The sun was already dipping low when their carriage rolled to a halt before the grand Zhenka estate. The sprawling manor loomed proudly against the horizon, its marble pillars catching the last rays of amber light, windows glowing like jewels as servants rushed about with lamps. The air itself seemed to hum with noble dignity, every brick and banner declaring the family's station as guardians of the West.
When Aquila and Zuleika stepped down—assisted gracefully by their attendants—a hush fell among the gathered nobles at the courtyard. Murmurs rippled through the air.
"Look at their poise…"
"The Crown Princess of Nexus is more radiant in person…"
"And the Princess of Revazkerio, so striking…"
The Duke of Zhenka, tall and broad-shouldered with hair touched by gray, approached with a warm but firm smile. At his side, the Duchess—elegant, poised, with eyes sharp as the sea breeze of the West—dipped in a refined curtsy.
"Your Highnesses," the Duke intoned, bowing low. "It is our highest honor to welcome the Crown Princess of Nexus and the Princess of Revazkerio into our halls."
Zuleika returned his bow with practiced grace, a faint smile curving her lips. "The honor is ours, Duke Zhenka. Your estate is as grand as the stories say."
The Duchess's lips quirked with amusement. "Stories always fall short, I'm afraid. It is people who make the halls grand, not stone. And tonight, your presence ensures that."
Aquila inclined her head politely, her silver eyes steady. "We thank you for your hospitality." Her voice carried a subtle steel, calm yet commanding, earning hushed admiration from nearby nobles.
The Duchess gestured toward the towering double doors, now opened wide with golden light spilling from within. "Come, Your Highnesses. The feast awaits. Our daughter has been most eager to meet you both."
As they began walking up the polished steps, Zuleika leaned ever so slightly toward Aquila, her lips quirking. "They're staring holes through us," she whispered, amusement dancing in her tone.
Aquila's gaze flicked briefly to the side where clusters of nobles whispered and pointed, then straight ahead again. "Let them stare. If they have nothing better to do, that is their own waste of time."
Inside, chandeliers glittered above a vast hall lined with tapestries of the West's proudest battles at sea. Tables stretched long, laden with delicacies, while music from a string ensemble floated through the air. As the nobles bowed deeply upon their entrance, the atmosphere shifted—the arrival of royalty had stilled the room, making every gaze converge on the two princesses.
The Duchess's voice broke the silence smoothly. "Welcome to our home, Your Highnesses. Tonight, we celebrate not only our daughter's coming of age, but also the ties that bind the West to the Empire."
Zuleika's crimson eyes gleamed as she swept the hall with her gaze. "Then let us celebrate well," she said warmly. "For such bonds deserve nothing less."
The celebration was in full swing now—the nobles had raised their glasses, laughter mingled with the music, and servants wove between tables carrying trays of delicacies. Aquila sat with the poised dignity expected of her rank, a glass of golden wine in her hand, her expression unreadable as ever.
Beside her, Zuleika was less… dignified. She leaned in closer, lowering her voice but not enough to avoid being overheard by the nearest servant.
"When are they serving the food? I swear, I'll faint if I have to listen to one more toast about 'honor and loyalty.'" She rested her chin on her palm dramatically, crimson eyes scanning the long table. "Do you think they have seafood? They better have seafood. This is the West, for crying out loud. If there's no fish, that's a crime against nature."
Aquila slowly turned her head, silver eyes narrowing at her. "You sound like a starving pirate."
Zuleika gasped, "Pirate? How dare you. I'm the heir of Nexus—I have standards. I only raid the finest ships."
"Unbelievable…" Aquila muttered, swirling her wine with a sigh.
Zuleika leaned closer, smirking. "What, you don't like seafood? Don't tell me you're one of those boring nobles who only eats salads and grapes."
"I eat properly," Aquila replied flatly, taking a measured sip of her wine.
Zuleika tilted her head. "So… no fish?"
Aquila set her glass down with deliberate care, glaring. "If you mention fish one more time, Zuleika, I will make sure you don't get any."
