The air behind the Palace of Vasiliou was alive with the soft rustle of leaves and the gentle chatter of birds. A vast forest stretched out against the slope of the distant mountains, its emerald canopy rising and falling like waves frozen in time. Patches of sunlight filtered through the branches, painting the ground with a dappled mosaic of gold and green. The scent of pine and fresh soil lingered in the cool breeze, carrying with it the distant murmur of a mountain stream.
Within this serene wilderness, two figures strode side by side: King Stewart of Nexus and his daughter, Princess Zuleika.
The King wore his hunting attire—midnight blue fabric lined with silver trim, tailored to fit him with both ease and majesty. Even in practicality, his presence carried an undeniable authority, as if royalty was woven into the very threads of his garments. Zuleika mirrored him in elegance, though her hunting suit was lighter in tone, crafted from supple teal leather. Her long teal hair, tied neatly back into a ribbon, swayed with each determined stride. At her side hung her elegantly designed crossbow, its frame carved with coral-like patterns that glistened faintly in the light.
The two moved with practiced ease, their boots crunching softly against the moss and fallen leaves.
"You've been eager for this since dawn," King Stewart said, glancing at his daughter with a smirk. "Do you plan to outshoot me, little one?"
"Little one?" Zuleika scoffed, adjusting her grip on the crossbow. "I've bested every knight in training when it comes to aim. Don't think I'll let you win so easily, Father."
The King chuckled, the sound deep and hearty, echoing faintly in the trees. "Confidence suits you, but let us see if skill matches the words."
Farther behind them, at the forest's edge, Queen Elisha sat gracefully beneath a canopy of shade, joined by her younger children. A table had been set for tea, the porcelain cups gleaming white with delicate patterns of silver coral etched into their rims. Princess Eloisa, radiant even in her simplicity, poured tea with a soft smile while Steven and Elijah, the ever-energetic twins, quarreled playfully over a plate of pastries.
"You've already had two, Steven," Elijah said, tugging the plate away. "Leave the last one for Eloisa."
"I need the strength for training," Steven countered, puffing out his chest in mock seriousness. "Besides, you're the one who eats like a wolf when no one's looking."
Eloisa covered her mouth with her hand, giggling. "You two are impossible. Here—" she broke the pastry in half, offering each a piece. "Now neither of you can complain."
Queen Elisha's eyes softened at the sight. With her pale blue gown flowing around her and her silver hair pinned back with a coral comb, she seemed less a queen at that moment and more a mother, basking in the warmth of her children.
·________·
Deeper in the forest, Zuleika crouched low behind a cluster of ferns, her eyes fixed on movement in the brush. Her breath stilled, her fingers steady as she raised her crossbow. From the shadows emerged a fox—sleek, russet fur glistening, its bushy tail swaying lazily as it sniffed the ground. It was large, far larger than the common ones seen near villages, and its sharp amber eyes glinted like fire.
Zuleika's lips curved into a grin. "Perfect."
She loosed the bolt. It struck true, swift and precise. The fox fell without a sound, and Zuleika rose triumphantly, brushing stray leaves from her sleeve.
"Not bad," came her father's voice from behind her.
Turning, she expected him to look begrudgingly impressed. But instead, he stepped forward holding something small yet extraordinary in his hands: a rabbit, its fur shimmering faintly as though woven from moonlight itself, its eyes glowing softly with a mystic blue hue.
Zuleika's jaw dropped. "A Mystic Rabbit?!"
Her father chuckled at her astonishment. "They appear only once in a great while, and only to those patient enough to notice. A fox may be fierce, but this—" he lifted the rabbit slightly, careful not to harm it, "—is a rarity worth ten hunts."
Zuleika puffed her cheeks in mock indignation. "Unfair! I hunted the bigger catch!"
"The bigger is not always the greater," the King said with a teasing glint in his eyes. "Lesson one of ruling wisely."
When they returned to the forest's edge, the scene before them shifted from royal dignity into something far more ordinary, far more human.
Eloisa clapped her hands when she saw the fox, while Steven and Elijah leapt to their feet, arguing over who would be the first to touch it. But when King Stewart revealed the Mystic Rabbit, their reactions turned to awe.
"No way!" Steven exclaimed.
"You actually found one?" Elijah added, nearly spilling his tea.
Eloisa's eyes sparkled with delight. "It's beautiful."
Zuleika, however, crossed her arms, frowning. "Everyone's ignoring my fox."
