What if's with Caleb

What if he is a Knight?

Three years had passed since Zayne and the Saintess's wedding, and life had gone on. The kingdom flourished, the war was a distant memory, and Caleb had risen in rank to become the head of the knights, standing proudly beside Zayne as his second-in-command.

But you could still see it, his eyes, lingering on the Saintess with that same tenderness, that same love he would never speak of. And though he was the epitome of knightly devotion, you could feel his heart, still tethered to her, still yearning for a love that was never meant to be his.

And you? You had moved in a different direction, though it was no easier. After years of watching Caleb train in swordsmanship, you had realized something within yourself. You had the same talent for swordsmanship that he did, but you had grown to despise the way it made you feel.

So you turned to potions and healing spells, hoping to help the kingdom in a way that was gentle and constructive. But even here, in this new world of alchemy and magic, you couldn't escape the feelings that still lingered in your heart.

Magic didn't come easily to you, and the potions you brewed often lacked the potency you wished for. It wasn't the same as the art of the sword, where you felt alive and powerful.

Still, you pressed on, telling yourself that this was your way to contribute to the kingdom. You could help the sick, the wounded, the downtrodden. You could offer healing in a way that combat never would.

You sighed, looking out of the tower window where the sunlight bathed the castle in warm light. It was a peaceful, idyllic sight, one that would have been perfect if it weren't for the ache that lingered in your chest every time you saw Caleb's gaze fall on the Saintess. A gaze that spoke volumes, even in its silence.

You didn't know when you had begun to fall for him. Perhaps it was in the way he cared for you, always there to offer a comforting word, a smile that made your heart flutter, even though you knew it was never meant for you.

You could never have been the one to claim it. But a year ago, in a tipsy night, with your fleeting courage. You stolen a peck from a sleeping knight and ran. And that is enough to soothe your heart ache.

And so, you kept your feelings buried deep, locked away in the quiet corners of your heart where they couldn't wound you. You tried, really tried to meet new people, to open yourself to the possibility of loving someone else. But no matter how hard you tried, it never felt right. It never worked.

So you stopped trying.

Instead, you threw yourself into your work, pouring your energy into potions and magic, losing yourself in the delicate art of alchemy. It became your refuge, your distraction, a way to silence the ache you refused to acknowledge.

Still, a part of you couldn't help but keep one eye on Caleb, always hoping to glimpse the same affection in his gaze that you had silently carried for years, though you never truly expected it.

The scent of crushed rose petals and simmering honey filled the air of the laboratory tower and got you back to what you needed to do. Beakers and flasks cluttered the marble countertops, their contents swirling in muted shades of pink and gold, like delicate promises waiting to be realized.

Beside you lay a thick tome, its aged pages open to the delicate process of brewing a love potion. A potion you had sworn never to make, yet here you were, entranced by the need to fulfill a request.

Not a true love potion, of course. That would be unethical. This one merely nudged the drinker toward honesty, urging them to confess the feelings they already harbored. No enchantments, no illusions, just a gentle push toward courage.