There's a silence in the palace that doesn't comfort—it claws.
It's not the kind of quiet that brings peace. It's the kind that settles into your bones and whispers: "Watch closely."
That's what I'd been doing. Watching.
Watching Kyren, cold and unreadable, with those flickers of something warm buried so deep he probably forgot it existed.
Watching Geo, the picture of elegance, saying all the right things with eyes that screamed obsession.
Watching Kahina, with her poison-coated words and silken traps.
And then… watching myself.
The girl they all thought they could own.
The Duke's daughter. The alliance bride.
But what no one seemed to notice was—I was never just silk.
There was fire under all this.
And it was starting to burn.
That night, I stared at my reflection.
Pearl pins in my hair. A soft sapphire gown hugging my waist. I looked every bit the noble lady they wanted me to be.
But it wasn't me.
The real me stood barefoot on riverbanks.
She knew how to read battlefield maps.
She threw knives behind her father's study.
She bled. And she hated. And she burned.
I touched my own face, softly.
"What do they see when they look at me?" I murmured.
"A prize? A pawn? A fool?"
Kyren saw a storm he couldn't tame.
Geo saw a porcelain doll to lock in a glass case.
And Kahina? She saw a threat wrapped in silk and smiles.
Good.
Let them all see something.
Let them all guess wrong.
I crept out to the palace terrace, the moon spilling silver across the stones. My bare feet padded softly, the air cool.
No guards. No Kyren. No Geo. Just me.
Until a voice broke the silence.
"Running away, little dove?"
I turned.
Kyren. In the shadows. Arms crossed. Shirt slightly open at the collar. Battle-scarred and infuriating.
"I could ask you the same," I replied, raising an eyebrow.
He smirked but there was something darker behind his eyes tonight.
"You keep wandering off like this, someone might think you're hiding."
"Maybe I am."
"From what?"
"From becoming what they expect me to be."
A pause. A shift in his stance.
"And what do you want to be?" he asked.
I stepped closer. Close enough to see the flecks of gold in his eyes.
"Free."
Another beat of silence. His jaw tensed.
"Then stop acting like a bird in a cage," he muttered.
I laughed, bitterly. "Easy for you to say. You built the damn cage."
His hand moved, fast, to grab my wrist—gentle, but firm. His voice dropped, barely audible.
"I didn't build this world, Vidalia. I'm just trying to survive in it."
"So am I."
Our eyes locked. And I saw something there—anger, guilt, need.
He leaned in, just slightly.
"Then let's both stop pretending."
But I stepped back. Not because I didn't want him to. But because I did.
And that scared me more than anything.
Back in my room, I opened the hidden drawer beneath my wardrobe.
Inside:
One steel dagger
A map of the kingdom
A letter from my mother—sealed, never opened
And something else. A name.
Geo Rosario.
I whispered it like a prayer. Or a curse.
There was more to him.
I could feel it.
Something dark. Something dangerous.
And it wasn't just Kyren who needed to beware.
Because the real game had only just begun.
And I?
I was done playing by their rules.
I didn't sleep that night.
I lay awake, my fingers brushing the sealed letter from my mother. The paper was yellowed at the edges, the wax barely intact. I'd never dared to open it.
Not out of fear.
But because deep down, I thought it might break me. That her words might shatter whatever fragile resolve I'd spent years building.
But tonight felt different.
Tonight, I was no longer the girl hoping for peace.
I was the woman preparing for war.
I cracked the seal open.
The parchment unfolded with a whisper, and the inked handwriting I hadn't seen since childhood stared back at me like a ghost.
"To my daughter, my brightest light..."
Her words spilled emotion, memories, and warnings. She spoke of Etril's throne, the dark games of nobles, and the truth that power is never given freely—it's stolen, demanded, or bled for.
"Do not let them dim you. If you burn, let it be a fire they can't contain."
I pressed the letter to my chest.
Then, I tucked it away and reached for the dagger.
If they wanted a silent bride, a tame little pawn—they chose the wrong girl.
The next day arrived with poison in the air.
Not literal, of course. Just the suffocating kind that clings to silk gowns and careful smiles.
At breakfast, the nobles gathered in the sunlit courtyard. Kahina wore crimson, her neckline daring and her voice sugar-laced as she greeted Kyren with an extra touch to his arm.
I said nothing. I simply walked past her and poured my tea with more grace than she could ever muster.
Geo sat at the end of the table, a picture of refinement. But I caught the way his eyes found me and lingered... too long.
And Kyren? He said nothing, but his fingers tapped rhythmically against the wooden table. His eyes never left Geo.
Something between them was shifting. Brewing.
And I—I was caught right in the middle.
After breakfast, I walked through the gardens, pretending I wasn't being followed.
Geo appeared, as if summoned by thought.
"Lady Vidalia," he greeted with a smile that was too perfect.
"Lord Rosario," I replied, lips tightening.
"I wanted to apologize. I fear I overwhelmed you the other day. Old memories, after all." He smiled gently. "Your eyes haven't changed."
I blinked. "You said you only just arrived."
He hesitated. Just for a breath. "I did. But I... saw you once, years ago. You wouldn't remember. You were... magnificent."
There it was.
A thread pulled too tight.
I stepped back. "I'm afraid I don't remember."
"Don't worry." He took a step closer. "I've remembered enough for both of us."
My skin prickled.
A moment later, Kyren's voice cut through the air like a blade. "Vidalia."
I turned. He stood near the hedge, arms crossed, clearly annoyed.
"Your presence is required," he said, clearly lying.
I went to him anyway.
As I passed Geo, he whispered low, "Careful, My Lady. Not all cages are built of iron."
When I reached Kyren, I hissed, "What do you think you're doing?"
"I should ask you the same," he said, eyes scanning Geo behind me.
"That man—"
"I know." His voice dropped. "He's not what he seems."
"So you feel it too."
Kyren's jaw clenched. "I don't like him."
"I didn't ask if you liked him."
"I don't trust him," he said simply.
We both stood there, unspoken tension coiling between us.
And from the corner of my eye—I saw Kahina watching.
Later that evening, a letter appeared under my door.
No seal. No signature.
Just a line written in blood-red ink.
"One of them will ruin you. The question is—who gets there first?"
I looked up.
And I smiled.
Let them try.