Queen Elisha laughed softly, covering her lips. "It seems your father has stolen your thunder today."
"That's not fair!" Zuleika grumbled, but the corner of her mouth betrayed a smile.
The King lowered himself onto the grass beside his wife, setting aside the Mystic Rabbit with care. For a moment, the image of royalty dissolved—no crowns, no duties, no burdens. Just a family laughing beneath the shade, teasing, bickering, and sharing stories as though the world beyond the forest did not exist.
In those precious moments, they were not the Vasiliou royals of Nexus, but simply Stewart, Elisha, and their children, bound not by crowns but by love.
·________·
Far away, in the cold heart of the Empire of Feltogora, another royal family gathered—but their table was of a different kind.
The dining hall of the Vast Imperial Palace stretched endlessly, its vaulted ceiling lost in shadows, its walls lined with dark banners and golden sigils of conquest. A long table of polished obsidian cut through the room like a blade, its surface gleaming beneath chandeliers of black crystal. The air was cold, heavy with silence.
At the farthest edge, seated at the head, was His Imperial Majesty, Emperor Maximiam Caeser IV Revazkerio. Age had not diminished his authority; if anything, the decades had carved his presence sharper. His hair, once a deep violet-silver, now bore streaks of white, tied neatly behind him. But it was his eyes—golden, piercing, unyielding—that dominated the room.
To his right sat the Crown Prince, Mathew Klyde, posture perfect, expression unreadable. His hair, pale blue like the winter sky, framed eyes of molten gold. To his left, Prince Althurd lounged slightly more casually, though every movement still carried grace. His silver eyes flickered with hidden amusement. Beside him sat Prince Zejidiah Sean, younger, his mismatched silver-gold eyes darting occasionally between his brothers. And finally, Princess Aquila, her gown gleaming faintly under the cold light, her back straight, her silence unbroken.
They ate in near silence, the sound of silver against porcelain echoing in the vast hall. It had been nearly a year since the five of them had sat at this table together, yet no warmth colored their reunion.
At last, the Emperor spoke. His voice was deep, commanding, carrying the weight of a man who had never been questioned.
"Prince Althurd."
Althurd looked up, his smile polite. "Father."
"You have returned from Nexus. Tell me," Maximiam's gaze narrowed, "what did you see?"
Althurd tilted his head thoughtfully, as though savoring the memory. "A kingdom of fools. Nobles and commoners drinking together as if equals, a King who values affection more than fear, and a Princess who hides her strength behind pleasantries." He smirked faintly. "They mistake kindness for power."
The Emperor grunted, his expression unreadable. He turned his golden eyes to the Crown Prince. "Mathew."
The Crown Prince straightened. "Yes, Father."
"You will invite Princess Zuleika to Feltogora. She will remain here for two months as our guest. During this time, you will make her bend—either her heart, or her will. One way or another, she will fall in line." His voice lowered, deliberate. "To ensure compliance, the Empire will lend our mineral mines to Nexus. Let them hesitate before rejecting such generosity."
A heavy silence followed, broken only by the faint drip of wax from the chandeliers.
Mathew inclined his head, his tone perfectly composed. "As you command."
Althurd's smile widened faintly, his silver eyes glinting. "What a pity, brother. If she does not fall for your golden eyes, perhaps she will prefer mine."
The Crown Prince's jaw tightened, though his expression remained controlled. "This is no game, Althurd."
"And yet," Althurd replied softly, his words edged with mockery, "you treat it as if it were."
The tension between them thickened, a silent battle waged through narrowed eyes and sharpened words.
Emperor Maximiam rose, his golden cloak sweeping behind him like the wings of a hawk. "See it done."
With that, he turned and left, his presence lingering even after his footsteps had faded.
The siblings remained at the table. Aquila sipped her wine quietly, her gaze slipping toward her brothers with unease. Zejidiah fiddled absently with his knife, unwilling to speak.
Althurd leaned back in his chair, the smirk never leaving his lips. "Two months," he murmured. "Let us see who claims the jewel of Nexus first."
Mathew's reply was a cold whisper, meant only for him. "Touch her, and it will be the last thing you do."
For a moment, silence reigned. Then Althurd laughed softly, the sound unsettling in its ease.
The Revazkerio table was united by blood, yet divided by ambition. In contrast to the laughter of Nexus, this family carried only silence, tension, and shadows.