Hey guys! It's time for another flash fiction. This one is quite random and not part of a series at all, but I'm going to drop it here and hope y'all enjoy!

“Why are you still here?” Kinsey ducked as something crashed beyond her.

Nathin’s eyes were cold. “As it turns out, Princess, I’ve been charged with escorting you to safety. This castle is about to get captured and I’m not leaving you here to face that alone.”

“My father is not going to let this castle fall!” She strode over to him, rage burning in her chest, and reached out to shove him back.

He caught her wrist. His hands were strong as steel. “Princess, I need you to listen to me. This is not about your competency.” His voice dropped to a soft volume, and Kinsey lost the will to fight against him. He’d held her before, a long time before, in a wildly different way.

“What is it?” she whispered. “Don’t say my safety. You don’t care about that. Just your own.”

Nathin flinched like she’d struck him and let go of her hand. She shivered, suddenly chilled.

“You have no idea what I care about,” he whispered, so soft she could barely hear it. “Right now, what I care about is getting you out of here before the enemy comes.”

Kinsey let her eyes flutter closed. Once, she’d trusted his arms completely, and he’d betrayed her. Did she dare to trust him again?

The walls of the castle shuddered. She had no choice.

Opening her eyes, she focused on the depths of his green eyes, not on his jawline or his shaded five o’clock shadow or his broad shoulders. Only focus would get them out of here alive.

“Let’s run,” she said. 

The castle might have been her home, but separated from her father and brother, it felt like a foreign land. They raced through darkened hallways and empty corridors, but the sound of fighting was never far away, and the walls still shuddered. The enemy had inched so much closer in recent days, taking the borders and now drawing right up to the capital. Tears burned her eyes, but she blinked them away. When Nathin reached out his hand, she clutched it. Not for the memories or the sentiment—for the comfort alone.

“I will protect you,” he whispered, and for once, she believed him.

Perhaps it was because she had no choice, but she couldn’t help thinking it was something about his confidence. It had to be. He was cautious and strong, but he had a reason to be. He was the best swordsman in the land. That was why he had become her father’s bodyguard.

That was why she could not fall in love with him.

Shouts rang out behind them.

Nathin glanced back and drew her closer, pressing her into his chest.  His heart pounded through her dress against her back. “They’re close,” he whispered. “Do you trust me?”

Not anymore.

She tipped her head to look up at him. He held her close with one arm and reached down to draw his sword with the other. His jaw was clenched, and there was something in his eyes. Danger. But not danger to her. Danger to any who dared threaten her.

“You should be protecting my father. Why me?” It hardly came out above a whisper.

The shouts drew closer. Nathin sighed.

“Your father told me you took priority above all else,” he said, softly, and then he drew his sword, pushed her in front of himself, and started running.

Kinsey lost track of the turns and the corridors. The castle had never felt this huge. The pounding footsteps were just behind them. There were no tears now. Only resolve, solid as stone in her chest, remained.

She risked a glance back. Three enemy soldiers, black masks obscuring their entire faces into the form of a dark, fanged monster, pursued, their swords drawn and ready. “Nathin,” she gasped.

He drew to a halt and spun, putting himself between her and the attackers. “Retreat, right now,” he said, his voice low and dangerous. “If you leave now, perhaps I will allow you to live.”

The pursuers didn’t retreat. They didn’t even laugh. They charged him, in unison, in complete and utter silence.

Kinsey stumbled back.

Nathin’s sword was a blur and his red cape fluttered. He leapt to meet the first of the attackers, spinning his blade, throwing him back. The man crumpled and Nathin turned to the next. Their swords collided with a clash of steel. The third of the enemies slipped around them, dancing backward as Nathin tried to swipe at him, and started toward Kinsey.

Time slowed down. She backed up, feet tangling in her skirts, and screamed, “Nathin!” This could not be how she died.

Nathin turned back to face her. His body jerked and he bent forward as the enemy’s sword slashed across his chest.

Kinsey’s scream could have rattled the stars. She ran forward, running to meet him before she could lose her nerve. “Nathin!” she screamed again.

Her guardsman dropped to his knees, thrusting his sword upward as he fell. The enemy fell, run through on Nathin’s blade. But that left the third one to deal with.

Kinsey ducked, sliding under the sweep of the enemy soldier’s sword, and leapt to her feet. The fallen man lay at her side. She seized his sword and pointed it at the enemy.

He raised his sword and charged.

She didn’t wait. She stabbed forward. The blade of the enemy flew toward her. She fell back.

Nathin was there, at her side, thrusting the soldier through. The enemy fell to the ground.

He clutched his middle and looked at her with a weary smile. “Bold,” he said.

Kinsey clasped his face between her hands. “You saved me,” she whispered.

“Trust me now?” He let out a soft chuckle.

Warmth swelled within her. She nodded.

“Well, keep doing that. We have a long way to go.” He slipped an arm around her waist. “Let’s get you to safety.”