Zaranina jolted awake.
For a brief moment, she stared blankly at the velvet , graffiti patterned ceiling, her breath shallow but steady. A dull ache throbbed in the middle of her forehead — a slight, rhythmic bang, like the aftermath of a storm she couldn't quite remember. Her face felt sore and bloated, as if sleep had wrung it too tightly over night.
She wiped her face with her hand and sat up slowly, blinking away the remnants of the night, then reached instinctively for the gold-embroidered curtain hanging a metre away from her bedside.
With a wave of her fingers — precise, practiced — the drapes magically peeled apart. Morning light poured into the chamber like a broken dam. Sun rays flooded the marble floor, glinting against the mirror-polished furniture and the crystal chandelier shone brightly in the light.
She stretched to full length like a cat, arching her back, and yawned like a python poised to swallow a pregnant deer.
"Ugh... Not again," she muttered with a sigh, rubbing her temples. "Why does every morning feel like I wrestled with the gods?"
Still in her satiny nightgown, she slid her legs from under the silk covers and placed her feet on the heated floor. Her royal insignia ring and diamond tiara lying on the dressing table glinted as she reached for her robe.
The framed picture of her mother, Queen Winona fell off the table with a sharp,v clanking sound. She quickly bent and picked it up, wiping it with the edge of her robe. It was seventeen years already since she died but it looked like a century gone and she seemed to miss her greatly every passing day. Her eyes grew moist as she hugged the picture and kissed it tenderly, putting it back into its original position.
A knock — no, a tap. Soft and coded. She already deciphered. Three fast knocks, then a pause, and one final knock. It was the morning signal.
Zaranina didn't respond. She wondered if the palace servants always had her on close tabs. Maybe she just had no choice but to fish out and smash into thousand fragments the hidden CCTV camera footage that was secretly implanted in her room to check on her movements.
The double doors creaked open slightly, and two girls stepped in, heads bowed, palms touching their chests in salute.
"Good morning, my princess," Reina said, eyes lowered respectfully. Her auburn hair was pinned in a bun, her blue maid uniform starched and neat. Quaintly beautiful, Reina Ruins was more than her personal handmaid. She was absolute wisdom wedded to wits.
"Your Highness, the bath has been drawn," Sally added. She was the younger of the two — all bright eyes and eager gestures, her voice laced with morning energy. "And breakfast is waiting in the dining. Chef Levik made you honey-drizzled croissants and lavender tea... just as you asked."
Zaranina let the silence stretch. Her eyes trailed lazily across the girls, calculating something invisible. Then, with the faintest smirk, she said:
"Did I ask, Sally? Or did you just assume?"
Sally's face paled. She glanced sideways at Reina in panic.
"Your Highness… you—uhm—yesterday evening you said—"
"I whispered it," Zaranina interrupted. "To Gwen my cat."
Reina stepped forward calmly. "Forgive us, Princess. We thought it wise to prepare your usual after a stressful night."
Zaranina rose to her full height, letting the tension simmer. Then she burst into a laugh — low, throaty, amused. "Relax, girls. I'm just playing."
Sally let out a breath of relief, then smiled nervously.
"But," Zaranina continued, gliding toward her vanity, "you were right. It was really a stressful night."
She paused, staring at her own reflection in the wall mirror— the puffiness under her eyes, the faint red marks on her neck. Memories returned in jagged, raw flashes. The secret meeting in the northern tower. The whispering shadows on her way to Hillsdale.
"You didn't see anyone come in last night, did you?" she asked suddenly, voice sharp.
Reina stiffened. "No, Your Highness. The royal guards confirmed the corridors were secure."
Zaranina narrowed her eyes at the mirror, trying to pin her hair in place. "Interesting."
Reina tried to divert. "Would you like help with your hair, ma'am? Your floral gown has been steamed and is ready. Or would you prefer the emerald silk with the plunging neckline?"
"Emerald," Zaranina said without hesitation. "If we're going to cause a scandal today, might as well do it in green."
Sally chuckled softly, then quickly covered her mouth, head still bent.
Zaranina turned around slowly, arms folded. "Do I amuse you, little dove?"
"No, ma'am! I mean, yes ma'am. I mean—only when you want to be."
That earned her a real smile.
Zaranina walked gracefully to the bathing chamber, the train of her robe clutching against the floor. As she reached the marble threshold, she paused.
"Bring my silver pendant," she said to Reina. "The one from my mother's last memorial. And don't forget the gemstones I placed under my pillow."
Both maids bowed in honour.
"As you wish, Princess."
"And Reina?" Zaranina added, without turning.
"Yes, Your Highness?"
"If anyone asks where I was last night…"
She glanced over her shoulder, her eyes now sharp, glinting with secrets.
