Sunlight spilled gently through the silk curtains of the Eastern Palace, painting the room in gold and ivory hues. The scent of jasmine tea and warm bread filled the air as the ladies gathered in the sitting hall, still wearing traces of exhaustion from the night before.
Kanha stretched her arms with a dramatic sigh. "If anyone mentions the word dance again, I might just faint."
Gina let out a low groan, resting her head against the back of her chair. "My feet still feel like they're on fire."
Mirha hid a soft smile behind her teacup, her eyes warm with amusement. Kiara yawned delicately beside her, nodding in agreement.
Just then, Queen Mother Raina entered the hall, radiant and composed as always despite having danced nearly as much as the younger women. Her laughter filled the room the moment she saw their faces.
"Oh, don't look so grim, my little jewels," she teased, taking her seat at the head of the table. "You'd think you'd fought a battle last night instead of dancing."
"We might as well have, your Majesty " Kanha muttered, earning a stifled laugh from Gina.
Raina smiled knowingly. "Well, you'll be delighted to hear that tonight, you won't need to lift a toe."
That caught their attention. Mirha glanced up curiously. "Tonight?"
"Yes," Raina replied, reaching for her tea. "King Kalan has arranged a farewell banquet before your departure to Taico. A royal supper, really — there will be dancers and music, but this time, you will simply enjoy the show."
The ladies exchanged glances, half-relieved and half-dreading another long evening.
"So no dancing?" Kanha asked cautiously.
Raina laughed, eyes twinkling. "Not unless you wish to, my dear. You'll be seated, admired, and well-fed. That's all."
A wave of collective relief washed over the table. Gina exhaled dramatically. "Finally, a banquet that doesn't require shoes that kill."
Even Mirha laughed at that, the tension of the previous night seeming to melt away.
At that moment, the maids entered quietly, carrying trays of steaming tea, fruit, and delicate pastries. The ladies reached for their plates eagerly, conversation shifting to gossip and laughter once more.
As the soft morning light bathed them in warmth, it almost felt like peace — though beneath that calm, the wheels of fate were already turning toward another night they would not soon forget.
After breakfast, the palace corridors were alive with quiet chatter and laughter. The morning sunlight gleamed against polished floors as the ladies walked alongside Princess Goya, their moods noticeably lifted.
Goya turned to them with a bright smile. "I was thinking," she began, her tone light and almost conspiratorial, "before tonight's banquet, why don't we visit my seamstress? She's worked with me for years — I promise you, her gowns are beyond perfection. I'd love for you all to pick a couple for yourselves."
The ladies stopped mid-step, eyes wide in surprise.
"Truly?" Gina's voice held a mix of disbelief and delight. "You mean we can choose?"
"Of course!" Goya laughed softly. "I hope you won't mind — her designs are all Lamig style. Flowing sleeves, soft embroidery, delicate silks… but I think they'll flatter each of you beautifully."
"Lamig style?" Kanha asked, tilting her head thoughtfully. "I've only seen them in portraits — they're so elegant and intricate."
Mirha's eyes brightened instantly. "I've always admired the craftsmanship of Lamig gowns," she admitted. "The way they seem to move like water."
Queen Mother Raina, who had been quietly watching their youthful excitement, let out a tender laugh. Her eyes softened as she regarded them — so full of life, curiosity, and charm.
"Oh, my dears," she said fondly, "you make my heart melt. Go, go — enjoy yourselves. There's nothing more radiant than young women choosing gowns they love."
The ladies exchanged joyful glances, their fatigue from the night before long forgotten. Goya clasped her hands together, delighted.
"Then it's settled," she said. "We'll leave within the hour. My seamstress will be thrilled — she adores working with new faces."
As they dispersed to prepare, the hall filled with laughter and girlish chatter — the sound of silk rustling and jewelry clinking as anticipation built. For a brief, golden moment, there were no politics, no suspicions, no secrets — only warmth, friendship, and the thrill of beauty waiting to be worn.
