The morning sun filtered faintly through the curtains of Aquila's chamber, though she had not slept a wink. Her gaze lingered on the block of wood and the knife set upon her table. Restlessness gnawed at her, and before she could stop herself, she slipped on her gloves and sat down.
It was only two days before Princess Zuleika's departure.
Her thoughts tangled—memories of their banter, the way Zuleika's laughter rang against her ears, the stolen kisses that still burned faintly on her lips. Aquila caught herself smiling, then quickly brushed it off, pressing her lips into a thin line.
"Hmm," she muttered under her breath, tapping the blade against the wood. "What should I make her?"
Her mind raced back to a certain day—Zuleika proudly holding up a clumsy carving she'd made herself. It was meant to be a fish, though to Aquila's eyes, it looked more like a deformed piece of driftwood.
"She likes… a fish, right?" Aquila whispered, tilting her head.
"I remember her making one before, but it looked… nothing like a fish." A small huff escaped her. "Then a fish, it is."
She set the knife against the grain and began to carve. Hours slipped by in silence, broken only by the soft scrape of metal on wood. She stopped only to stretch her fingers or sip water before diving back into her work, stubbornly determined to finish before sunset.
By the time the golden light of dusk poured through her chamber, the fish was complete. The carved wood bore graceful curves, finer than she had expected, lifelike enough that it almost seemed as though it could swim away if placed in water.
For a moment, Aquila allowed herself to admire it. Then her gaze fell upon her wrist—the bracelet of dark turquoise and red beads that Zuleika had given her. Her thumb brushed over the beads, and despite herself, her lips curved.
She still did not understand it. She still hadn't realized what this feeling inside her was. All she knew was that she was… happy. Happy in a way she hadn't been for years.
Her reverie was broken by the sound of the chamber door opening.
The Crown Prince stepped inside, his expression unreadable. Aquila turned, slipping off her gloves. "What is it, Brother?"
Matthew regarded her for a long moment before speaking. "Will you help me?"
The following afternoon, Zuleika's chamber was alight with her laughter. She sat before the mirror, her excitement barely contained as Cess brushed out her hair.
"What are you so excited about, Your Highness?" Cess asked, arching a brow.
"Oh, oh! I'll receive a gift from Aquila," Zuleika replied, her crimson eyes gleaming with a warmth Cess had not seen in a long while.
Her smile was radiant.
"Where is Rhys, by the way?" she added absentmindedly.
"Captain Rhys went down to the capital to buy something for his sister," Cess answered, carefully finishing the last strokes of the brush.
"Ohhh, right…" Zuleika rose to her feet, twirling lightly in her gown before turning to face Cess with that same infectious smile. "I'll be back, Cess."
Cess returned the smile, her tone light as she said, "Enjoy, Your Highness."
She waved as Zuleika crossed the chamber, opening the door with eager steps.
But the wave faltered halfway. That smile. That happiness. That carefree expression—Cess didn't know it then, but it would be the last time she would see her mistress beaming so brightly.
...….
Zuleika walked down the grand halls of the palace, humming softly under her breath. Her steps were light, unhurried, as though she were savoring the moment itself. Every so often she stopped to smooth her skirt or adjust a loose strand of hair, her reflection briefly caught in the tall mirrors that lined the corridor.
The servants she passed by bowed respectfully, and in return she offered each one of them a smile so warm that it lingered even after she had walked past. Anyone who saw her could tell—she was happy, radiantly so.
When she reached the staircase, however, her steps faltered at the sound of a voice.
"Princess Zuleika," came the soft call.
Zuleika turned, finding herself face-to-face with the head maid, the woman who was often seen at Aquila's side. Her expression was carefully composed, and she bowed low before speaking.
"Oh," Zuleika greeted, tilting her head with her usual brightness.
"Princess Aquila is still preparing," the maid explained with a calm, respectful tone. "She has asked that you wait for her in another chamber."
"Really?" Zuleika's brows arched in mild surprise, but her smile only widened. "She's making me wait, hm?"
"Yes, Your Highness. Please follow me."
The maid bowed again before turning to lead the way.
Zuleika followed with no hesitation, humming again under her breath as her eyes wandered. Soon, they entered another wing of the palace—this one adorned with sweeping arches, gilded moldings, and high windows that bathed the corridor in soft light. It was far more exquisite than the other halls she had seen, polished and untouched as though reserved for something greater.
Her lips curved into a little giggle. So that's why…
She must be preparing something grand. Aquila, you're really putting effort into this, aren't you?
Her heart beat faster with excitement. She could already imagine Aquila standing there, perhaps holding something carved with those careful hands of hers.
I wonder what she'll give me…
The thought made her cheeks warm. She couldn't stop the gleam in her eyes nor the anticipation bubbling in her chest.
Finally, they stopped before a large set of doors. The head maid bowed once more.
"Here we are, Your Highness."
"Thank you," Zuleika said sweetly before pushing the door open.
The chamber inside was silent. Her gaze wandered, taking in the sight—a room touched with elegance, a table at its center, couches neatly arranged, and a bed at the far end. It was a little strange, but she didn't dwell on it.
Instead, she strolled in casually and settled onto the couch, resting her hands neatly in her lap, her crimson eyes sparkling.
She leaned back against the cushions, humming again as she waited.
For Aquila.
There was already a tea set laid out on the table. Zuleika poured herself a cup, the faint fragrance rising as she took a delicate sip while waiting. The warmth settled her, and she hummed softly once more, a picture of ease.
Time slipped by unnoticed. The sun dipped low, its golden light filtering weakly through the windows until the chamber was bathed in a dusky glow.
Then—the door creaked open.
Zuleika instantly brightened. She stood quickly, smoothing her dress, her crimson eyes lighting up as her lips curved into a smile. Her heart leapt as she turned toward the figure entering.
But—
Her smile faltered.
It wasn't the one she was expecting.
The figure who stepped inside was Crown Prince Matthew, draped in a dark robe that seemed almost to swallow the fading light.
Zuleika blinked in confusion, lips parting as she tried to process. "Your Highness?" she asked carefully.
He didn't answer. His eyes, cold and heavy, locked onto her and didn't waver. Then, without a word, he started walking toward her—slow, deliberate steps that echoed faintly in the still room.
Her brows furrowed. "Uh… where is Princess Aquila?"
"She won't come," Matthew said flatly.
The words froze her in place. "What do you mean?"
"I asked for her help. So, she won't come."
Her lips parted, her chest tightening as she instinctively stepped back. A thousand thoughts spun through her head, colliding, confusing—
She won't come?
Matthew asked for her help?
What does that mean?
Her temples throbbed with the force of it.
Before she could demand answers, Matthew closed the space between them. His hand shot up, his shadow falling over her, and before she could react, he leaned in and crushed his lips against hers.
Her eyes widened—then fury surged. Zuleika shoved him back with all her strength, staggering a few steps away. Her crimson eyes blazed as she glared.
"What are you trying to d—"
Her words broke off. A sudden dizziness swept over her, her vision swimming. She clutched at her chest, her breath catching, staggering as the world tilted.
Poison?
What—where?
Her mind reeled. Then it struck her. The tea. The tea she had sipped so casually while waiting.
Matthew's voice cut through her panic, cold and unfeeling. "It's no use."
She gasped, trying to steady herself, forcing words past her trembling lips. "D-don't you dare… come closer to me…" Her voice cracked, weak but laced with defiance.
But her legs wavered, her body betraying her.