They spoke not a word to each other as they trekked back to the palace.
The air was heavy with unasked and unanswered questions.
She was dressed back in her normal everyday attire, and that made it a little easier for him to disassociate and to pretend that the whole thing had been a very confusing dream.

But no matter how much he tried to separate himself, He still could not speak. Kalisto felt her own unease with every step. Wishing he would say something, anything while simultaneously unable to speak anything herself. She hoped she had not changed how he saw her or caused him to view her differently, cheaply, or in a bad way.
"Goodnight." She finally managed to squeak out before slipping quickly into the safety of her room.

Alastar stood outside Kallisto's door, guarding it like he had done every night since she was a small child.
Alastar remembered the day that had changed his life forever. He had been just fourteen years old, trailing his father on a visit to the palace. While his general predecessor had been in dreary meetings with the Sultan, the boy had wandered out into the palace gardens, marveling at the beauty of the colorful flower beds, a rare treat in the desert nation.

It was then that he saw her - a little eight-year-old girl with dark curls and darker eyes, playing at the edge of the gardens under the watchful eye of her mother and her attendants. Alastar watched as she ran and laughed, a smile spreading across his face at her childish delight. She was more lively than any girl he had ever seen, not that he had seen many.

But then, without warning, a wild leopard burst out of the woods, grabbing the girl by her dress and pulling her towards the trees. Her mother screamed, and time seemed to freeze for Alastar as he watched it all unfold before him. With the eunuch guard too far away, it seemed hopeless.

Without thinking, he ran towards them, jumping over a hedge and drawing his wooden training sword from its sheath. He beat off the beast with all his might, finally driving it away with a fierce blow to the head. When it was all over, he scooped up the little girl in his arms, carrying her away from the danger.

In the attack's aftermath, her father, the Sultan who had looked helplessly from the war room window, had awarded Alastar the job of her bodyguard - the first non eunuch ever, a position he had held forever since. He had watched her grow and change over the years, her childhood innocence giving way to something more complex and intelligent.Althoughh the events of that day had been frightening and traumatic, he knew they had also brought him a sense of purpose and responsibility that he wouldn't have otherwise found.

Tonight was different, though. Tonight, he couldn't shake the memory of the way she had looked during her dance with the high priestess. She had been wearing much more form-fitting clothes, and Alastar hadn't been able to stop himself from noticing how her body had developed and changed.

He cursed himself for his thought. Hee had always seen her as a kid sister before, and these fresh revelations had shaken him to his very core.

He thought of his wife, Desdemona, and felt a pang of guilt. She had drowned, leaving him with nothing but memories and a deep well of grief. He tried to push Kallisto out of his mind and focus on his pain instead, but the memory of her body kept creeping back up on him.

He took a swig from the flask he had brought with him, feeling the burn of the liquor in his throat. It didn't help - if anything, it made things worse. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt so conflicted and confused.

He was supposed to be her protector and mentor, not some sort of fiend.
He took another swig of alcohol, trying to numb the conflicting emotions within him. But as the night wore on and sleep failed to come, he knew that there was no escaping what he was feeling. He was disgusted with himself for it, but he couldn't deny that he had been even just minimally aroused by Kallisto's body, and he didn't know what to do about it.

One more long swig from his flask, trying to drown out the sensations that plagued him. But the memories of Kallisto's body kept flooding back to him. The way her breasts swelled heavily under the fabric of her reaveling clothes, the curves of her thighs, and the intensity of her gaze as she moved with the grace of a tiger.

He remembered the way her dark curls fell against her glistening, exposed skin. It was all too much for him, and he didn't know how to go back to seeing her as a child.
Desdemona was the only woman he had ever wanted, had ever touched, how could he cope?

He took another swig of alcohol, feeling the heat of the liquid burn down his throat. He was shaken up most by the look in her eyes when her gaze had caught his, the undeniable charge that flowed between them, and even more astonished by the way his body had reacted.

But then he remembered Desdemona - his beautiful, kind wife, who had drowned tragically only a few months earlier. He felt a pang of guilt for the unborn child he had never met, for the life that was stolen from him. But as the memories of Kallisto's body kept flooding back, and it was war inside his head, he couldn't think of any other way to push them back, so he took another swig of alcohol, feeling the numbness spread through his body in a way that was finally making it all just slightly better.
As difficult as today was, it was only going to get worse, much worse, and he knew he was going to have to force himself through it for her sake.
But how, he didn't know.