Zuleika froze, eyes wide, then grinned wickedly. "Ohhh, so there is fish."
Aquila exhaled through her nose, clearly regretting every life choice that had led her here.
The music shifted to a lighter melody as the nobles made space, and soon the young lady of the hour arrived. Kylie Zhenka, radiant in a gown of emerald and silver, walked gracefully toward the high table. Her cheeks glowed with excitement as she bowed politely before the two princesses.
"Your Highnesses," she greeted, her voice warm yet trembling with nerves. "It is an honor to have you here on this special night. My family and I are deeply grateful."
Aquila inclined her head with the dignity of a seasoned royal, her expression cool but courteous.
Zuleika, on the other hand, straightened in her chair, crimson eyes softening as she donned the mask of regal poise. Her smile was perfectly measured, polished. "Lady Kylie, the honor is ours. We congratulate you on this celebration. May the West continue to thrive under the protection of your house."
Kylie blinked, then tilted her head with a grin. "My, you sound just like my tutors when they try to lecture me. I was half expecting you to start reciting a history lesson."
That caught Zuleika off guard. Her lips parted, and for a second she struggled to hold her dignified air. Then, like a crack splitting glass, her composure broke into a laugh. She slapped a hand lightly on the table. "A history lesson? Gods forbid! Don't curse me with that fate."
Kylie laughed, delighted, leaning closer. "Oh, so you can laugh! Good—I was worried you were going to be perfectly proper all night."
Zuleika leaned back with a mock gasp, hand to her chest. "Perfectly proper? Me? Please, I can barely keep a straight face."
Their laughter melted together, light and genuine.
Beside them, Aquila's fingers tightened around her wine glass. Her gaze never left the golden liquid as it swirled inside, but her silver eyes flickered sideways once, sharp and brief, to where Zuleika's laughter mixed so easily with Kylie's.
The sound grated against her patience. Too loud. Too careless. Too… distracting.
She pressed her lips tighter, her face unreadable, even as her ears caught every word.
The joyful chatter between Zuleika and Lady Kylie carried on, laughter spilling freely from Zuleika's lips. She didn't notice, not even once, when Aquila quietly rose from her seat and slipped out of the hall.
It wasn't until the food was served, platters of roasted game and bowls of steaming vegetables filling the table, that Zuleika turned to her side to comment—only to find the seat empty.
Her brows furrowed. "…Where did she—?"
She scanned the table, then the crowd, her gaze weaving through clusters of nobles. Still nothing. Confused, she excused herself politely, pushing back her chair.
"Forgive me, my lady," she told Kylie with a soft smile. "Please, enjoy your meal."
As she walked, nobles intercepted her with greetings, forced laughter, and shallow pleasantries. Zuleika donned her mask again, offering practiced smiles, bowing her head gracefully, all the while asking quietly if anyone had seen Princess Aquila. Most blinked in surprise, some shook their heads.
Finally, one noblewoman raised a fan to her lips and said, "Ah, I believe Her Highness went that way—toward the rest chambers."
Zuleika inclined her head. "Thank you."
She slipped into the deeper halls of the estate, quieter now, the laughter of the feast fading into muffled echoes behind her. The torches along the walls flickered, casting long shadows across polished stone. She reached the restroom—empty.
"…Strange," she murmured, tilting her head. She glanced left, then right, eyes narrowing.
That's when she heard it. A faint sound, muffled voices leaking through a door not far down the corridor.
Zuleika's steps softened to silence as she approached. She pressed close, listening carefully.
"The only Princess of Feltogora…" The Duke's voice. Deep, cold. "…Remove her. Quietly. We might be able to stand a chance with the Empire then."
Her eyes widened. The words were knives in her chest, cold and sharp. Assassinate… Aquila.
A faint shift of movement to her left made her heart jolt. She turned—and found herself staring into Aquila's silver eyes. The princess stood there, brows furrowed in suspicion, lips parting as she opened her mouth.
