The next morning, Viana decided to fetch an ointment for Reyes's wounds, determined to ensure he healed properly. She secured a small jar of healing salve from the palace infirmary, its sharp herbal scent grounding her, and made her way toward the Royal Guard barracks.
The stone building stood near the training grounds, its narrow windows glowing faintly as the evening settled in. The air carried the familiar scent of leather, polished steel, and the quiet hum of off-duty guards filling the corridors.
Viana's steps were steady but brisk, though she was more aware of her heartbeat than she cared to admit as she approached Reyes's door.
She knocked lightly, the sound sharp in the stillness. After a moment, the door opened slowly, revealing Reyes dressed in a loose gray shirt, his bandaged hands visible. His eyes widened slightly, a hint of color rising to his neck as he registered her presence.
"Your Highness," he said, his voice rough with surprise. "Why are you here?"
