Fatima could still feel her heart thudding against her ribs as the maids escorted her down the path leading to the empress's quarters. My poor heart must have skipped ten beats in one sitting—five from fear, and the rest from… whatever else that was. She pressed a hand to her chest, trying to steady herself. How can a man be so terrifying and charming in the same breath?
She took a slow breath, fanning herself discreetly with her hand. He could have given me some warning before making such candid remarks. Honestly! Her brows knit together as she tried to suppress the thought that had been tugging at her since breakfast. Is it possible he's jealous? No, no, absolutely not. A man of his standing wouldn't feel something so petty toward someone like me. He's only being unreasonable to get a rise out of me. That must be it. Her lips quirked. That side of him is still intact, at least.
Her steps halted before the heavy ornate doors, yet she was still in a daze until a voice from behind her pulled her out of her spiraling thoughts. "You may enter, princess." The moment the doors opened, Fatima's breath caught in her throat. My word!
The sight before her was nothing short of enchanting. The air was thick with the fragrance of blooming wisterias, their cascading petals forming a living tunnel of lavender, rose, and snow-white blossoms arching overhead. Sunlight filtered through the blossoms like scattered gold, dappling the cobblestone path in shifting hues. Birds trilled from unseen branches, and butterflies drifted lazily through the air as though the world existed solely to admire their grace. If heaven had a form, surely it looked like this.
Beyond the floral tunnel, a wide pond mirrored the sky, its surface trembling with the faint ripples of koi gliding beneath a curved wooden bridge. The soft rustle of vines and the trickle of distant water wrapped the garden in tranquil music. "Right this way, princess," said the handmaiden, bowing politely. "Her Majesty awaits at the gazebo near the lake." Fatima blinked. "An outdoor lunch?" she whispered under her breath. "How… innovatively refreshing."
They followed the path until the structure came into view—an open pavilion woven with ivy and silk drapes that danced in the breeze. The Empress sat at its center, sunlight glinting off her jeweled hair ornaments. She was the picture of regality and restraint, though the subtle downturn of her lips betrayed something colder. Fatima's steps slowed. The Empress's expression was not the gentle warmth she'd seen the previous day; it was a scowl honed sharp enough to wound.
Ah… so this isn't an invitation of friendship after all, Fatima realized grimly. She's doing this to keep up appearances before the Emperor. How very royal of her. "Greetings, your Majesty," Fatima said softly, bowing before taking her seat. The Empress's knife glided through her steak with effortless grace. "When I read your measurements, I was quite baffled, Princess Calliope," she said coolly, as though remarking on the weather. "I thought my eyes must be deceiving me."
Fatima froze, uncertain whether to laugh or apologize. Her hands folded tightly in her lap. She kept her gaze lowered, eyes fixed on the reflection of sunlight in her glass. In Syphus, it was considered rude—disrespectful even—to look directly into the eyes of a monarch. Surely Alkaraz had similar traditions. Right? "It is considered poor manners to avert one's gaze in a conversation, Princess," the Empress remarked dryly, her stern tone cutting through the silence like a blade.
Fatima's mind went blank. She's saying that as if I'm supposed to know. "M-my sincerest apologies, your Majesty," she blurted out, forcing a nervous smile as she lifted her gaze. "I assure you, it was not my intention to offend. I'm simply… mesmerized by the sight of Your Majesty's marvelous abode." She gestured vaguely toward the flowers, praying her voice didn't crack. "And I feel greatly honored to be sharing such a scrumptious meal with you. I—I will enjoy every bite with the utmost gratitude!" She let out a shaky giggle.
Why am I prattling like a fool? Someone, please get me out of here! She cried internally. The Empress's brows arched slightly. Then, to everyone's surprise, she let out a sharp chortle. The sound startled the handmaidens; one nearly dropped the pitcher she was holding. Their eyes darted between one another, wide with disbelief. Has the empress never laughed before? Fatima wondered. "Give us privacy," the Empress ordered, flicking her fingers dismissively. The attendants vanished like shadows retreating from sunlight.
When they were alone, the Empress leaned forward, her lips curling into something that was not quite a smile. "Now then," she said softly, "I want you to eat everything I put in front of you—down to the very last bite. I shall decide when you've had enough. Are we clear, Princess Calliope?" Her voice was sweet, but her eyes gleamed with quiet menace. "I-I beg your pardon, your majesty?" Fatima felt a chill run through her veins. The Empress's stare was like frost beneath the afternoon sun—beautiful, but biting. My suspicions were right, Fatima thought grimly, picking up her fork with trembling fingers. The Empress invited me here to torture me, after all.
**
Leonardo cleared his throat at the threshold, his voice gentle but steeped in urgency. "Your highness, Duchess Emilia is requesting an audience with you."
Nathaniel barely looked up from the stack of notes on his desk. The study smelled of warm parchment and cedar oil, a scent that always made him think more clearly. "Escort the duchess to my private drawing room. I shall be there momentarily." "As you wish, your highness." The chamberlain dipped into a crisp bow and slipped out.