As they walked back towards the Temple the next day, Kallisto couldn't help feeling a sense of unease around Alastar. She could feel the weight of this new burden between them, and she didn't know how to begin to address it. They had always been close, but in the last few years, so much had changed, and this man beside her felt more like a stranger than a friend.

She cleared her throat, trying to break the silence. "Beautiful weather today," she said, her voice sounding overly formal.

Alastar nodded but didn't say anything. His expression was guarded, and Kallisto couldn't help feeling a sense of disappointment that he wasn't more open with her.

They walked for a few more minutes in silence before Kallisto tried to speak again. "I hate this too, you know? Do you think I wish to use you like a training tool?
I thought learning to be the Sultan would be much more respectable."

Alastar shrugged. "It doesn't matter what you or I think," he said in a flat tone.
Kallisto felt a pang of hurt at Alastar's dismissal. She wondered if he was ashamed of her, or simply trying to distance himself from her.

They walked on in silence for the rest of the way, the awkwardness between them feeling palpable. Kallisto wished for anything to break the tension: a sudden rainstorm, a stampede of Maligyptian elephants, anything. But the quiet persisted, and she couldn't help feeling a sense of worry about what their relationship would look like moving forward

Alastar saw the apprehension and hurt in her eyes, as they approached the temple gate. At that moment t realize that it was that scared little girl, His friend, his charge who was beside him...
He sighed and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, in his usual brotherly fashion.
Her heart jumped to life, and she met his gaze, hopefully.

"You're still the Sultan's daughter, and I'm still your bodyguard. And until the day a Crown is on your head. Our fates are not our own. I understand that I do not blame you at all for what must transpire within these walls. Do what you must do to become Sultan. I shall help you; however, I can, no matter how uncomfortable it may make me. I will get you to that throne, and nothing else matters."

Alastar waited in the chamber as she changed into the crimson clothing,
Kallisto remembered the day when the High Priestess had taken her aside to teach her about kissing. She had been both nervous and curious about what the lesson would entail.

The Priestess had led her into a private room in the temple, lined from floor to ceiling with books and art, A prized possession of the temple. She had explained that kissing was a natural expression of love and affection, but when wielded correctly, also a weapon of Great-Power. She had handed Kallisto a series of manuals and diagrams outlining the science and artistry of kissing.

Kallisto had been amazed at what she saw - intricate drawings of lips and tongues, detailed instructions on the angles and positions of the face, and descriptions of different types of kisses. She poured over them with fascination and revulsion, equal parts intrigued and intimidated by what she saw.

The Priestess had then given her a demonstration of the different types of kisses, taking her through the motions of what to do and what not to do. Kallisto watched intently, her eyes wide as the Priestess demonstrated everything from small pecks to passionate embraces.

Finally, the Priestess had given her a series of art pieces to study, showing couples in various stages of kissing. Kallisto had examined them in detail, scrutinizing every detail of how their lips and bodies were entwined.

It had seemed overwhelming at the time, but now as she walked back into the room, which awaited Alastar, It had never in any of that time ever occurred to her that he might be her first.

The priestess stood before Kallisto, her eyes glittering with mischief and excitement. Only a curtained off room between her and her body guard.

The priestess seemed to sense her anxiety and took her hand gently.
"Don't worry, granddaughter." she began, her voice soothing, Referring to her with the familial pet name one she only ever used when Kallisto had done well, or done something to make her proud.
"Kissing is a natural and beautiful thing. Remove your mind from your body,
And let it do all the work." Kallisto listened carefully, trying to memorize the details even as her cheeks burned bright red.

"Now, when he leans in to kiss you, keep your lips relaxed," the priestess Reminded as if she hadn't drilled this lesson into the girl 100 times before. She Silently reminded herself of this, and softly said "Just remember your training."

The Musicians had already begun to play, and she could hear them through the thin curtain.
Kallisto nodded. She couldn't believe that she was actually going to have to kiss Alastar after her next dance. It was simultaneously exciting and terrifying.

The priestess gave her a reassuring smile, sensing the mix of emotions on her face.

Kallisto nodded once more, feeling a renewed sense of calm wash over her. She took a deep breath, and stepped through the curtain.

Kallisto took a deep breath, her heart racing as she prepared to dance for Alastar once again.

As the music began, Kallisto moved with an elegance and sensuality that took Alastar's breath away. Her body seemed to flow like water, each movement deliberate and effortless at the same time.

He watched as she swayed and spun, capturing the essence of the music with each turn. Her eyes were intense and locked on his, as if she were a tiger stalking her prey, he couldnt look away even if he dared, and Alastar felt that faint rush of blood once again.

