Sasha remained beside Aylin as she finished her meal, his gaze unwavering as she ate. His presence was solid, grounding, though he spoke little. When she hesitated between bites, he simply arched his brow, silently encouraging her to continue. It was a subtle, undeniable command, one she found herself obeying without resistance.
She frowned as she set down her spoon and looked around the now-empty space. "There was no need for your men to eat elsewhere," she murmured, looking up at Sasha. "I do not want to impose on them."
Sasha's dark eyes flashed with something unreadable before responding, "It is not an imposition. They follow orders."
Aylin held his gaze for a long moment before shaking her head slightly. "Still, next time, let them stay. "I would rather eat alone in the room than have them leave."
She was quiet for a moment, watching him. There was something in the way he stood, strong, unyielding, but she couldn't shake the worry that lingered in her chest. "How are you?" she asked softly. "You were wounded before. I never got the chance to ask."
Sasha's expression shifted slightly, but something flickered behind his dark eyes. "I am fine."
Aylin didn't believe him entirely, but she didn't push. Not yet. She could not help but quietly observe him, noting the tension in his stance and the way his shoulders appeared a little too rigid. Her chest tightened with worry. "Are you sure?" she pressed gently.
Sasha's gaze darkened slightly. "You should worry for yourself. Your back is bruised." His fingers brushed against the sleeve of her dress, their touch light but deliberate. "You barely flinched earlier, but I can tell. The wounds haven't healed completely. I will ask Olga to bring you to the healers."
Aylin stiffened slightly but didn't look away. "I've had worse."
Sasha's jaw tightened. "That doesn't mean you should dismiss it."
She exhaled, recognizing the edge of concern in his tone. "And you shouldn't dismiss yours either."
When she set down her spoon, Sasha stood and extended his hand toward her. "Come," he said simply.
She glanced at Olga, who remained impassive, before placing her fingers in his palm. His grip was warm, firm, but not forceful. He wasn't dragging her; he was leading her.
"I want to show you the fortress myself," Sasha explained as they stepped out of the dining hall. "Where I spend my time, where you'll be able to find me."
Aylin's brow furrowed slightly. "Why?"
Sasha glanced down at her, a flicker of something unreadable in his dark eyes. "So you won't get lost."
It was a simple answer, but something about the way he said it made her stomach tighten. She did not argue as he led her through the fortress, Olga keeping a respectful distance.
They passed through several hallways lined with banners and torches, the stone walls heavy with the aroma of firewood and aged leather. Sasha moved with effortless familiarity, his long strides unhurried yet purposeful.
First, he brought her to his study. The large wooden doors creaked as he pushed them open, revealing a chamber filled with bookshelves, maps spread across a long table, and a heavy chair near the fireplace. The air smelled like parchment and ink, as well as strategy and decision-making.
"This is where I work when I am not at the training grounds," he explained as he stepped inside. "If you need me, you can find me here."
Aylin let her gaze wander across the space. The room was cluttered, but not disorganized. In the midst of chaos, there was a sense of control, as if the mind was constantly moving. She moved closer to the table, her fingers brushing against the rough surface of a well-worn map.
"You spend a lot of time here," she commented.
Sasha leaned against the table, observing her. "More than I should."
She looked up at him, but he said nothing more. Instead, he turned and motioned for her to follow.
They moved through another corridor, emerging into the training grounds. The open area was packed with warriors, some sparring with wooden weapons and others engaging in hand-to-hand combat. The scent of sweat and exertion filled the air. Men paused as Sasha entered, nodding in respect before returning to their drills.
"This is where I train," Sasha said. "And where the fortress men sharpen their skills."
Aylin watched as one man was thrown to the ground, his opponent standing over him with a victorious smirk. The defeated warrior grumbled before getting back up, determination burning in his stance.
"Do you train with them?" she asked.
Sasha smirked slightly. "When they can keep up."
Aylin could easily imagine him dominating every match. His mere presence commanded respect, and his strength was likely unrivaled. Yet she saw no arrogance in his stance, only certainty.
He then led her through the central hall, where warriors gathered when not training. The space was large, with thick wooden beams and an open hearth. Tables were scattered throughout, with some occupied by men having quiet conversations or tending to weapons.
"This is where you'll find me when I'm not in my study or on the field," Sasha told her. "If you need anything, someone here will get word to me."
Aylin nodded slowly, absorbing everything. She expected Sasha to be more private, tucking her away and returning to his duties. Instead, he drew her into his world, allowing her to see the places he claimed as his own. It was... unexpected.
She looked at Olga, who kept a blank expression as she followed them. Aylin didn't know what to make of the older woman's silence.
Just as she was about to ask another question, a voice called out from the side. "Mother?"
Aylin turned and saw a young woman standing near the hall's entrance. She was tall, with a lean but strong frame. Her light brown hair fell in loose waves over her shoulders, and her green eyes, which resembled Olga's, shone with sharp intelligence.
"Aimee," Olga acknowledged with a nod.
The younger woman approached, her gaze flicking between Aylin and Sasha. Her expression was not hostile, but curious. Aimee lowered her head slightly in acknowledgement of Sasha, a subtle bow to her lord, before returning her gaze to the newcomer.
"You are the one causing the rumors," Aimee mused, looking Aylin over with interest. "The Lord's mate."
Aylin stiffened slightly, but before she could respond, Sasha's firm, unyielding voice cut through the silence. "She is."
Aimee raised an eyebrow, but kept her words to herself. Instead, she turned to Olga. "We need to restock the herbs for the healers."
Olga nodded. "I will take care of it."
Just then, another voice rang through the hall. "My Lord."
Sasha turned, his expression hardening as Roland approached. The older warrior inclined his head respectfully. "You are needed."
Aylin felt the shift in Sasha instantly. His posture stiffened, his attention narrowing.
He turned to Aylin, his hand brushing against hers for the briefest moment. "Stay with Olga."
Then, without saying anything else, he strode away, his presence disappearing down the hall as Roland directed him to whatever matter required his attention.
Aylin exhaled slowly, feeling the weight of Sasha's absence more than she had anticipated.
"Well," Aimee said, folding her arms. "That was interesting."
Aylin turned to face her, realizing that, for the first time since arriving, she was alone with the women of the fortress.