Blades & Lies

The streets of Veydrith's capital were alive with the hum of the evening crowd. Merchants bellowed their final calls before nightfall, peddling everything from silks to spices. Nobles strolled through the stone-paved roads in clusters, their laughter mingling with the flickering lanterns that lined the streets. Knights patrolled in calculated intervals, their polished armor gleaming under the glow of the setting sun. Amidst this chaos, Lady Evelyn Varcrest moved with purpose, her jaw set, her eyes scanning the bustling market for the quickest escape route.

Because she was being hunted. Again.

"Lady Evelyn! Please, a moment of your time!"

She barely had a second to react before Lord Byron Malford emerged from the crowd, dressed in an embroidered coat that was far too gaudy for his stature. His brown hair was slicked back, a few strands clinging desperately to his forehead, and in his hands—cursed things—was another oversized bouquet of roses.

Evelyn clenched her jaw. This was the third time this week.

"Lord Byron." She forced a polite smile, though her fingers twitched to reach for the hilt of her sword. "What an unexpected—"

"You haven't answered my letters! I feared they were misplaced, so I took it upon myself to—" He extended the bouquet toward her. "Please, accept my humble gift as a token of my unwavering devotion."

The surrounding market-goers began to take notice. Some whispered behind their hands, others merely watched with idle amusement, enjoying the free entertainment that had somehow become her personal nightmare. Among them, she spotted Sir Edric, one of her fellow knights, smirking as he nudged another soldier.

Evelyn's patience thinned like a blade worn from battle.

And then she saw him.

Standing at the edge of the market, effortlessly blending into the background like a shadow, was Damien Aldric.

The infamous Shadow Knight. The kingdom's most elite and secretive operative. The man she had spent years despising for reasons both rational and petty. Dressed in dark attire that clung to his tall frame, his coat fluttered slightly in the evening breeze. His unreadable silver eyes assessed the situation with a detached amusement, his arms crossed lazily as if he had all the time in the world.

Something in Evelyn snapped.

Before she could think it through, she strode across the distance, grabbed Damien by the collar, and yanked him forward. He stiffened, clearly caught off guard, but before he could utter a word, she turned sharply to face Byron with the most triumphant smirk she could muster.

"Lord Byron, I'd like you to meet my boyfriend."

The world stood still.

Byron's jaw dropped, as if she had just declared her allegiance to a rival kingdom. A nearby merchant nearly knocked over his own fruit stand. Somewhere in the distance, a noblewoman gasped audibly.

"…Excuse me?" Damien finally spoke, his voice dripping with skepticism.

Evelyn tightened her grip on his coat, praying to every deity in existence that he wouldn't ruin this for her.

"You heard me," she said, feigning an easy confidence she didn't quite feel. "Boyfriend. Which means you can stop with the roses, the letters, and the constant interruptions to my day."

Byron's face twisted in disbelief. "This is absurd! You and Sir Damien have never once—"

"We've kept it private," Evelyn cut in smoothly. "You know how it is. Duty, responsibilities… sneaking away for stolen moments when we can." She sighed dramatically for effect. "It's been difficult."

She felt Damien's gaze on her—assessing, calculating—before, to her absolute horror, he slung an arm around her shoulders with far too much ease.

"Well, love," he drawled, voice laced with mock fondness, "I suppose the secret's out."

Evelyn stiffened. He was enjoying this. Of course he was.

Byron paled. "I don't believe it."

Damien chuckled, low and amused, and—without warning—tilted his head closer to hers. Evelyn barely contained the instinct to elbow him in the ribs as he murmured, just loud enough for Byron to hear, "I could kiss you right now if that would convince him."

She felt the heat rise to her face. This absolute bastard.

Before she could decide between throttling Damien or letting Byron suffer in doubt, the noble scoffed, stepping back. "This changes nothing," he declared stiffly. "If your affections are genuine, I shall respect them… for now."

Evelyn didn't breathe until he disappeared into the crowd. The moment he was out of sight, she shrugged Damien's arm off her shoulders and spun to face him, glowering.

"You absolute menace," Damien muttered first, grinning. "Do you have any idea what you just did?"

Evelyn exhaled sharply. "Yes. I saved myself from another week of Byron's relentless courting. You're welcome."

"Oh, I should be thanking you," he mused, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "I mean, an official, public declaration? Evelyn Varcrest, devoted girlfriend to the Shadow Knight? Imagine the stories."

Evelyn groaned. "If you breathe a word of this to anyone—"

"Too late," he interrupted, nodding toward the gossiping nobles nearby. "Half the capital will know before sundown."

She followed his gaze and nearly swore aloud. Noblewomen were already whispering behind their fans, knights exchanging glances, and a group of merchants looking far too entertained for her liking.

"Well…" Damien clapped his hands together. "This is about to get interesting."

Evelyn pinched the bridge of her nose. "This was supposed to be a one-time thing."

"Evidently not." Damien's silver eyes gleamed with mischief. "Looks like you're stuck with me now."