muddy branch, giggling and playfully poking at things in the courtyard bathed in midday sunlight. Her bright, cheerful laugh was infectious, and her smile was utterly charming.
She laughed while watching Stella and Amalfi. Arkin was surprised to see Petra sitting so naturally right beside her.
When had they become so close?
The moment Arkin had first seen Nefetia, he had assumed the arrogance unique to Kepet would be her downfall. He had been certain she would ruin the mood for everyone throughout the training tournament with that attitude. But only a few days had passed, and she had already adapted so quickly. She had forgotten the mistakes of the first day and become someone else entirely. This must truly be the real Nefetia Himedin.
His gaze kept drifting to her. He watched her intently. The way her shoulders bounced slightly when she laughed, how she raised a hand to the person beside her, how she occasionally brushed her hair back, the cute dimple that appeared on her nose when she smiled. Someday, when he was an old, weary king living a life filled with hardship, he wanted to recall this memory alone.
Even the moment she had entered his nightmare, saving him from the flames.
Tap. Tap.
The wrinkled trunk of the beast tapped Arkin's backside. He snapped out of his daze, turned to the elephant, and found its eyes staring at him with a knowing look, as if warning him to behave.
“Ah, sorry. I'll continue.”
Arkin looked at the back of Nefetia, unaware that she was being watched. He closed the tent flap completely with a sigh.
***
After the unexpected intimacy with Nefetia, when Arkin had collapsed from exhaustion after the first bath and sparring and staggered out of the bath, he had been too tired to stand properly, crushed under waves of fatigue.
His body, haunted by nightmares and forcing itself through sleepless nights, was screaming.
The overwhelming drowsiness made his legs wobble, and he finally closed his eyes beneath the olive tree for a brief moment.
By the time the trainees finished breakfast and started climbing the hill, his sleep had been only fleeting.
The moment his eyes closed, as always, the wicked things from his dream attacked relentlessly. Crimson flames burned his skin, the screams of the people tore at his chest. The ash that filled the sky choked his throat, blocking his breath.
The world around his body suddenly fell silent. The raging flames fell still, the acrid smoke dispersed, and fresh air filled his lungs.
“Arkin.”
A gentle hand stroked his cheek and hugged his massive frame, sweeping the sweat-soaked hair from his forehead and pulling him close with slender arms.
“It's all right now. You'll be fine.”
Arkin sensed that the things surrounding him were watching his reaction. The flames, with their red tongues flicking and tasting the air, glared at him and waited. White ash poured down like snowflakes. Through his hazy vision, he recognized Nefetia approaching him. And then it hit him.
This wasn't the first time.
“Hug me. Then you'll be all right.”
Can I follow you? Can I be hugged?
I don't know where you're taking me...
But I want to hold you. Arkin reached out, and she crawled into his arms with a feather-light laugh.
He held her small body tightly and breathed in her sweet, comforting scent. He didn't know what to do next, so he simply breathed her in. Nefetia laughed and pulled him closer by the back of his neck.
“I'll teach you everything. Make me happy, Arkin...”
...The moment their lips were about to meet, Arkin woke up.
“Hurry up and gather the trainees!”
Seneca grumbled irritably while rounding up the trainees, and Draconis, moving slowly, was the first to catch Arkin's eye.
“Arkin, you look tired. You struggled in the early morning, didn't you?”
Elio, who had just arrived from under the tree, offered his hand. Taking the fog prince's hand, Arkin stood up and realized, seeing the back of Nefetia, that he had been dreaming.
The nightmare had started it all, followed by tense, fearful dreams where his heart ached. But Arkin realized something had changed.
Remarkably, energy flowed through his entire body as if a day had passed in an instant. His head felt refreshed, as if he had drunk from the Healing Spring, and his heavy limbs had become light.
For a moment, he even thought, If I could have that dream tonight, I'd sell my soul...
But dreams were just dreams.
What he had seen wasn't the real Nefetia. There was already a clear line drawn between her and him. So... it was nothing. Just a pleasant dream. Arkin had thought so.