The earth did not shake with the thunder of an army. It began with the rhythmic sound of a single hunting party returning early.
The crowd stirred. "The Crown Prince returns… " a voice rippled through the pavilion.
I straightened my spine, fighting the wave of dizziness that threatened to pull me under.
The treeline broke.
Fabian rode out into the clearing. He was surrounded by his Royal Guards and their hounds, his white hunting leathers stained with the sweat of exertion. The sun caught his golden hair, and it was like making him look every bit the fairytale hero.
However, there was no White Stag or other animal behind him. His hands were empty of weapons.
Instead, his arms were full of her.
Sitting in front of him, wrapped securely in his royal blue cloak, was Lady Anna. She looked small and fragile against his chest, her hands clutching his tunic for safety.
The silence in the encampment was instantaneous and suffocating for me.
I saw his face didn't look ashamed. He merely passed me.
He pulled his horse to a halt in front of the Royal Pavilion. He dismounted with grace, then reached up and gently lifted Anna down from the saddle.
He turned, his eyes scanning the crowd, searching desperately until they locked onto me.
I was standing at the centre of the entrance, away from the shade of the pavilion. My dress was tight, my skin pale as linen, and my body trembling with the effort of simply existing.
His face transformed. His pride vanished, replaced by a look of panic.
"Aurelia!"
He forgot the Queen. He forgot the crowd.
He rushed toward me. He looked at my sweat-slicked brow and my trembling hands.
He stopped just inches from me, his breathing heavy, his eyes wide with distress.
"You waited," he breathed, his voice thick with a mix of guilt and awe. "You stood here… all this time?"
Behind him, Anna was walking toward us… How dare…
"Your Highness," I said, my voice immediately cutting through his concern. "Where is the prize? Stag?"
He flinched, yet there was a protective edge to his voice. He glanced back at Anna, who stopped in her tracks, watching us with narrowed eyes, clutching a jewelled object.
"We lost it," he admitted, his voice quiet.
I stared at him.
"Lost it?" I repeated, my voice flat.
I took a slow, deliberate step forward, forcing him to meet my gaze.
"What do you mean by 'lost it', dear Fabian?"
He shifted uncomfortably.
"Did it escape?" I asked, my tone soft. "Did you miss? Or did you simply… forget why you entered the forest?"
"No, I… I cornered it," he insisted, his voice rising with frustration. "I had the shot. I had the beast."
"Then why," I asked, gesturing to the empty saddle, "is it not here?"
He looked away, his jaw tightening in shame.
"I reached for the Ceremonial Dagger to perform the Rite," he confessed. "It was not there. I hesitated. And in that moment… it broke the line."
I let out a sharp, cold breath. As the crowd whispered, the Prince had failed because he forgot his own gear.
"You forgot your dagger," I stated.
"It was an oversight!" he snapped.
Then, my eyes drifted. I looked past him to Anna. She was clutching tightly to her chest a sheath encrusted with royal jewels, the ceremonial dagger.
I narrowed my eyes.
He stepped sideways, shielding her. "Do not look at her like that," he said quickly. "It was not Lady Anna's fault."
I looked back at him. "I did not say it was."
"She was trying to help me," he continued, trying to justify her. "She found the dagger in the camp. She realised my mistake."
"Help you?" I repeated coldly.
He stepped back and placed a hand on Anna's shoulder freely. Seeing that, I felt a flicker of the old me hurt by it.
I looked at the crowd behind them, and they whispered about the bravery of her.
I walked down the steps. I looked at the dagger in Anna's hand.
"So," I said, my voice dangerously calm. "You found the Prince's weapon. A loyal subject would have handed it to the Master of the Hunt in this encampment. A loyal subject would have alerted it."
I took a step closer, towering over her.
"But you did not want the Prince to have the dagger," I said softly. "You wanted the Prince to see you holding the dagger."
Her eyes widened.
"You chose to run into the woods yourself," I continued. "You chose to put yourself in danger so that the Prince would have to stop his hunt to save you. You traded the White Stag for a moment of attention."
Suddenly, I could see a hand in front of me. It was Fabian's hand.
"Enough, Aurelia!" His voice rose, sharp and defensive.
He stepped fully between us. He was shielding her.
The silence that followed was heavier than the heat.
I looked at his raised hand. Then I looked at his face.
"You silence me?" I asked. "To protect a foolish decision?"
"She risked her safety for me," he insisted. "I will not have you degrade her intent."
I stared at him for a long moment. I looked at the sweat on his brow, the desperation in his eyes, and the way he stood guard over a girl holding a dagger.
I felt the last tether of my expectation snap.
I took one step back.
"Well then…" I said softly, smoothing the front of my dress. "If you really believes that, Fabian, then I suppose I have nothing more to say."
I looked at the empty space behind his horse where the prize should have been.
"I stood here to welcome the Royal Prize. I waited to honour the Hunter's success," I stated, my voice cold and final. "But as there is no prize, merely there is no rabbit, and you are no hunter."
I met his eyes one last time.
"It means my duty here is over."
I turned to Octavi, dismissing Fabian entirely.
"Let's go home."
