A Quest To Woo the Prince

Eleanor sighed as she sank onto the cold stone bench in the servants' courtyard. The evening breeze was cool against her skin, carrying with it the faint scent of lavender from the palace gardens. Her body ached from the hunting trip, and her mind reeled with the events of the day. Adrian's piercing gaze, his accusatory questions, and the mysterious mark on her palm all swirled in her thoughts. She traced the faint glow on her hand with her fingertips, her chest tightening at the memory of how the light had burst forth.

The System had been quiet since their return, leaving her to puzzle through its cryptic warnings alone. Still, there were no answers—only more questions.

The sound of muffled crying drew her attention. She turned her head toward the shadowed corner of the courtyard, where a figure hunched over, their shoulders trembling. Squinting in the dim light, Eleanor recognized the servant as a young stable boy named Peter. His cheek was streaked with tears, and his hands were wrapped around his leg, which was swollen and bruised.

Without hesitation, Eleanor rose and approached him. "Peter?" she said gently, kneeling beside him. "What happened?"

Peter startled at her presence, quickly wiping his face with his sleeve. "M-my lady," he stammered, avoiding her gaze. "It's nothing. I'll be fine."

Eleanor frowned, her heart aching at the sight of him trying to downplay his pain. "That doesn't look like nothing. Let me see."

Peter hesitated, glancing around nervously. "I can't trouble you, my lady. I'm just a servant."

"And I'm just... well, me," Eleanor replied with a small smile. "Let me help."

After a moment's reluctance, Peter nodded, allowing Eleanor to examine his leg. The bruise was dark and angry-looking, stretching from his knee to his ankle. She winced at the sight, imagining the pain he must be in.

"What happened?" she asked, her tone soft but firm.

Peter's face reddened, and he mumbled something she couldn't quite catch.

"Peter," she prompted gently.

"I fell," he admitted finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "One of the nobles asked me to bring their horse after the hunt, but the beast got spooked, and I tripped. I didn't mean to..."

Eleanor's brow furrowed. "Did anyone see? Did someone help you?"

Peter shook his head. "No one cared. They just laughed. I—I'll be fine, though. I always am."

The casual cruelty of the nobles struck Eleanor like a blow. Her hands clenched into fists at her sides before she forced herself to relax. Anger wouldn't help Peter now.

"Wait here," she said, standing abruptly. Before he could protest, she disappeared into the kitchens and returned moments later with a bowl of cool water, a clean cloth, and a small jar of salve. She knelt beside Peter again and set to work, dabbing the bruise with the damp cloth.

Peter's eyes widened. "You don't have to do this, my lady."

"I know," she said simply. "But I want to."

As she worked, she kept her movements gentle, mindful of Peter's winces. "You should have someone look at this properly," she murmured. "You could do serious damage if you don't let it heal."

Peter laughed bitterly. "Who'd care about a stable boy?"

"I would," Eleanor said firmly. "And you should care too. You're just as important as anyone else here."

Peter blinked at her, his expression caught between disbelief and gratitude. "Thank you, my lady."

Eleanor smiled, patting his arm lightly. "There's no need to thank me. You deserve kindness."

From a shadowed alcove overlooking the courtyard, Adrian watched the scene unfold. He had come to the courtyard seeking solitude, his mind heavy with thoughts of the day. Instead, he had stumbled upon Eleanor, her voice low and soothing as she tended to the servant boy's injuries.

At first, he considered walking away. He wasn't in the mood for another round of Eleanor's incessant optimism. But something about the way she spoke—her words so earnest, her touch so careful—kept him rooted in place.

Adrian had seen countless nobles feign kindness when it suited them. Charity at a banquet, coin tossed to beggars for the sake of appearances. But this? This was different. Eleanor wasn't putting on a show; she didn't even know anyone was watching. Her compassion seemed genuine, and it stirred something uncomfortable in Adrian's chest.

He leaned against the cold stone wall, his arms crossed as he listened.

"You're a strange one, my lady," Peter said after a moment, his tone lightening. "Most nobles wouldn't look twice at someone like me."

"Well, then I suppose I'm not like most nobles," Eleanor replied with a wry grin. "And for the record, I'm not particularly good at being noble anyway."

Peter chuckled, the sound soft but genuine. "I think you're better at it than most."

Eleanor's laughter joined his, warm and unrestrained. Adrian found himself lingering on the sound. It was rare to hear such unguarded joy in the palace, where every interaction was laced with ulterior motives and hidden agendas.

For a fleeting moment, Adrian allowed himself to wonder what it would be like to trust someone as openly as Peter seemed to trust Eleanor. To believe in someone's sincerity without suspicion or doubt.

He shook the thought away. Trust was a luxury he couldn't afford, especially not with someone as enigmatic as Eleanor. And yet, as he watched her bandage the servant boy's leg with a strip of clean cloth, he felt the first crack in his armor. A faint, nagging voice whispered that maybe—just maybe—there was more to her than he had allowed himself to see.

When Eleanor finished tending to Peter's injury, she stood and helped him to his feet. "Promise me you'll rest that leg," she said, her tone half-stern, half-teasing.

Peter nodded, his expression brighter than it had been earlier. "I will, my lady. Thank you."

Eleanor waved him off with a smile. As Peter hobbled away, she remained in the courtyard, her gaze drifting up to the stars that now dotted the evening sky. The faint glow of her palm caught her attention again, and she clenched her fist, hiding the mark.

"You don't have to hide it."

The voice startled her, and she whirled around to find Adrian standing a few paces away. His expression was as guarded as ever, but there was a softness in his eyes she hadn't seen before.

"Hide what?" she asked, forcing her voice to remain steady.

Adrian stepped closer, his gaze dropping briefly to her hand before meeting her eyes again. "The part of you that cares," he said quietly. "Not many would do what you just did."

Eleanor blinked, taken aback by the unexpected compliment. "He needed help. It was the right thing to do."

"Most people would have walked away," Adrian said, his tone thoughtful. "Especially someone in your position."

Eleanor tilted her head, studying him. "Why does that surprise you?"

Adrian didn't answer immediately. Instead, he turned his gaze to the stars, his expression contemplative. "Because I've spent most of my life surrounded by people who only look out for themselves. Trust doesn't come easily when you've been let down enough times."

The vulnerability in his words caught Eleanor off guard. For a moment, the prince she had seen on the hunting trip—the stern, suspicious leader—was replaced by a man weighed down by his own fears and doubts.

"Maybe," she said softly, "you just haven't met the right people yet."

Adrian's lips twitched into the faintest hint of a smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Maybe."

The sound of distant laughter from the palace brought them back to reality. Adrian straightened, his usual guarded demeanor slipping back into place. "Get some rest," he said, his tone brusque once more. "Tomorrow will be another long day."

Eleanor watched as he turned and walked away, his figure disappearing into the shadows. Her chest felt heavy, but not with the weight of failure. No, this time it was something else—something lighter, more hopeful. She had seen a glimpse of the man behind the mask, and it gave her reason to believe that her mission wasn't as impossible as it seemed.

As Eleanor returned to her chambers, the System's voice echoed in her mind: "Congratulations. Progress detected. New challenge unlocked." But the tone was colder than usual, sending a shiver down her spine.