The sun is setting, casting a warm golden glow over the gardens. I sit on my favorite bench, enjoying the quiet, purposefully avoiding the parts of the palace that make my blood boil.
Then, a guard approaches.
"Princess, the council requests your presence."
I frown. Again?
"For what?" I ask, not bothering to mask my irritation.
"I don't know, Your Highness. I was just asked to summon you."
I sigh, get up, and follow him to the council hall.
As I step in, all eyes turn to me. I don't greet anyone. I simply stand, arms crossed, waiting for them to get to the point.
Lord Edric, the eldest of the council, clears his throat. "We hear you now have a job, Princess."
I meet his gaze without flinching. "Yes, I work."
His brows furrow. "But why?"
I blink. Why?
"As the future queen, you have no need for employment. Your place is here, overseeing royal duties." His voice is filled with authority, but it only irritates me further. "Do you lack anything?"
I don't answer.
They murmur among themselves before Lord Edric continues. "It is improper for you to work. A queen does not lower herself to such matters. We have come to a decision; you must resign immediately."
Something in me snaps.
I chuckle. It's a dry, humourless sound. "Is that so?" I ask, tilting my head.
"Yes," he says firmly. "It is an order."
I step forward, placing both hands on the long wooden table, looking them straight in the eye.
"Let me make something very clear to you, Lord Eric, and the rest of you." My voice is sharp, controlled. "I do not take orders from you. I will not quit my job. If that's a problem for you, feel free to take whatever decision you want. I truly don't care."
Their eyes widen. Silence blankets the room.
Then, without another word, I turn on my heels and walk out, leaving them utterly stunned.
I storm toward my quarters, my anger from the council meeting still simmering when sudden shrieks and commotion from Cassian's wing stop me in my tracks. I slow my pace, listening. Female voices.
I frown and pick up speed.
As I turn the corner, the sight before me is nothing short of appalling. Liliana, looking disheveled and wild, is locked in a vicious fight with another woman, the same girl I saw Cassian with the night he handed me his phone to call my mother.
Their clothes are torn, their hair a tangled mess. Nails claw at skin, fists swing wildly, kicks are thrown with no regard for who's watching. A small crowd of maids and guards stands nearby, whispering but not daring to intervene.
Disgust coils in my stomach.
"Enough!" I snap, turning to the nearest guard. "Stop this madness."
The guard hesitates for a second before stepping forward and forcefully separating them.
"How dare you both?" My voice cuts through the tension like a blade. "How dare you disturb the peace of the palace with this disgraceful display?"
Liliana finally notices the crowd around her, along with the guards and maids watching in stunned silence. She hisses in irritation, gathers what's left of her dignity, and storms off to her quarters without another word.
I turn to the girl. She stands there, breathless, her face tear-streaked, her lips trembling.
"I'm sorry, Princess," she says, her voice barely above a whisper.
"Where's the Prince?" I ask, my tone sharp.
"He's out."
"And what exactly happened here?" I fold my arms, waiting.
She hesitates, sniffling before she wipes at her tears. "The Prince asked me to wait for him in his chambers," she admits. "So I came and waited. Then… that woman barged in and started insulting me. I insulted her back, and she slapped me. That's how the fight started."
I study her. She's young; too young for this mess. Pity creeps in despite my irritation.
"What's your name?" I ask.
"Nancy," she murmurs.
I glance at her torn dress. "Do you have another change of clothes?"
She shakes her head.
I sigh, rolling my eyes at the sheer absurdity of this night. "Come with me."
Without waiting for a response, I turn and head toward my chambers. I hear her hesitant footsteps following behind me.
Nancy sits on the edge of my bed, shoulders hunched, eyes downcast. I watch her closely, taking in her bruised arms and the red mark on her cheek. She looks fragile, younger than I initially thought. What is she doing entangling herself in this mess?
With a sigh, I grab my first aid box and kneel in front of her. I don't speak as I disinfect the scratches on her arm, just listening to her occasional wince.
"Do you love him?" I ask suddenly.
She flinches, clearly not expecting the question.
"Don't be shy, talk to me," I press. "I may be his wife, but I understand."
She hesitates, then nods slowly.
"Does he love you?"
A long pause. Then, in a small voice, "I don't know."
"But you know he's married, right?"
Another nod.
"And now they're trying to push him to marry another. Do you want him to marry you too?"
She says nothing, but her fingers twist nervously in her lap.
I sigh again, shaking my head. "Can you cope? Fighting Liliana every time? Living in constant humiliation?"
Nancy's lips tremble, but she stays silent.
"You can do better than this, Nancy," I tell her firmly. "You're still very young. You have your whole life ahead of you. Find something more useful to do than running after a man who will never truly be yours. Focus on yourself. One day, the right man; the one who will love only you, will come."
Tears well in her eyes. She blinks rapidly, but a single drop escapes down her cheek. "Thank you, Princess," she whispers.
I finish dressing her wounds and stand up. Walking to my wardrobe, I pull out an old dress, one I don't mind parting with. "Here, wear this."
She takes it with shaky hands, slipping it on. I watch as she wipes her face, trying to regain some composure.
"Go home, Nancy," I say gently.
She nods, and without another word, she leaves.
As the door clicks shut behind her, I turn back to clean up.
But then, a faint rustling outside my window stops me cold.
Someone is still here.
Watching.