The day had not yet broken, but Nahia's eyes were already wide open.
Her breath was short. Her sheets, damp with sweat. That dream again… or was it a memory? She no longer knew. Everything was blending, twisting, wrapping around her throat like an invisible, suffocating veil.
— "You didn't sleep," observed a soft voice beside her.
Amaya approached slowly, a steaming bowl in her hands. Her still-sleepy eyes were full of worry, veiled by the shadow of interrupted rest.
— "The doctor said you need to stay in bed, remember?"
Nahia nodded slowly, forcing a smile. It was weak, almost imperceptible, but it was all she could offer.
— "It's nothing serious... I'll be fine."
She repeated it like an incantation. A magic phrase meant to protect her from the truth. Like a fragile prayer between her and the pain. But her body spoke another truth. Every movement was heavy, painful. As if something inside her had broken more deeply than a mere sprain. Something more intimate, more profound.
She slowly pushed the sheets aside, wincing despite herself. Amaya set the bowl on the bedside table, her fingers trembling slightly.
— "Where are you going?" she whispered, worried.
— "To get some air. Just for a bit. I need to breathe."
Amaya looked at her silently, then nodded, resigned. She knew that expression, that stubborn determination. She knew her big sister never let herself be held back. And maybe, deep down, she understood that need to escape—even if only for a moment.
---
The palace was still asleep.
The corridors, bathed in pale light, seemed to belong to another world. A world frozen, waiting for dawn. Nahia walked slowly, leaning against the walls. Each step, each contact with the ground rekindled the burning in her bandaged ankle, but she kept moving. Perhaps to avoid thinking. Perhaps just to feel she was still capable. Perhaps because being still had become unbearable.
She crossed the great garden, then stopped before a nearly hidden path, tucked between two rows of orange trees.
The forgotten garden.
She parted the foliage, her fingers gliding over warm bark. The small iron gate creaked softly as it opened.
There, before her, stretched a place suspended from the world. Wild. Free. Overgrown grass, blooming flowers, a peaceful lake... It was as if nothing had changed, as if this place had been waiting for her.
Nahia stepped toward the water's edge, sat on the flat stone where she used to rest, and let the silence wrap around her. The wind gently brushed her face, and for the first time in days, she felt her body release part of the tension that had been choking her.
Then, a faint crack of a broken branch stirred the air. She turned, tense, her heart racing.
Yasmina.
She appeared between two bushes, her steps light, her gaze surprised but warm. She wore a flowing pale linen dress, and her dark hair was held by a thin braid resting on her shoulder.
— "I didn't think I'd find you here," she said softly. "You haven't come in days."
Nahia lowered her eyes toward the still water.
— "I haven't really had time," she whispered. "The days blur together, and I'm always running. There's always something to do, something to solve."
Yasmina walked closer, slowly.
— "You should learn to pause, at least a little," she said gently. "Even the sun rests between night and day. It's not weakness to sit down, to breathe. Sometimes, it's necessary."
She sat beside her, lifting her dress to avoid the damp ground. Her gaze slid over Nahia's dress… then stopped.
— "You got hurt?" she asked, pointing at the visible bandage.
— "A stupid fall," Nahia sighed. "I was rushing to carry a box of files to the sheikh's office. I slipped and sprained my ankle. Nothing too glorious."
Yasmina shook her head, concern in her eyes.
— "You could've been seriously hurt. You know, you can ask for help sometimes, slow down... You're not alone here."
Nahia lowered her eyes. That phrase—she had heard it often. But never spoken with such tenderness.
— "Since Lina left, everything's on me. If I don't do it... no one will. I don't really have a choice, you know."
Yasmina looked thoughtfully at the water's reflection.
— "And Amaya?" she asked softly. "Is she okay?"
A smile crossed Nahia's lips.
— "She's strong. Too strong, sometimes. She watches over me like an old lady. But I know it's her way of showing she cares."
— "She loves you," Yasmina whispered. "She cares about you—just like I do."
Nahia turned toward her, slightly surprised. That last sentence had echoed more deeply than she expected.
— "I miss you, you know," she murmured.
Yasmina smiled.
— "I miss you too."
A silence settled between them. One of those silences that don't need to be filled. They stayed there for a long moment, talking about what they had done these past days. Little things, anecdotes, memories.
Then Yasmina leaned slightly toward her.
— "Do you want me to braid your hair?"
Nahia blinked, moved, then nodded.
— "I'd like that. Like before."
She slipped her hands to her veil, ready to remove it, but just as her fingers reached the fabric, a voice called out from afar.
Princess Yasmina, where are you? Your tutor is here!
Yasmina tensed instantly.
— "I have to go," she murmured, frowning. "They've probably been looking for me for a while. I forgot about the morning lesson."
Nahia nodded, disappointed but understanding. She knew too well what it meant to have obligations.
— "Next time," she whispered.
— "Promise," Yasmina replied with a sincere smile.
Yasmina was about to turn away, but she paused, hesitated, then stepped lightly back. She leaned in, briefly placing a hand on Nahia's shoulder.
— "Before I go... I want you to know something," she murmured. "You're not alone, Nahia. Even when you're silent, even when you close yourself off... I'm here. I'm your friend. If something hurts, if your heart is too heavy—you can tell me. I want to be that safe place for you."
Her voice was barely a breath, but each word felt carefully woven, like a fragile promise.
She disappeared through the foliage, leaving behind a faint scent of flowers… and a strange warmth blooming in Nahia's chest.
A soft warmth. Fragile. But alive.
And in that moment, Nahia knew with aching certainty that no matter the storms to come, Yasmina's luminous soul would leave an indelible mark in the most hidden corners of her heart — a bond that nothing could break.
At least, that's what she believed.