Chapter Text
The market bustled with activity as vendors shouted about their goods, children scurried about, and men and women haggled for the best prices. Amidst the throng of people, a noblewoman wandered with a sense of urgency. Her long, wavy red hair, hastily covered by the hood of her cloak.
She looked rather out of place, a delicate doll-like figure surrounded by common folk, but she had a mission. Escape. Escape from the clutches of her past, her family, and the life that had been thrust upon her.
Maximilian's gaze darted around, her downturned grey eyes filled with apprehension. But then, she saw him—a tall, imposing figure in a navy cloak. It was a figure hard to miss, especially since he stood head and shoulders above most men. That, and the intimidating, cold gaze that could pierce through a person's soul.
Thinking him a mercenary for hire, she mustered her courage and approached him, her voice trembling with her signature stutter, "E-Excuse me, s-sir. I need your h-help."
Riftan Calypse turned to face her, taken aback by the vision before him. Maximilian. The very woman that had featured in his dreams since childhood. Although years had passed, he remembered her as clearly as if it was yesterday—the timid girl with mesmerizing red hair, a round forehead, small nose, and freckles dusting her nose and cheeks. However, he concealed his recognition, narrowing his dark black eyes, observing her intently.
"I wish to h-hire you," Maximilian continued, hesitating under his scrutinizing gaze. "I n-need to get away from this p-place."
Riftan took a moment, his face impassive. His mind raced. Why was she running? What was she running from? Without betraying his thoughts, he simply responded, "Why?"
"Name your p-price," Maximilian said hurriedly, the desperation clear in her voice.
This caught Riftan's attention. For a moment, he allowed his cold façade to crack, a slight frown forming on his face. Why was a duke's daughter so desperate to leave her luxurious life? Instead of voicing this questions, he said, "I can help, if you tell me the reason."
She looked conflicted, biting her lower lip. his eyes were distractedly drawn to her plump lips giving her a chance to weigh the risks and benefits of sharing her plight. "I-I... My f-father, he... I just need to get away from here. P-please, help me."
He didn't need to hear more. The decision was made. It was never really a question - he could never say no to her.
Riftan simply nodded and said "Very well, when would you like to leave?"
She didn't even hesitate, her voice urgent, "N-now! ... p-p-please." She added almost as an afterthought.
His eyebrows lifted in mild surprise but he nodded, "And where would you like to go?"
A desperation shadowed her eyes as she replied, "I-I don't mind. A-as long as it's f-far away f-from here."
The weight of her words hung in the air for a moment. He closed the gap between them and extended his hand, palm upwards, an invitation to trust and a promise of protection. "Then we mustn't waste any time."
Maximilian took his hand and they began weaving their way through the throng of the market, each step increasing the distance from her past.
As Maximilian walked beside Riftan, she couldn't help but steal glances at him. The way the sunlight caught the planes and angles of his chiseled face was nothing short of mesmerizing. His dark hair, contrasting against the shimmering silver of his armor, seemed to frame his face perfectly. The lines of his jaw were strong and well-defined, his nose straight and regal, and those intense, deep-set eyes held an ocean of stories. But it wasn’t just his face; the way he carried himself, with an undeniable authority and grace, was impressive. There was an air of confidence and power about him that was palpable. Every step, every gesture, screamed of a man who was unapologetically in charge, and yet, beneath all that hardness, Maximilian sensed a depth, a kindness that was rarely shown but was very much there. The dichotomy of his rough exterior and the gentleness he was showing her intrigued her.