Left alone, Nathaniel leaned back in his chair, fingers tapping against the armrest. His thoughts drifted to Fatima. He wanted to believe she was handling her latest challenge with her usual quiet ferocity, yet even he had to admit her opponent was not someone to underestimate. The uncertainty settled like a stone in his stomach.
When he entered the drawing room, Emilia was already perched on the edge of the settee, her posture stiff enough to snap. Soft afternoon light filtered through the sheer curtains, casting silver across her tight expression. She did not bother with pleasantries.
"I have a bone to pick with you, brother." Her brows were pinched together, and her stare felt sharp enough to peel skin. Even the porcelain cup in her hand trembled slightly. Nathaniel sank onto the velvet seat across from her with the lazy grace of someone pretending not to notice the storm brewing. "Likewise, my dear sister."
"Very well," she muttered, straightening her skirt with agitated hands. He watched her closely. Emilia almost never looked troubled. This was the sister who faced the imperial court's serpents with an elegant smile and a spine of iron. Seeing her like this stirred old instincts in him, the ones formed back when they were children whispering secrets under heavy quilts. The only way to calm her was to stay calm himself and let her follow his lead. Then her sharp mind would return, and they could sort out whatever mess she brought with her.
She took a breath, set her teacup down with a small clink and lifted her chin. "I shall go first." Nathaniel nodded, bracing himself. "Your imperial highness, Crown Prince Kazein," she began in the clipped tone she reserved for unpleasant duties. "Explain to me why on earth is the crown princess of Syphus living here as a bond servant? You'd better offer me a believable story or else I'm taking this matter to father."
Emilia's blue eyes locked unto Nathaniel's amber ones as a dreadful silence stretched between them. She squeezed the edge of the soft velvet, her manicured nails digging into the fabric as she anticipated her brother's answer. Nathaniel had expected her to find out some day, though not quite so abruptly.
With her being the head of Glorio, an assassin guild operating under the cloaks of a simple information guild, she was bound to find out sooner rather than later. And of course, her curiosity would eventually crack open. "The princess…she is in a very delicate position right now. I can't tell you the details but," His sigh came heavier than intended, the weight of the story heavy on his tongue. Emilia's eyes narrowed. "Tell me everything. Now." Emilia was relentless today. Not even a crack in her voice.
"Very well. I suppose I have no choice but to tell you the entire truth," Nathaniel said, leaning forward while running a hand through his crimson hair. "However, you must promise that our conversation will not leave this room." Emilia clicked her tongue. "I am glad we are finally on the same page, brother." "That is not the answer I'm waiting for, dear sister." Her glare sharpened. "You know as well as I do that I do not blabber." "Say it," he insisted. His tone softened at the edges but held firm.
She huffed, folding her arms. "Alright, I promise not to tell a soul about our conversation here. Happy?" "Very." He allowed himself a small smirk and she rolled her eyes in return. A beat of silence passed between them, calm but tense like a bowstring slowly being drawn back. "Now then," he said, exhaling. "Where should I begin?"
**
The golden light of sunset poured across the marble floors of the Alkaraz imperial palace, turning the long corridor into something that looked painted by a sentimental artist. Fatima shuffled along its gleaming stretch with all the dignity of a seasick noblewoman, one hand clamped to her churning stomach. Her legs wobbled like jelly. A tiny retch escaped her lips.
She muttered under her breath, her face twisting in disbelief. "I ate everything she placed in front of me and next thing I knew the entire table had vanished. The empress probably thinks I was starved half my life. I am so full I can barely blink."
"Your Highness!" A maid burst out from behind her with the urgency of someone chasing a runaway teapot. Fatima flinched so hard she nearly toppled. "Please" she croaked, lifting a trembling hand. "Allow me a moment to recompose my bearings. Another step and I might disgrace myself right here."
The maids, clearly used to imperial dramatics, guided her with astonishing patience. Not a single eye roll, not a single sigh. Only gentle concern, which somehow made the whole ordeal even more embarrassing. By the time Fatima reached her chamber, she practically collapsed against the door, her voice floating out in relief. "What a world of difference."
The air inside was cool and quiet. She inhaled deeply, finally free from the endless parade of palace staff and the Empress's lovingly lethal meal portions. A sharp tapping sound cut through the calm. It came from the balcony. She froze, eyes narrowing. It sounded like someone flicking pebbles at her window. She crept forward, pulling the curtains aside with the delicacy of someone expecting a potential assassin and came face to face with a bird. It flapped at the window in frantic, sweaty desperation. She blinked and stepped back.
"All right all right, come in before you fling yourself unconscious," she said, lifting the latch. The bird swooped inside, landing with a theatrical gasp. "Thank goodness she opened the window in time. I nearly melted in that ridiculous sun." Fatima stared. What a beautiful bird. Its feathers shimmered like molten gold and lapis, every movement catching the last light of day. She swallowed nervously.
"Excuse me. Are you alright?" she asked. The bird hopped onto the bed frame, tilted its head, and stared at her. Just stared. Fatima could have sworn she heard it speak. Am I so full that I'm now hallucinating avian complaints? The bird cleared its throat with a prim flourish. "Ahem. Since you seem so curious, I suppose I shall grant you the honor of knowing my name, young maiden. You are in the presence of Cali VonTicus, the crown prince's favorite companion. As I am feeling generous today, you may address me as Dame Cali."
