Fated flame's

"im walda" she replied as she started down embarrassed and scared

Rendyll's sharp gaze locked onto Walda as he crossed his arms. "Why are you spying? Who sent you? My father? Queen freya?"

Walda froze, her eyes wide as a doe caught in a trap. "I—I wasn't spying… I—"

Her stammering seemed to amuse him, and a sly grin curved his lips. "Relax, I'm kidding," he said, a teasing lilt in his voice.

For a moment, Walda couldn't decide whether to laugh or run. His reputation preceded him, after all—stories of his fiery temper weren't exactly comforting. But Rendyll, seeming unbothered by her presence, turned back to his sparring.

"Stay if you want," he added casually, though his tone left her unsure whether it was an invitation or indifference.

Walda hovered awkwardly, debating her options. She'd watched him train many times before, but never this close. His intensity and skill were captivating, and though she had every reason to leave, her curiosity anchored her.

When the sparring match ended, Rendyll tossed his sword to the knight and stretched. "You've been here long enough to see me fight. What do you think?"

Startled by his directness, she fumbled for an answer. "You're… very good," she said truthfully. "Precise, quick."

He smirked, wiping sweat from his brow. "High praise. But what does a spy know about swordplay?"

Her cheeks burned, and she opened her mouth to protest, but he laughed and waved her off. "I'm joking again. You're so easy to fluster."

Rendyll gestured toward the woods nearby. "I'm not ready to go back to the palace. Feel like a walk?"

Surprised by the offer, Walda hesitated, then nodded. "Alright."

They wandered through the shaded paths, the cool breeze a welcome relief from the heat of the training . To her surprise, Rendyll was easy to talk to—far different from the aloof or fiery prince she had imagined.

"You watch me train a lot," he said after a while, his tone casual.

Her heart skipped a beat. "I didn't mean to intrude. I was just… curious."

"Curious?" He raised an eyebrow. "Curious about what?"

"About you," she admitted hesitantly. "You're not like the others in the palace."

"Good or bad?"

"Different," she said, a small smile tugging at her lips.

Rendyll laughed, a sound more genuine than she expected. "Fair enough. I suppose I am. Court life is boring—too many rules, not enough freedom. I'd rather be out here than in there."

They talked about everything and nothing—his adventurous streak, her fascination with life beyond the palace walls, and even the absurd rumors that floated around the court. Rendyll shared tales of his escapades, from climbing the tallest tower to stealing his elder brother's prized sword for a prank.

"You're not what I expected," Walda admitted as they rested by a stream.

"Neither are you," Rendyll replied. "Most people are too afraid to talk to me, let alone spy on me."

She flushed, but his tone was teasing, not accusatory.

As they made their way back to the castle, Walda realized that Rendyll wasn't just the rebellious, temperamental prince people whispered about. He was funny, clever, and—most unexpectedly—kind.

And though Rendyll didn't say it, he had noticed Walda's quiet beauty and the way her presence softened the edges of his restless spirit.

"walda" he called as they reached the court yard, he turned to her

"it was nice having your company " he said simply, before turning and heading inside.

Walda stood there, her heart lighter than it had been in a long time. She hadn't expected this day, but she was glad for it. For the first time, she felt she had truly seen Rendyll—not the prince, but the person.