The forest stretched wide, sunlight filtering through green canopies. Horses stamped and hounds barked as the royal hunting party set out. Vanda rode at the front, silent and commanding, while Rosa remained close at his side, dressed in riding leathers designed more for display than comfort.
Behind them, Daya struggled to keep up, carrying a pack far too heavy for her small frame. Her breath came in gasps, but the overseer's whip kept her moving.
Vanda's sharp eyes caught everything, though he said nothing. Not yet.
As the hunt began, nobles laughed and shouted, loosing arrows at fleeing deer. Rosa rode recklessly, desperate to draw Vanda's gaze. But it was another cry that pierced the air — a servant's scream.
Daya.
She had stumbled near a ravine, the pack dragging her down. Rosa's lips curled into a cruel smile as she urged her horse forward, pretending not to see.
But Vanda had already moved. His stallion thundered across the forest floor, and in a single motion, he reached down, seizing Daya's arm and pulling her to safety before she could tumble into the gorge.
Gasps echoed through the hunting party. Rosa's face darkened.
Vanda dismounted, setting Daya gently on her feet. His voice was curt, but his eyes burned. "Who ordered her to carry this weight?"
The overseer stammered, paling. Vanda's glare silenced him before he could form an excuse.
"Fools," Vanda growled. "Do you not know a servant's life is still a life?"
Daya bowed low, trembling, her voice soft. "Thank you, Your Highness."
For the first time, Vanda's lips curved into the faintest smile. "Stand. Do not bow for saving what should never have been endangered."
But in Rosa's heart, hatred deepened to something darker.