Nyra returned home just as the city's night lanterns flickered to life. The warmth of the small household contrasted sharply with the weight of the day's events. The scent of freshly baked bread and roasted meat filled the air as her mother set the table, and her father—Commander Daelus, one of Velmor's strongest warriors and the man in charge of Velmor's army—removed his armor with a tired sigh.
They sat down to eat, but the conversation quickly turned to the one thing on everyone's mind—what had happened today.
Her father took a deep breath before speaking, shaking his head.
"Unbelievable. Some reckless fool actually had the audacity to mock the Son of Medusa—Raezel. Do they not understand? Do they have a death wish? The entire kingdom of Velmor was one wrong word away from being erased!"
Her mother nodded in agreement. "It's madness. How could anyone be so blind to the danger? Raezel may have inherited Medusa's terrifying power, but that girl—whoever she was—treated him like some common traveler. Does she not value her life?"
Nyra, chewing her food slowly, remained silent. But a smirk formed on her lips as she listened to her parents unknowingly berate her.
Then, as her father took a sip of wine and her mother sliced through a piece of meat, she casually placed her spoon down and spoke.
"It was me."
The room fell silent.
Her father stopped mid-sip.
Her mother's knife froze in mid-air.
Both turned their heads toward her in slow, stiff movements—as if they had just witnessed a ghost appear at their table.
"What do you mean... it was you?" her father finally asked, his voice hesitant.
Nyra leaned back slightly, stretching her arms. "I mean exactly what I said. The girl who spent the entire day with Raezel—the one who casually talked to him, the one who mocked him for his pretty looks, the one who nearly caused the fall of Velmor?"
She tapped her own chest.
"That was me, Father." (Like she had just done something honorable 😑.)
Her mother dropped her fork.
Her father's face turned pale, as if all the blood had drained from his body. He gripped the table, looking as if he might pass out.
"You… You—!" he stammered, unable to find words.
Nyra, enjoying their reactions a little too much, smiled sweetly.
"Oh, and by the way, I invited him for breakfast tomorrow."
Her father shot up from his chair.
"You did WHAT?!"
Her mother gasped in horror. "Nyra, are you insane?! We are but simple soldiers and common folk! How can we host someone like him? What if he takes offense at something? What if this makes Medusa angry—that we were unworthy hosts for her son?! Do you know what will happen to us? WHAT WILL HAPPEN TO VELMOR?!"
Nyra stood up from her seat, pushing her chair back.
"He's coming whether you like it or not. Best you prepare something nice." She smirked.
With that, she turned and left for her room, leaving her parents in stunned silence.
Her father slumped back into his chair, rubbing his face with both hands.
"We are doomed."
—
The morning light crept through the small window of Nyra's home as she, still groggy from the previous night's events, prepared to face what seemed like an endless sea of uncertainty.
Her parents, still in disbelief that someone like Raezel would grace their humble home, were hard at work in the kitchen.
Her mother, chopping vegetables with a furrowed brow, spoke first, the anxiety thick in her voice.
"I don't understand it. Why would someone like him—Raezel, the Son of Medusa—want to come to our house? It's not like we're royalty or even respected soldiers."
Her father, stirring a pot of stew, shook his head. "Maybe he forgot about Nyra. It's too much to believe. How could someone like him take interest in a normal girl like her? He must've been mistaken."
They both exchanged uneasy glances, neither fully convinced that Raezel would actually show up.
"You're right," her mother said, wiping her hands on her apron. "He's likely too busy or far too important. He's not coming. I'm sure of it."
They nodded to each other, their words becoming more reassuring with every passing moment.
The tension in the room seemed to fade as they both agreed:
Raezel would not come.
And yet…
A soft knock came at the door.
Nyra's mother froze.
Her father stopped stirring the pot.
Nyra, who had been lounging against the wall, now looked at them in mild amusement.
Her parents exchanged a panicked look, clearly unsure what to do.
They had agreed, after all—Raezel would never come.
But the knock came again.
Nyra pushed herself off the wall with a smirk. "I'll get it."
She walked over to the door, her steps light and casual.
With each step, her parents seemed to grow tenser.
When Nyra opened the door, her smile faltered only slightly as she saw the two figures standing before her.
Raezel stood tall, his presence as imposing as ever.
Beside him, with his arms folded casually, was the stoic and silent Nihaga.
Nyra blinked twice, then tilted her head. "Well, well, I guess you did show up."
She said it so casually that it almost seemed like she hadn't just forced her parents to nearly lose their minds the night before.
Raezel didn't respond right away. He merely looked at her with a strange mix of amusement and indifference.
Nihaga, on the other hand, nodded curtly to Nyra as a sign of respect—though his eyes were constantly on Raezel, almost as if protecting him from something or someone.
Her parents, still in shock, remained in the kitchen, staring at each other with wide eyes, utterly speechless.
"Are you going to invite us in?" Raezel finally asked, his voice calm and cool as always, though with a hint of amusement.
Nyra didn't need to say anything else.
With a slight bow of her head, she stepped aside.
"Come on in," she said with the same nonchalant attitude that had gotten her into trouble the day before.
"I'm sure the stew will be ready in no time."
Her mother and father were now visibly trembling, standing in the background as their two guests stepped inside.
The atmosphere in the room shifted instantly.
Raezel and Nihaga entered with a quiet elegance that made it feel as if the air itself had thickened.
"Don't mind them," Nyra said casually, gesturing to her parents, who had yet to speak. "They're just in shock."
Her father finally found his voice.
"P-Prince Raezel… it's an honor," he stammered, bowing low, trying to mask his nervousness.
Raezel simply smirked.