In one of the quiet residential neighborhoods on the outskirts of the city—where the noise of the markets faded and the alleys became narrower and more peaceful—Damian walked with steady steps between rows of old houses. The homes stood close together, their stone walls bearing the marks of time, and their small wooden windows slightly open to let in the cool morning air. The scent of fresh bread drifted from a nearby house, while the sound of a wooden broom scraping against the stone ground in a corner of the street gave the place a simple, warm feeling—far removed from the noise of palaces and the towers of mages.
Damian finally stopped in front of a small, modest house, its wooden door faded from the passing of years. He raised his hand and knocked lightly.
Only a few moments passed before the door slowly opened.
An elderly man appeared, his shoulders slightly hunched with age, yet a wide smile spread across his face the moment he saw the visitor.
"Come in, my son."
Damian entered quietly. The house was extremely simple: a small living room with an old wooden table at its center, and on the opposite wall hung a large pendulum clock, its slow movement filling the silence with a steady sound—tick… tick… tick. Wooden shelves filled with old books and small boxes lined the walls, while soft sunlight slipped through a side window, bathing the place in a gentle warmth.
Damian sat on a wooden chair, then raised his hand and removed the mask covering his face. Signs of exhaustion showed clearly on his features from walking across the city.
The old man approached slowly and placed a cup of water in front of him.
"Drink first."
Damian took the cup and drank quickly, as if his thirst had been waiting for that moment. He set it down quietly, then wiped the edge of his lips.
He remained silent for a few seconds.
Then he spoke calmly:
"…Grandfather."
The old man looked at him.
"I wanted to ask… do you have connections here?"
The elderly man paused, as if the question carried him back many years. He sighed slowly, then sat on the chair across from him.
A glimmer of old memories passed through his eyes.
"I've lived in this house for a long time," he said, looking around at the familiar walls.
"I have many neighbors here… and many people I know."
A faint smile appeared on his face.
"It's impossible for me to leave this place."
There was something deeply nostalgic in his voice—not tied to the place itself as much as to the years spent within it.
Damian tilted his head slightly as he looked around in silence. His gaze settled on the large clock on the wall, its pendulum swinging steadily, then moved across the simplicity of the furniture—the old table, the simple wooden chairs, and a slightly worn rug at its edges.
"I understand," he finally said quietly.
Then he looked at the clock again.
"Grandfather… time is passing quickly."
He stood up, adjusting his coat slightly.
"And as you know… I have matters to attend to."
He paused briefly, then lowered his voice before continuing:
"But before I leave…"
He bent slightly and picked up a bag beside the chair. It wasn't very large, but it was wide and heavy enough for its weight to be obvious.
He placed it on the wooden table.
He looked at the old man for a moment.
Then said calmly:
"This is for you."
He added more firmly:
"And you will accept it."
He reached out and opened the bag.
And the moment it opened—
its contents were revealed.
Rows of coins and neatly arranged banknotes—a large sum of money, enough to change the life of someone living so simply.
The old man's eyes widened instantly.
He froze for a moment, as if he couldn't comprehend what he was seeing.
Then his eyes slowly filled with tears.
He looked up at Damian.
And smiled with sincere gratitude, despite the tears in his eyes.
"Thank you, my son."
---
"You seem to be thinking a lot… what's wrong?"
Carla whispered gently that bright morning as she stood behind Karina, slowly brushing her hair. Morning light slipped through the soft silk curtains, reflecting off the turquoise strands that flowed between her fingers like threads of colored silk.
Karina sat in front of a large mirror, her eyes half-closed with sleep, her hands rubbing her eyelids slowly as if trying to wake herself after a restless night.
She finally murmured hesitantly:
"Um… tomorrow, I'm supposed to… the Second Prince invited me…"
She paused, then added while glancing nervously at her reflection:
"And I… haven't told anyone yet… and I don't know how to convince Father and Grandmother… they'll definitely refuse."