Fatima's expression froze somewhere between awe and mild disappointment. What a remarkably self-absorbed creature. She almost regretted that she could understand every word. Cali launched into her performance. "Earlier I caught a squirrel stealing from my secret stash of snacks. A vile delinquent. I nearly ended the fiend's life. I grabbed its neck like this and then it squealed and then I said to it, listen here you insignificant piece of fur, and then it dared to throw the nut at me. The gall!"
Fatima stood there, her smile wilting. Cali continued without breathing. "And then there was this other squirrel. That one had the audacity to run. I chased it for ten minutes. I would have caught it too if not for that slippery branch. And then yesterday I caught Louis licking his nether regions and I emptied my entire stomach. It was unspeakable."
Fatima made a face that attempted politeness but mostly communicated horror. I do not think that was information I needed to know about. Cali fluffed her feathers indignantly then paused. "Come to think of it, I never asked your name. What do people call you, maiden?" Fatima attempted to keep her expression blank. Just stay silent. Pretend you do not understand. Let this bird ramble into the void.
Cali narrowed her eyes. "Louis told me she could understand animal language. Why is she looking at me like a confused statue? Did that old fool play a prank on me again? Louis, you useless fraud. How dare you." Fatima watched with growing alarm as the bird spiraled into an enraged tirade. She finally blurted out, "H-hello Dame Cali. My name is Calliope Rose Fatima. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance." Cali froze, feathers lifting with delight. "Good heavens. How marvelous. The reprobate idiot was telling the truth after all. How wonderful. In that case, we have much to discuss, my dear." Fatima groaned internally. Of course she does.
**
As Emilia stepped out of Nathaniel's study, the corridor felt strangely tight around her. The polished floors reflected glimmers of late afternoon sunlight, yet her chest tightened as if the air carried the weight of secrets. Her thoughts tangled into an awful knot. Fatima's story replayed again and again. Her elder sister's attempts on her life. The miracle of her survival. The truth about her origins. Emilia felt as if a hand kept squeezing her heart.
She had given that girl nothing but patience and kindness since the first day they met. She had trusted her, protected her, teased her like a little sister. Yet Fatima had still chosen silence. Emilia bit down on her lip until she tasted the faintest metallic tang. Even now she could not decide whether she felt betrayed, foolish or simply hurt. The emotions churned together like storm clouds. Guilt clung to her so tightly that her breaths dragged unevenly through her lungs.
I have to speak with her, she thought. Tonight. If I keep this inside any longer, I will never sleep. A familiar voice pulled her back to the hallway. "Princess Emilia? Are you alright, your highness?" She looked up and found Leonardo, the chamberlain, watching her with knitted brows. His neat uniform was immaculate as always and yet his concern softened the sharpness of his posture.
"Oh, Leo. Perfect timing." Her words slipped out before she could gather her composure. Her hands had begun to tremble slightly, so she clasped them behind her back to hide it. He waited for her to speak, eyes steady and polite. Emilia exhaled. "I cannot seem to collect myself after my conversation with Zen. Would you kindly guide me to where his guest is staying?" "Of course, your highness," Leonardo replied. "I will confirm with his highness before escorting you." She managed a small, tired smile. Thorough to a fault. "He is already aware." "Very well. Then please allow me to escort you."
As they walked, the palace's quiet hum wrapped around them. Guards shifting in their posts. The distant murmur of gossiping attendants. Emilia's pulse still beat too fast, but having Leonardo nearby steadied her a little.
A few minutes later, Leonardo slowed near a carved oak door. A peculiar screeching sound grated against the air, followed by the rhythmic thumping of something jumping on a mattress. Emilia blinked. "Is that Cali I hear squawking inside her chamber?" "It appears so, your highness," Leonardo muttered, his expression souring as he reached for the handle. "Pardon my intrusion, my… oh. Oh no." His voice rose in surprise.
The room was a pleasant chaos. Sunlight spilled across the bed where Fatima lay sprawled, fast asleep, her breathing deep and peaceful. Meanwhile Cali the bird flapped circles around her head, shrieking indignantly as if insulted by Fatima's refusal to wake. Emilia stared. "How can she sleep through all that ruckus?" Cali let out another offended squawk. Leonardo narrowed his eyes at the bird. "Cali?" His tone stretched thin with warning.
The shrieking instantly stopped. Fatima stirred, rubbing her eyes with slow, clumsy fingers. Her hair stuck out in every direction, and her expression floated somewhere between confusion and childhood innocence. "Yes… brother?" she murmured, blinking blearily at Leonardo. For reasons he couldn't quite understand, his heart gave slight squeeze at the word brother. Leonardo squinted his eyes at her but said nothing.
Emilia felt her breath catch. All her guilt, fear and longing swelled at once. This was the girl she had come to confront. And suddenly the words she thought she had prepared felt far too heavy for her tongue.