"What are—"
Before she could finish, Zuleika lunged forward. Her palm pressed firmly over Aquila's mouth. Crimson eyes darted back to the door, sharp and calculating. Inside, the voices had gone silent. Footsteps followed. Approaching.
"Quiet," Zuleika mouthed, barely a whisper.
Aquila stiffened, eyes flashing in anger, but before she could struggle, Zuleika caught her wrist and tugged her into the nearest room. The door closed behind them with a faint click, the sound too loud in the heavy silence.
The chamber was dark. Only a sliver of moonlight spilled from the window, painting pale light across their faces.
Aquila tore Zuleika's hand away, hissing in a whisper, "What are you—"
But her words faltered. Zuleika's eyes weren't on her. They were locked on the door, glowing faintly crimson in the dark, her gaze cold, dangerous, murderous. A predator ready to strike.
The doorknob rattled. Slowly, the door creaked open, the sound slicing through the silence like a blade.
Before Aquila could even draw breath, Zuleika moved—swift, decisive. One arm snaked around her waist, hard and unyielding, yanking her gently back against the cold wall. The impact stole the air from her lungs. Her body stiffened, her pulse hammering wildly in her throat.
The other hand rose with startling precision, fingers sliding against the delicate line of her nape. Zuleika's palm was hot, commanding, her thumb brushing over Aquila's cheek with a tenderness so jarringly at odds with the raw tension that it sent sparks racing down her skin.
Aquila froze, wide-eyed, as Zuleika lowered her head. Warm breath fanned across her lips—then their mouths touched. Soft. Unyielding.
The world tilted.
Aquila's heart lurched in her chest, the beat so erratic it felt as if it might burst. Her thoughts scattered, her mind blank and useless. Heat flared where Zuleika's mouth pressed, a dizzying warmth that stole her breath. She couldn't react. Couldn't even move.
Zuleika didn't close her eyes. No.
Her crimson gaze, sharp and burning, didn't leave the intruder in the doorway. Past Aquila's cheek, her eyes locked with the Duke's—and in that instant, her glare was a blade unsheathed.
Predatory. Merciless. A promise of ruin.
The Duke faltered mid-step, caught off guard. His breath stilled in his chest. All he saw was Zuleika—her figure bent over another, lips sealed in a stolen kiss, eyes blazing like fire in the darkness.
For a heartbeat, he froze, struck still by the feral warning in her glare. Then, as if burned, he recoiled. The door shut in a panicked haste, the sound echoing before silence reclaimed the chamber.
Darkness swallowed them whole once again.
But Zuleika's lips lingered a beat longer on Aquila's, warm, deliberate, sending shivers through her skin. Only when the faint sound of retreating footsteps vanished down the hall did Zuleika finally pull back.
Her breath was warm against Aquila's cheek, her eyes still narrowed in that same deadly glare, but softer now, softened by something else.
Aquila stood frozen, her back pressed to the wall, hands trembling slightly at her sides. Her lips tingled with heat, her chest rising and falling too quickly.
She didn't speak. Couldn't.
Zuleika tilted her head, crimson eyes finally meeting hers fully.
"…Forgive me," she whispered, her voice low, husky, edged with a dangerous kind of calm. "But that was the only way."
Aquila's lips twitched, finally catching up with what had just happened. Her chest rose sharply, silver eyes narrowing as she stammered, "Y–You—"
Her brows furrowed hard, the flush on her ears crawling down to her nape. Mortified, she slapped the back of her hand against her lips like a flimsy shield, as if that would erase the lingering heat.
Zuleika only blinked at her, crimson eyes wide, her expression the picture of innocence. She even tilted her head slightly, voice low and lilting as she whispered, "Princess Aquila?" As if she hadn't just stolen her breath moments ago.
Poink!
Aquila's other hand shot out and smacked Zuleika squarely on the head. Not hard enough to hurt, but sharp enough to make the sound echo faintly in the dark chamber.