Chapter 8: Sternchen von Milchstrasse
MY pain was insignificant compared to the joy of hearing Bern’s reassuring voice, of feeling his soothing touch as we rode to the aid station.
In sharp contrast to the plain canvas, the magical shielding on the medical tent was first class, the doctor top tier. The grievous wounds I had suffered from the salamander’s attack healed before I knew it, no doubt the result of Bern caring for me day and night.
My heart had trembled at the fervor with which he pleaded for my wellbeing. I’d never thought I meant so much to him—the man who never lost his cool, not even against a marauding bear, breaking down utterly and completely. A wave of ecstasy had washed over me. The burns so bad I could barely breathe? I was grateful for them. For a moment I’d even been ready to embrace death. I’d believed that nothing could possibly top that moment of sheer bliss.
Oh, how I scorned my ignorance after experiencing Bern nursing me back to health with undying devotion.
Fast forward a few days after I was initially injured. While in the care of the Eisberk Cavalry Brigade, I was surprised to learn that female soldiers numbered among their ranks. Only men could become knights in the royal capital’s order because putting women’s lives in danger went against the chivalric code.
Yet as I watched them perform their duties in stride, I began to feel that maybe it wasn’t just beefy men who had a place on the battlefield. I asked Bern about them only to learn that their inclusion had been his idea. Interesting, I thought.
Then there was Bern’s magic. Never before had I seen someone enchant others’ weapons without touching them or using a magic circle, but Bern accomplished the feat like it was the most normal thing in the world. The Cavalry Brigade also seemed to take his abilities for granted.
I could maybe enchant weapons from a distance if they were already charmed with my magic, but only if, and certainly not if they’d been previously imbued with a different element. Our enchantments might’ve looked the same at a glance, but mine only worked on metallic objects, not wood or skin.
His abilities truly know no bounds.
The more such unexpected sides of him I discovered, the more my love for him grew.
I’d been under his spell since the day we met. I still remembered it like it’d happened just yesterday—the day my seven-year-old self’s world lit up.
✦ ✦ ✦
❄❄❄
WHEN we first met, Bern had no idea I was part of the royal family and I had no idea he was a nobleman’s son.
For my seventh birthday, the Eisberk family gifted me one of their famed horses.
A horse? I wasn’t really feeling it. I’d ridden ride ponies every now and then but never a horse so large as the one that was to be my present.
Both my father and brother had their very own Eisberk horse. Mounts from Eisberk stock were big, fast, and smart. They had a refined aura about them. Father and Brother’s were massive and wouldn’t let me touch them, as though they were looking down their elegant, pointy noses at me.
In the distance I glimpsed a stableboy about my age leading an ornately decorated horse out of a stall.
Is he not scared? I felt actual concern for the boy. The beast could quite literally kick the life out of him.
The boy wore ceremonial riding garb, his blue hair tied in a ponytail. They’d probably chosen a small child to emphasize the horse’s size. Poor thing, I was thinking, when the horse suddenly raised its forelegs high.
Watch out! I held my breath in fear, but the boy smiled softly. He’s…smiling? I couldn’t tear my eyes away. He gazed at the horse tenderly, muttering something as he caressed its neck. Soon the horse calmed and resumed walking like nothing had happened. The stableboy, unfazed, followed, his gait steadfast. Like magic…
I wanted to examine the horse up close, so I slinked toward the stables the first chance I got. The adults couldn’t know. If they caught on, they’d find one reason or another to prevent me from seeing the horse for another week at least. That was just how the royal palace worked: safety concerns, paperwork, ceremonies; they all ground everything to a crawl. I was used to constant compromises.