But then he remembered his duty as her bodyguard, and the guilt seeped in. He knew that he shouldn't be feeling these things about her. This was a duty and nothing else. He locked his jaw.

Kallisto finished in a flurry of motion, her body glistening with sweat. She looked up at Alastar with a mix of pride and vulnerability, waiting for his reaction.

Alastar was silent for a moment, taking in the intensity of what he had just witnessed. He wanted to compliment her on how talented she was, how much he could see the hundreds of hours of practice that it likely took. But he couldn't find the words.

Instead, he just nodded, his expression guarded. "You're certainly a good dancer," he said with a hint of detachment in his voice.

Kallisto's face fell, sensing the distance between them. She wanted to bridge the gap, to tell him how much she just wanted her old friend back. But she felt a wedge growing between them, created both by the attraction she held and the stony expression of which he wore.

Kallisto stood there, her heart racing with anticipation as the music died down. As it came to a stop, she turned to the Priestess. The old woman sternly said,
"Now kiss him."

Alastars eyes widened in shock. he had never imagined that the Priestess would order her to kiss him right then and there, and with the entire band watching.
His face was frozen, and Kallisto couldn't tell if he was feeling panic or anger.
But then, before she could even think about what to do next, the Priestess impatiently cleared her throat, urging her towards Alastar with an expectant nod.
Kallisto stumbled forward dutifully. All traces of the Sultana were gone. instead only remained the nervous, awkward girl.

With each step she took towards him, he found himself pushing further and further into his seat in a panic. Trying to put as much distance between them as his chair would allow, until his head was pressed so firmly against the backrest that his neck began to hurt. His dismay was as obvious as it was devastating, but dutifully, she could do nothing but follow orders.

As Kallisto moved in to kiss him, planting her hands firmly on his armrest, leaning over his chair and exposing her chest to him much like in a picture she had studied.

Alastar - her bodyguard, her friend, and secretly, the object of her affections for years. This was a dream and a nightmare all rolled into one. The priestess voice in her mind guided Kallisto's movements, instructing her to move in close to Alastar's face. Kallisto hesitated for just a moment, the panic on his face was hard to ignore.

Kallisto leaned in to kiss Alastar, her heart pounding with excitement and desire. Had she wanted this moment for so long? She had dreamed of kissing him and feeling his lips against hers since she first learned the meaning of those words.

But as she pressed her lips to his, she felt him tense up underneath her. He didn't kiss her back - instead, he stayed frozen, in an obvious state of shock and panic.
She continued with movements she had practiced and researched, but with no response, it was just as awkward as kissing a statue.

She pulled back after a few attempts. Her confidence suddenly spent.
"Be a good soldier." The priestess chided him with equal parts annoyance and threat.

For a moment, they just looked at each other, the air around them heavy with confusion. But then, slowly, remembering his promise, Alastar gritted his teeth.

He let his lips part slightly, and Kallisto felt his breath on her face as he exhaled. He tentatively placed his hand on her waist, pulling her closer to him once more.
He watched as she leaned, her lips parted and her eyes locked onto his. He could smell the sweet scent of her perfume, and his mind raced between guilt, duty, and something else.
Slowly, tentatively he tried to remember how the act was done as her lips touched his. He told himself to pretend he was with his wife, forcing the memories of their first kiss to come flooding back. This was his duty.
And then, finally, he began to kiss her back, methodically at first, but after a few moments, in his alreadt half drunk state, he got lost in her lips, which warm and full of curiosity and newfound passion. In his mind he transported himself back under a bridge in the rain, kissing the merchant's beautiful daughter for the first time. In that moment he felt no pain or grief.

As they pulled back from each other, Kallisto looked into Alastar's eyes.
He watched as Kallisto straightened up, a small smile on her lips. Her expression one of joy and relief.
She could see the mix of emotions written there that she had already been trained to read- desire, regret, and something else that she couldn't quite name.

But she knew that this was only the beginning of what was to come. They had both opened a door that couldn't be closed again. Kallisto could see the guilt in Alastar's eyes as it returned to his expression with a vengeance, and something inside of her ached with the disappointment that this may never be anything more than a duty for him.

"I need air. " Alastar murmured, his voice choked with emotion.
Kallisto saw the pain etched on his face, She reached out a trembling hand, touching his cheek gently. "I am so sorry."

Alastar looked at her, his eyes softening. For a moment, she thought he would pull her back into his arms, and for another, he almost wanted her to. Being in her arms was the only solace he had found thus far.
But then, with a heavy sigh, he stepped away, walking towards the exit of the room.

"I just need some air," he said quietly, before slipping out into the night.