Valerius strode through the grand, echoing halls of the main palace with his scent of his expensive cologne lingering like smoke. He had just left Lyra's wing, and irritation pulsed beneath his skin, tangled with something far more disconcerting, something he couldn't quite name.
Lyra.
The very name tasted strange now, like an ill-fitting title assigned to someone he no longer recognized.
He was four years her senior, old enough to remember her as the frail and quiet child they'd brought into the palace after her mother's death. He remembered her wide, hopeful eyes and her absurd little gifts, where a clumsy sketch left on his desk, a shy compliment about his horsemanship, or worse, that time she tried to join their games, trying to insert her little self within their circle.
Always trying. Always failing.
A servant's daughter in noble robes, how laughable.
Then one memory clung to him, one persistent as a shadow.
He had just finished sparring that day where his tunic clinging to his sweat-slicked back and the metallic taste of triumph is still sharp in his mouth. Servants had just gathered to clear the training yard and the sun cast a golden hue across the polished stones.
Then she came.
Lyra.
Just a child and barely ten, her legs slightly too short to keep pace and her steps are quite cautious. Then she clutched something tightly behind her back while her cheeks flushed with a mixture of pride and apprehension, and of course a glitter of hope in her round eyes.
"Brother," she'd said with her voice barely above a whisper, soft and uncertain yet radiant with hope.
He remembered frowning and annoyed by the interruption but she stepped closer, holding out a small, homespun handkerchief with both of her small hands. The cloth was rough and the stitches are uneven, then in one corner, there's a crooked letter "V" trembled in blue thread.
That is her first embroidery attempt, no doubt.
"Here, take it so you can wipe your sweat when you train," she said with a small smile while her eyes wide with anticipation.
Valerius took it. He saw that the edges were frayed, the color clashed with his uniform, and the whole thing stank of childish affection.
He sneered.
"This?" he scoffed, loud enough for the other servants and knights to hear. "You think I'd use this in front of anyone?"
And before her hands could even lower, he tossed it casually and carelessly into a muddy puddle near the fence. Then the silence that followed was deafening. She didn't speak but her smile faltered slowly, like a candle guttering in wind. Her small fingers are also now curled at her side while her eyes locked on the now-soiled cloth soaking in the mud.
He expected her to cry that time. To run off and to protest, maybe but she didn't. She just stood there silent and unmoving while the pain lodged deep in her eyes.
Not outrage and not fury. Just something quieter and sadder as though something in her had cracked.
"Tsk, boring…" he uttered then he walked away while his steps ringing louder than necessary across the stones, also with a tight heart but he didn't look back.
And yet now, years later, it haunted him not because he remembered the cloth but because she had never offered him anything again. She stopped appearing in front of him, stop pleasing him and treated him like he was not his brother. Well, he also never treated her like his sister so they are quite even.
He then stopped beside one of the arched windows overlooking the South wing. Outside, the training courtyard rang with the crisp sound of steel where the knights moved like a unit, sharp and disciplined. There was something new in their stances now as if they looked alive and motivated unlike those previous days he had observed.
"Do you still have something to say, Your Highness?"
The words played again in his mind sharp and deliberate. That tone and that distance where there is no attempt to appease. Back then, she had always called him "Brother" but now, it was gone.
Formality had replaced the familiarity. She hadn't even cared enough to be angry.
Valerius then scoffed under his breath. "Perhaps the fall had scrambled her thoughts. That had to be it." He added with certainty and yet… the look in her eyes had unsettled him.
Cold and calculating. Not vacant, but observing and judging. It wasn't the silence of submission anymore that he had anticipated.
Later that afternoon, as the moon cast pale light through the high library windows, a summons arrived, delivered by a palace attendant whose tone was flat and almost dismissive. "My lady, His Majesty requests your presence at dinner this evening. It is the first of the month."
Lyra, seated at her desk with her quill paused only briefly. "Very well. I shall attend."
Marta, arranging scrolls nearby, hesitated. "My lady… perhaps one of the new gowns? The silks you have left from His Majesty's gif—"
"No," Lyra said calmly. "I'd prefer to wear the dress I chose myself. Will you help me change?" she added, offering Marta a faint, polite smile.
Marta blinked in surprise, then gave an awkward grin. "Oh, my lady, you don't need to be so formal with me."
It was the same simple dress, a faded lavender with subtle embroidery at the cuffs. It was neither flashy nor refined and intentionally plain because she did not want to draw attention at this moment.
Not yet.
When Lyra arrived, the vast royal dining hall gleamed with gold, marble, and crystal chandeliers. Velvet drapes swayed in the breeze, and every corner was spotless. At the head sat her father, stiff and unreadable while Seraphina watched nervously, Valerius lounged with his wine and Caius sat silent and precise.
Lyra entered last, stepping into the fading light of the room as though she had emerged from another world entirely. With measured grace, she walked to her designated seat and it's at the far end of the table, near the cold hearth. Before sitting, she paused and offered a composed bow of her head.
"Good evening, Your Majesty. Your Highness princess Seraphina, Your Highness prince Valerius and Your Highness prince Caius."
The king paused mid-sip. His eyes which usually glazed with disinterest snapped to her, faint surprise etched in the creases around his mouth. She had never addressed him like that before. No "Father." Just the title, clean and clinical.
He then set the goblet down slowly while his gaze narrowing. Valerius, gulped and grunted and Caius glanced sideways with faint amusement in his eyes. Seraphina, on the other hand, just shrank slightly.
And just like that, dinner began in silence.
The meal went on as usual with dry roast bird, overcooked vegetables with no flavor and bland wine that dulled her taste buds. And the conversation moved from border unrest to the shortage of grain in the southern provinces. Then Valerius swirled his wine lazily and snorted. "They're a waste, Father," he said. "Why keep guards at a palace no one lives in?"
The king did not respond.
Caius then glanced at Lyra, sharp and knowing. He had noticed the change in the knights and he wasn't stupid not to notice it but he stayed quiet. Despite the little talks that people around her have, Lyra sat still, watching each speaker and catching every word and expression. She no longer tried to join in and forcefully include herself like before.
Valerius leaned back, squinting at her. "You look different, little sister. Did the fall shake something loose?"
Lyra met his gaze calmly. "I don't think so, Your Highness. It's just, I don't remember much after that."
A flicker of confusion or maybe fear crossed his face before the room fell silent but when dinner ended, Lyra stayed by the hearth while the candles burning low. Caius then passed her, pausing at the doorway.
"Change suits you," he said, voice low and unreadable. "Stay that way. Quiet and someone who knows your place."
He didn't wait for an answer but Lyra spoke softly and steady. "Don't worry, Your Highness. You won't be bothered by me ever again." She said and that, for a moment unsettled something inside him.
Once, she had wanted a real place at that table but now, she only saw a family of statues and gold on the outside that's rotting from within. It's like she never want to include herself anymore in that place.