Carla paused brushing for a moment and looked at Karina's reflection, observing her tension.
Then she said with a small, sympathetic smile:
"And you think I know how to convince the Duke and the Lady?… I definitely don't."
She resumed brushing gently, gathering the strands into a simple, elegant hairstyle suitable for a young princess without excess.
Then she added lightly:
"Maybe… you could cry in front of him."
She paused while fixing a strand with a small pin.
"I'm sure the Duke is very weak when it comes to his daughter's tears."
Karina remained silent, thinking for a moment, then slowly shook her head.
"I don't want to rely on tears every time."
Carla nodded in agreement, gently running her fingers through the turquoise strands.
Then she paused, as if an idea came to her.
"Well…"
she said, looking at Karina's reflection again.
"Try convincing your grandmother first… then let her convince your father."
Karina stayed silent for a moment, thinking.
Then she felt that… this really was the best solution.
---
After getting dressed, Karina left her room with quiet steps through the wide palace corridors. Golden morning light streamed through the tall windows, while servants moved quietly between rooms as usual.
But her heart was beating faster than usual.
She headed first to her father's office.
She stood before him and told him about it.
But his reaction came faster than she expected.
"No. No… and no!"
Theobald said firmly.
"Going to the capital is strictly forbidden, Karina."
She stood silently for a moment.
Then she tried:
"But Father—"
He cut her off immediately.
"Karina, don't make me angry."
His voice rose slightly.
"This… is forbidden."
Karina frowned slightly but didn't argue further. She turned toward the door, and when she nearly reached it, she paused briefly.
Then said quietly:
"I'm sorry."
And left.
She sighed as she walked down the corridor.
For Theobald… it was simple.
Yes, his relationship with the emperor was good—but he didn't trust him. He knew well that the imperial court was a place full of schemes and smiling faces that hid something far worse.
And so… he didn't want his daughter to take even a single step toward those palaces.
---
But Karina didn't give up.
The second attempt…
Her grandmother.
She entered Osana's room quietly. The grandmother sat by the window, morning light flowing over her silver hair as she read an old book.
She lifted her eyes when Karina entered.
A gentle smile appeared.
"My dear Rina…"
she said softly.
"This is a difficult matter… even if it was the prince who invited you."
Then she closed the book slowly.
"You know we don't trust people easily."
Her voice was calm—unlike Theobald, who had reacted with immediate anger.
Karina stepped closer.
Then whispered:
"Grandmother… what should I say?"
She hesitated before continuing:
"He insisted a lot… how can I refuse him?"
She lowered her gaze.
"Grandmother… I feel embarrassed refusing him… and Damian is actually a good person… I trust him."
It wasn't a complete lie…
But it wasn't the full truth either.
Osana thought for a moment.
Then simply said:
"Find an excuse."
Karina shook her head quickly.
"Grandmother… please."
She looked at her seriously.
"It's not right to refuse again… it's very embarrassing."
The grandmother sighed slowly.
She remained silent for a long moment before finally saying:
"Alright."
She raised her eyes toward Karina.
"I will agree."
Then added more seriously:
"But Rina… take responsibility for any mistake that happens."
Karina's heartbeat quickened immediately.
She swallowed.
"Yes."
Then quickly added:
"Just… convince Father."
Osana smiled slightly.
---
And indeed…
It didn't take long.
Osana went to speak with Theobald, and as often happened… he couldn't refuse his mother.
After some discussion… he finally agreed.
---
And that day came.
Karina prepared carefully, wearing an elegant dress in a calm color suitable for a formal visit, while her turquoise hair flowed softly over her shoulders.
Then she boarded the carriage.
The wheels moved slowly along the long road leading to the capital.
Her heart… was filled with many thoughts.
Until the carriage finally stopped.
The door opened.
Karina stepped down quietly.
And lifted her eyes—
to see it.
The palace of the Second Prince.
