A Smile That Reached Her Heart

Evander sat alone in his room, the silence pressing in around him like a physical weight. His hand unconsciously brushed against the wound—a dull ache reminding him of Harmony’s closeness, of the warmth she’d offered. His gaze wandered to the night sky outside the window, yet in his mind, something unexpected surfaced.

Harmony. Her eyes, soft with gentle worry, had looked at him with an intensity that unnerved him. Her careful, almost hesitant movements as she tended to his wound, as if afraid to hurt him—or herself. The slight trembling of her hands while she tried to help. And her smile… small, yet warm, filled with an understanding he rarely encountered.

Evander felt something he had never wanted to admit—vulnerability, awakened by her presence. Normally, he would have looked away, ignored such feelings, to avoid showing weakness. But now… now he merely sat, the walls he had spent decades building starting to crack, though his exterior remained cold and composed.

“Why… why can’t I just pull away?” he murmured to himself. “Why does something so small, so delicate, awaken my heart?”

He drew a slow, steady breath, attempting to marshal his thoughts. He told himself that emotions were a dangerous luxury, something he could not afford—war and duty left no space for such weakness.

“I mustn’t…” he whispered to the empty room. “If I show anything… if I let it move me… it’s weakness. Even though she always says it’s not…”

Despite his attempts at stoicism, his thoughts wandered to Harmony. Her gentleness that had shattered his defenses did not fade. Her words about lives… lost lives… echoed in his chest. And suddenly, he realized she had unknowingly opened his eyes to something he hadn’t felt in years: empathy, pain, fragility.

“How… how can someone so fragile be so strong?” he murmured. His hand still traced the faint line of his wound, seeking a reminder that she was real, that she was there—not merely a memory or an illusion.

And beneath the cold mask he wore for the world, he felt something new stir: the desire to protect her—not as a prince bound by duty, but as someone who truly cared.

His gaze softened for a moment, then quickly returned to its usual, unyielding exterior. But inwardly, he knew the fortress of decades had a crack now. Harmony had done something impossible—she had broken the ice around his heart.

Harmony sat by her window, the soft moonlight spilling across the meadow outside. Her hair fell gently over her face, hands folded in her lap. In the quiet, she listened to her own breathing, thoughts swirling like wind through the trees.

“Why does this helplessness hurt so much…?” she whispered. “And why can’t I stop thinking about him? About Evander… about what he said… his embrace…”

She recalled the moments she had tended to his wounds. Every careful touch, every fleeting moment of vulnerability she caught—a secret she alone had seen—remained etched in her heart. Despite his cold exterior, despite his words of war and duty, she felt a fragile strength hidden beneath, a side he had never shown anyone else.

Harmony exhaled slowly and gazed out at the moonlit night. Tears slipped quietly down her cheeks. “I mustn’t… but I can’t stop,” she murmured. “All of this… and him… there’s something in him, something that tells me I have to be brave. That I can’t give up. Even if it’s hard…”

The silence of her room became a quiet companion. Harmony knew she had to face her feelings, to understand what it meant that someone so distant and unyielding had revealed a moment of vulnerability… just to her.

The next day, the air was fresh and calm, though the courtyard of the castle already echoed with the clashing of swords. Evander stood in the center of the training ground, dressed in dark attire that allowed freedom of movement while radiating discipline and power. Each motion was precise, almost flawless—strikes sharp, defenses solid, feet light and balanced.

From afar, he appeared perfect, cold, unwavering. But for those attuned to small details, there was something else: the way he occasionally clenched his teeth against pain, the slight shrug of his shoulder, a subtle reminder of memory—pain, vulnerability, and the moments when Harmony had tried to help him.

As he moved through his routine, his thoughts drifted toward her. Her careful touches, her gentle smile, her determination to help… It distracted him, but it didn’t defeat him. He continued strike after strike, as though each movement was a way to regulate the unrest inside.

Harmony watched from the edge of the courtyard, hesitant, yet unable to look away. His focus, his strength, and the precision of his every move captivated and unsettled her at once. Each swing of his sword, each step revealed discipline, yet she could sense the tension beneath—the same vulnerability she had glimpsed the night before.

She didn’t want to disturb his training, yet she couldn’t stay unnoticed. Occasionally, she moved closer, watching his movements, how his body responded to exertion. Beneath the disciplined exterior lay the part of him she had come to know—fragile, yet hidden behind walls of perfection.

Evander noticed her, yet continued his routine.

The silence between them carried weight; no words were spoken, but the quiet presence stirred something new, delicate, yet undeniable.

Evander finished his series of strikes and slowly lowered his sword. His eyes lifted toward Harmony. For a moment, he paused—and in that gaze, usually cold and restrained, something softened.

He offered her a gentle, fleeting smile, soft and almost shy, as if it belonged only to her.

Harmony felt heat rise to her cheeks. »He gave me a gentle smile.« She realized she had stared at him longer than she intended, and instinctively stepped back, trying to hide her sudden flush.

Evander noticed immediately. The faint pink creeping across her face, the slight falter in her stance—every small detail registered in his mind. A quiet awareness stirred in him, something he rarely allowed himself to feel: a protective, almost tender concern. Her vulnerability, her instinctive reaction—it pulled at him in a way he hadn’t expected.

»She’s… flustered. That small gesture, the way she pulled back… it’s almost like she’s afraid I’ll see too much. But I do see. And I can’t… I can’t look away,« he thought, his pulse quickening just slightly. For a brief moment, silence hung between them, filled with unspoken recognition. Harmony’s reaction had not gone unnoticed, and Evander’s usually composed gaze lingered just a fraction longer. He didn’t speak, didn’t move, but internally, he acknowledged it—a tiny, fragile thread of connection forming between them, delicate yet undeniable.

Harmony’s mind raced as she took a step back, her fingers curling slightly at her sides. »Did he see… did he notice how flustered I am?« Her heart pounded, warm and fast, as if betraying her attempts at calm. The corners of her chest tightening with a mixture of fear, awe, and something tender—something she had only just begun to recognize.

Unable to bear the intensity of the moment, Harmony suddenly spun on her heel and bolted away. Her heart raced as she ran, each step a mixture of embarrassment and exhilaration. Evander’s eyes followed her, still lingering on the spot where she had stood, his expression unreadable, but the trace of that fleeting smile remaining, like a secret only they had shared.