"My lady," Octavi responded, stepping forward to offer her arm.
I turned my back on the Crown Prince. I turned my back on the Queen. I walked away from the failure of the Royal House.
I did not hasten my step. I moved with the slow, deliberate pace of a funeral procession, ignoring the whispers that rose like a tide around me.
"My lady," Octavi whispered, her arm a steady anchor as my vision swam. "Step carefully."
…
We reached toward my pavilion chamber. The heavy silk flaps fell shut behind us. The noise of the crowd became a muffled hum.
I collapsed into the nearest chair; my legs finally surrendered to the tremors that had plagued them for hours.
"Water," I rasped.
Adel was there instantly, pressing a cool glass to my lips. I drank, the liquid soothing the fire in my throat, but it could not wash away the bitter taste of my disappointment.
"My lady…" Adel began, her voice laced with hesitation. "To depart now… it is a grave breach of rules. The Closing Feast has not yet commenced. The Queen will view this as an open insult."
"Let her," I replied, leaning my head back and closing my eyes.
"But the sight, my lady," Octavi added, standing guard by the entrance flap. "To leave before the Royal's representative implies a rejection of the hospitality. Which it suggests… anger."
I opened my eyes, fixing Octavi with a cold stare.
"It suggests boredom, Octavi. And nothing is more insulting to a Royal than lack of interest"
I straightened my posture, though my body screamed for rest.
"A feast is held to celebrate a triumph," I stated, my voice regaining its sharp edge. "It is held to honour the provider of the bounty. But look outside. There is no Stag. There is no prize. There is only a boy who forgot his dagger and a girl who thinks all of this is a game."
I looked at Adel.
"What exactly would we be feasting for, Adel? Fabian's incompetence? Or perhaps we should raise a glass to the 'bravery' of a girl who trespasses into the forest?"
Adel lowered her head. "No, my lady. There is nothing to celebrate."
"Precisely," I whispered. "My duty was to welcome the Victor. As there is no Victor, my duty is discharged. I am not a prop to be wheeled out to applaud their failures."
I turned my gaze to Octavi.
"I will not spend another hour in this heat, pretending to admire a Prince who cannot even dress himself for a hunt."
"Then you are settled?" Octavi asked, her hand resting on her sword hilt.
"I am," I said. "I want to go home. I want my bed. And I want to be away from this… place."
"Very well," Octavi nodded. "However, I cannot order the carriage myself. The movement of the House is under your mother's command."
She glanced toward the flap, where the sound of the crowd was growing louder.
"I must seek your mother, my lady," Octavi stated. "We need her approval to break the line and depart early. Without her word, the guards will not prepare the horses."
"Then go," I commanded softly. "Tell my mother that her daughter has played her part. Tell her… the play is over."
"And if she refuses?" Adel asked quietly.
"She won't," I said, remembering the sharp smile my mother gave the Queen during the wine incident. "She saw Fabian return empty-handed. She will know there is no value left for me in this field."
"I will find and ask your mother, my lady," Octavi said.
Octavi slipped out through the flap, heading back into the chaos to find my mother, leaving me alone with Adel.
I felt a cool cloth touch my forehead.
Adel was there. She didn't ask for permission. She gently wiped the sheen of cold sweat from my brow. She adjusted the collar of my dress.
"You crushed him, my lady," Adel whispered. "You dismantled the Crown Prince with words alone. You silenced the court."
She pulled the cloth away, her dark eyes searching mine.
"But… look at you."
She took my hand and massaged the tension out of my fingers.
"You are shaking," she whispered. "Your skin is cold as the grave. Every word you spoke out there seemed to drain another drop of life from you."
She paused, her gaze dropping to the floor where my feet rested.
"Is all of this necessary, my lady?" she asked softly.
I looked up at her. It wasn't an accusation. It was like a plea.
"Necessary?" I repeated.
"To become this…" She gestured vaguely at my face, at the mask I had worn outside. "To become this ice? Is survival truly worth it if it requires you to destroy the gentleness that makes you…you?"
I slowly look at Adel. I didn't look angry. I looked resigned.
"You told me once, Adel," I whispered, my voice hollow. "You said that to fight fate is like fighting the current with bare hands. So, you suggest survival; you said that to survive, I must understand the flow."
I stood up closer to her, my eyes dull but steady.
"You said I need to follow the river," I stated softly. "So I am just following it, Adel."
She flinched, recognising her own words being used.
"My lady, I meant for you to navigate it," she pleaded. "Not to let your heart drown."
"The current of this story… the current of this plot… It demands a Villainess. It demands a woman who does not weep when her betrothed humiliates her."
I held out my trembling hand, watching the tremors.
"If I am soft in this river, I will break against the rocks," I whispered. "So I must be ice. Ice floats. Ice survives the current. Ice does not bleed."
I clenched my hand into a fist.
"I am doing exactly what you told me. I am becoming what the river requires me to be."
She stared at me for a long moment, the pain evident in her eyes. She realised that her advice to save me had ultimately frozen me.
Slowly, she lowered her head. It wasn't a bow of servitude; rather, it was a bow of mourning for the girl I used to be.