The wide garden before it was filled with yellow flowers swaying with the daytime breeze, and tall trees surrounded the place as if guarding it in silence. The green grass stretched like a soft sea up to the elevated stone steps of the palace.
The palace itself was tall, calm, and imposing without excess.
There was a strange feeling in the place.
Peace.
Calm.
Light.
As if this palace stood as a point of light in a completely different place…
Different from that other palace.
The palace where shadows lived.
The Empress's palace.
…
The Empress's gloomy, abandoned palace—where closed windows told a heavy, unbearable silence…
The Second Prince's palace—elegant and calm like its owner…
The First Prince's palace—imposing like a silent battlefield…
The Third Prince's palace—hidden behind mysterious shadows… and finally…
The concubines' palace—where whispers mixed with deception and false smiles…
All six palaces filled her with suffocating dread… as if the ground itself whispered that she had entered a place where mistakes were unforgivable…
She exhaled softly, gripping the edge of her dress with tense fingers, holding onto it as if it were the only thing keeping her steady… She could clearly feel it… no—she was certain… that many eyes were watching her from every corner… from behind pillars, from behind curtains, from behind smiles…
She walked slowly, her steps light but her heart pounding violently in her chest…
She lifted her eyes…
And then she saw him.
A boy with bright blond hair shining under the sunlight, and cold gray eyes. He wore elegant clothes carefully designed to match his status as a prince. His presence alone was enough to make the atmosphere quieter… heavier…
She smiled slightly, trying to hide her tension, and walked toward him.
When she stood before him, she placed a hand lightly over her heart, bowed slightly, and whispered:
"Hello… how are you, Your Highness, the Second Prince?"
Her voice was soft but carried hidden tension.
He nodded.
"I'm fine… how are you, Miss Vershi?"
His tone was calm… too calm… so normal it unsettled her, as if her presence made no difference.
He gestured toward the grand entrance.
"Come with me inside… it's good you're not late."
He walked ahead with steady, quick steps—as if certain no one would dare stop him.
She tried to keep up, but his speed annoyed her. She reached out, grabbed his shoulder, and turned him—
"Don't run!"
she said, annoyed, her brows furrowed and her face beginning to flush.
He leaned slightly closer and whispered:
"Shh…"
He raised a finger to his lips.
She froze—
then her face flared with anger.
"You're the one who should be quiet!"
She said it louder, pointing at him with her folded fan—but in a swift, cold motion, he took it from her without hesitation.
"Just follow me."
He said it without even looking at her, then turned and kept walking.
Karina was about to explode… the idea of biting him crossed her mind with strange seriousness—but she held herself back.
"Calm down… calm down… I need to win him over…"
she whispered to herself, breathing slowly, then followed him. With a subtle movement, she slipped the fan back from his hand behind his back without him noticing—as if reclaiming a small piece of her dignity.
When they arrived, the guards opened the large door with a heavy sound.
A vast room revealed itself.
A reception hall—but far from ordinary.
Elegant seating, soft cream fabrics intertwined with golden patterns…
A table at the center covered with shimmering golden cloth…
And furniture—each piece like an untouchable masterpiece.
Karina walked forward and sat across from Damian—but her eyes wandered, exploring the room…
Until they stopped.
On a portrait.
The Empress…
Damian's mother.
Silence fell—heavy… suffocating…
Then his voice broke it:
"Do you know the proper noble way to pour tea?"
A simple question… but it felt like a test.
Her face flushed immediately.
It was something every noble knew… but she had never needed to do it herself.
She shook her head, embarrassed.
He sighed, then stood.
With calm, precise movements, he began pouring the tea—each motion exact, like a ritual that allowed no mistake.
She watched closely… memorizing… observing… afraid even of failing to learn.
"Being overly pampered is a bad thing… it makes a person dependent on others… and doesn't build a bright future…"
He said it calmly—
but the words struck directly.
She froze.
Her expression faltered.
Her eyes shimmered, and something tightened painfully in her chest.