"…Tell them I slept like a baby."
Then she disappeared into the misty chamber, and the doors closed behind her with a soft click.
***********
Hot steam billowed gently through the tiled alcove, perfuming the air with orange blossom and pomegranate oil. The royal bathing chamber was carved from ivory marble, warm beneath the feet and glowing under the faint shimmer of candlelight and hanging lanterns. In the center, a sunken tub the size of a garden pond rippled with scented water, its surface garnished with petals of blue lotus and rose.
Zaranina reclined in the tub, her long, wavy obsidian hair floating behind her like ink in water, her arms spread lazily across the tub's carved edges. Golden bowls clinked softly as her maids bathed her.
Sally, kneeling by her side, applied a thick scrub to her back — a blend of crushed lavender, sea salt, and wild honey. The mixture glistened on her bronze skin like dewdrops on polished stone.
Reina moved around the opposite edge of the tub, working the perfumed lather through Zaranina's hair with expert hands. She was quiet at first, always respectful, until Zaranina gave her the cue.
"You're practically boiling with information," Zaranina said at last, eyes half-closed, relishing in the nice work going on her skin. "Spill it. Before I drown in suspense."
Reina smirked, followed with a knowing grin. "As always, you read minds, Princess."
Sally giggled softly.
Zaranina turned her head. "As for you not minds, Reina. Faces. Yours is an open book with no locked chapters."
Reina cleared her throat. "Very well then. Last night, while the palace snored, the king, your father met with the four prominent cabinet rulers — the opulent heads of each province: Lord Atticus of Hillsdale, Lord Goldine of Goldmere, Lady Cosima of Rebrax, and Lord Leif of the East Marsh."
Zaranina's brow arched. "The Night Circle?"
Reina nodded. "Absolutely. It was unplanned, my princess. No official summons. And no royal scribes present. Only the High Chancellor knew. I snuck in through the lattice vents above the lounge chamber. I heard every word."
Sally gasped. "Reina! That's treason!"
"It's survival," Reina countered coolly.
Zaranina didn't interrupt — only listened, the scrub now forgotten as a deeper tension soaked into the warm water.
"They discussed a letter, Princess. Sealed in black wax. It came from the Kingdom of Vellk two days ago, via a silent rider. They demand full scouring rights to two rivers."
Zaranina sat up slightly. "Which rivers?"
"The River of Diamonds and the River of Onyx," Reina said darkly.
A slow frown crept across Zaranina's face. "Those are our twin veins — our oldest waters. Why those two? Why not from the other five?"
"Because they're not just rich," Sally cut in, rinsing the scrub from Zaranina's shoulders. "They're enchanted."
Zaranina turned her gaze to the young maid, intrigued.
"The Onyx stones," Sally said, her voice low and wary, "were crafted by the earth witches in the Old Age. They hold elemental memory — water, wind, earth, and fire. The mages of Vellk can use them to forge spells that twist the seasons, command storms, even cloak dangerous armies during wars."
Reina nodded. "And the diamonds from the riverbed are not ordinary either. They are soul-crystals, believed to absorb intent. They amplify light magic... or dark, depending on the wielder."
Zaranina's grip on the tub tightened. "We've paid tribute to Vellk for twenty-two winters. Livestock, spices, gold bars, scarlet rice, silken tapestries woven with the most expensive thread — even slaves from Babyl. And this is how they repay us?"
Reina dropped her voice. "They claimed it was in the spirit of balance. That Babyl controls five rivers, Vellk two. But Princess... something tells me they don't just want balance."
"They want dominance," Zaranina finished.
Sally's hands trembled slightly as she lowered a jug and poured warm sandalwood water over Zaranina's hair. "Do you think they're preparing for war?"
"Not war," Zaranina whispered, eyes unfocused. "Not yet. They're preparing for something else... something deeper."
Reina moved closer, pressing a towel gently to her skin. "The king... he agreed. For the sake of 'peace.' He signed the Moon Seal. Come spring, Vellk will send boats, mages, and earth-scourers to strip the twin rivers."
A bitter silence followed. The type that leaves you wondering what would happen next.
Zaranina rose from the bath slowly, water cascading down her frame like silver rain. Her eyes were cold and brutal now. Measured. Icy. A storm brewing beneath still waters.
"Prepare my red gown," she said. "With the black boots."
Reina blinked. "But that ensemble is for war councils."
"Exactly."
She stepped onto the heated floor, her maids moving quickly to wrap her in a towel, laced with crushed violets.
Zaranina turned to face the arched mirror as her maids departed for awhile. Her reflection stared back — strong, royal, deeply troubled.
"They think Babyl is asleep." She said it not as a question, but a judgment. Her eyes flickered red like that of a cat's and her hair rose mid-air.