Chapter 2

 Chapter 2: The Shadowed Princess

The pounding of hooves grew louder as the riders closed in. Ruther stood protectively in front of the farmhouse, his muscles tensed like a drawn bow. His aunt had already hidden inside, clutching her rosary with trembling fingers. But Ruther’s mind was on Hansara—Harika—who was now hidden in the cellar.

Dust clouded the air as four black-cloaked figures leapt off their horses and drew short curved blades. Their faces were covered, but the cold cruelty in their movements revealed their purpose. Assassins.

"Who are you people?" Ruther called out, gripping his axe, the only weapon nearby. "This is private land. Get off."

They didn’t answer. One of them stepped forward, twirling the blade once.

"We’re not here for you, farm boy. Step aside."

Ruther didn’t move. Instead, he shifted his stance, lowering his center of gravity. “Then you’ll have to go through me.”

The first attacker lunged. The farm boy dodged to the side, swinging the axe with surprising speed. Years of chopping wood and training with old generals on border patrols kicked in with instinct. The axe struck the man’s side with a sickening crack, sending him tumbling into the dirt.

The next two came together. Ruther rolled under a blade swipe, catching one assassin’s leg and yanking him down. He twisted the wrist of another and knocked his blade free. Blood mixed with dust.

When the fourth one lunged with precision, Ruther gritted his teeth and met the blade head-on with the flat of his axe. Sparks danced. With a final, vicious arc, he drove the weapon into the man’s shoulder. Silence fell.

Hansara had peeked through the cellar door crack and seen everything.

When the battle ended, Ruther stood in the quiet yard, panting and blood-spattered. He wiped the sweat from his brow, dazed.

The cellar door creaked open. Hansara stepped out, her expression unreadable.

“Are you alright?” she asked, voice tight.

He nodded. “Yeah. They wanted you, didn’t they?”

She hesitated. The pause was subtle, but Ruther noticed. Then she nodded.

“I suppose I can’t lie to you anymore,” she said softly. “I am Harika Rivera Simonsenth. The daughter of Queen Eliria. The shadowed princess.”

Ruther blinked, absorbing the weight of her words. “I knew you were special... but a princess?”

Harika smiled faintly, brushing her hair behind one ear. “It’s not a title I wear with pride. My family... they tried to kill me. Those men were sent by someone from the court.”

“I figured.” Ruther looked down at the fallen assassins. “They made a mistake coming here.”

A spark of admiration flared in Harika’s crimson eyes. She took a step closer. “You’re brave. Strong. Loyal.”

“I protect my own,” Ruther said simply. “If they come again, I’ll be ready.”

Harika studied him for a moment. Then, she placed a hand on his arm. “I don’t want to go back to that palace. I just want peace. Freedom.”

Ruther’s gaze softened. “Then you’ll have it. I promise. We’ll keep you safe.”

But behind her solemn nod, Harika’s mind whirred. Ruther was more than just a protector—he was a weapon. Honest. Beloved by the villagers. Fierce. Loyal. Dangerous in the right hands.

She smiled, this time warmer. “Thank you, Ruther. You don’t know what this means to me.”

And so, the seeds were planted. As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden veil over the bloodied yard, Harika knew the game had begun. She would befriend him, draw him close. He would never suspect the role she intended for him in her grand design.

But for now, she played the innocent—gentle and wounded. And Ruther, ever the honest heart, believed every word.

To be continued...