She swallowed.
This wasn't what she wanted… she hadn't come to be humiliated… she came to grow closer… to improve their relationship…
"I'm sorry…"
The words came out trembling… weak… but sincere.
Even he seemed surprised.
"It's advice… don't apologize… just don't repeat it."
She nodded silently.
Then took a sip of tea.
It tasted bitter—
not because it lacked sugar… but because her heart was heavy.
Damian sighed… feeling a trace of guilt.
He hadn't meant to hurt her.
"Do you know who that is in the portrait?"
He pointed toward his mother.
"Of course… Her Majesty Empress Doga… your mother…"
She nodded confidently.
"Do you know anything about her?"
She shook her head.
Everything she had heard… was only rumors… fragments… nothing real.
"Do you know anything about your mother?"
he asked suddenly.
Her expression softened slightly.
"Of course… I know a lot…"
Her tone grew calmer… as if mentioning her mother gave her warmth.
Then—
"Do you know the cause of her death?"
…
Everything changed.
The silence grew heavier.
Even the air felt cold.
She remembered.
The truth… the curse… her aunt…
She wanted to shake her head… to lie…
But—
"Tell the truth… I already know the reason."
She gasped.
Her mind froze.
How?
Why?
Who told him?
She began trembling.
Memories dragged her back… their weight suffocating her…
"Karina… you know… and you were the one who pushed your aunt away… because you know what we don't… that's because you're hiding something big…"
His words shattered everything.
"Th-that… I… uh…"
No words. Only fear.
Then…
He handed her a paper.
Her hand moved on its own… she opened it.
An old letter.
A faded sheet.
Elegant handwriting… but tired.
She began to read.
And with every word… her heart broke.
…
"Good evening, Doga…
You told me you were very tired… so I don't know if my words will ease you… but I'm trying… just trying to reach you before silence does…
Everyone… will die one day… not just you…
I repeat this to myself every night… as if I'm convincing my heart… but it doesn't believe me…
I too… keep receiving threats from Elena…
I feel her getting closer… day after day…
As if death itself walks quietly behind me… waiting for the right moment…
I may leave before you…
And perhaps we'll meet there… before we even have the chance to say goodbye properly…
But… despite all of this…
I am grateful…
I had a husband who loves me…
Who looks at me as if I am something precious… even as I wither before him each day…
And I had a family… enough to make my few days feel like a complete life…
And you too…
Don't say you gained nothing…
It is enough… that you held your child in your arms…
Enough that you saw him… even if only for moments…
Please…
Love him… take care of him…
Even if the days left… are few…
…
Do you know what hurts me more than the illness?
That I… wished for a child…
Just one…
To hold… to call by name… to feel that they are part of me…
Every night…
Pain wakes me… devours me slowly…
I silence myself… bite my lips… trying not to scream…
Pretending to be okay…
Is harder than the pain itself…
But I don't want to be the reason their lives stop…
I don't want to be the weight that slows their steps…
I want them to live…
To laugh…
To move forward… as if I was never a burden…
Because the truth is…
If I die…
Life will not stop…
And if we die…
The world will not stop for us…
So…
Don't pressure your husband…
Even if you return to him…
Even if you cling to him with everything you have left…
Elena… will not stop…
Today… or tomorrow…
She will try to kill you again…
But…
One thing will remain…
Your memory…
They will remember you… for your kindness… your patience… your love…
And that… is enough…
Your stepson…
That child…
Is enough…
One day…
He will grow…
And he will know…
He will know that you loved him…
And he will avenge you… not out of hatred… but because he won't bear the injustice done to you…
…
You lived beautiful days…
As I did…
But the difference between us…
Is that you… leave behind a small heart… that beats with you…
As for me…
I may leave…
Without anyone remembering me… as a mother…
…
I love you, my sister…
So…
Smile…
Even if the pain is tearing you apart…
Smile… for the one you loved…
And for…
Damian…"
— Revelina Vershi