The morning light filtered softly through the tall windows of Arvin's study, glinting off polished wood and golden inkwells. The air was thick — not with smoke or wine, but with tension.
King Kalan, Prince Kain, Duke Rnzo, Lord Hosha, and Emperor Arvin sat in a quiet circle around the grand desk. For a long while, no one spoke. Then Kalan broke the silence.
"I came to inform you," he began, voice steady but edged with something sharp, "that I have confirmed who ordered Miru to drug Princess Goya."
Every gaze fixed on him instantly.
"It was my father," Kalan said flatly. "King Ren."
A heavy pause followed. Rnzo's eyes narrowed. Hosha's jaw tightened.
Kalan continued, his tone calm but stripped of warmth. "He confessed that it was not meant as an attack on her life. He wanted Kain to… soil her reputation, to force your hand into marriage. A manipulative act — nothing more."
Kain's expression hardened, his fists curling on his knees. Arvin's brows drew together, his tone low and measured. "That doesn't make it any less vile."
"I agree," Kalan said. "Which is why I did what must be done. I stripped him of his title. He is no longer King Ren — he is now Sir Ren of Palvi Duchy, in the eastern reaches of Lamig."
The words fell like stone in water.
Kalan exhaled. "I would have had him hanged for treason against my crown… but I could not live with myself if I killed my own father. I leave him to you now. He is no longer of noble blood — try him as a commoner if you see fit."
Silence blanketed the room once more. The air felt heavier.
Finally, Kain leaned back, his voice cutting through the quiet.
"Well done, Your Majesty," he said coolly. "You wasted no time punishing your father. That's a solid heart you've got there."
Kalan didn't flinch.
Then Arvin spoke, his tone even. "You've done what most men couldn't. I believe your decision was just — we trust your judgement."
Kain's gaze flicked toward his brother. "We won't kill your father. Even I—" he paused briefly, eyes softening for a fleeting moment, "—I mean, none of us could live with ourselves if we took Princess Goya's father's life. But…" His expression sharpened again. "He should never show his face in Taico. Not ever again."
Kalan gave a single nod. "Agreed. He won't. I've also returned Miru to Princess Goya's service. She was merely following orders — I cannot punish loyalty misplaced."
Arvin and Kain exchanged silent glances, then nodded in approval.
With that, Kalan rose to his feet. "Then this matter is closed."
Chairs scraped lightly against the marble floor as the men stood, each carrying the quiet weight of duty and bloodlines fractured.
The double doors of the Emperor's study swung open with a soft creak as Kalan and Kain stepped into the corridor. The echo of their boots carried faintly through the marble hall, the morning sun stretching long shadows ahead of them.
For a moment, neither spoke. The silence between them was oddly heavy — not of hostility, but of thoughts unspoken.
Then Kain finally broke it.
"Have you told Princess Goya yet?" he asked, keeping his tone measured, though the question held a quiet edge.
Kalan stopped walking. His eyes remained fixed ahead, but the faintest shadow crossed his face.
"…No," he admitted after a pause. "And if it's not too much to ask—" he turned slightly toward Kain, his voice softening, "—can we keep it from her for now?"
Kain studied him for a long beat. His jaw tensed — not in defiance, but in thought. He could see the guilt lingering behind Kalan's composure, the way the man's crown weighed heavier this morning than any before.
At last, Kain exhaled quietly and gave a single nod.
"As you wish," he said.
Kalan offered a faint, grateful smile — a rare glimpse of warmth behind the king's controlled mask. "Thank you, Prince Kain."
Kain only inclined his head, watching as Kalan walked down the long corridor until the light swallowed him from sight.
When the echo of footsteps finally faded, Kain turned back toward the study, his expression unreadable. The conversation lingered in his mind like an aftertaste of wine — bitter, heavy, and unresolved.
He stepped back inside, closing the door behind him.
When Kain entered back to the study, laughter filled the room.
Rnzo, seated casually with one arm draped along the back of the sofa, was halfway through a boastful retelling of something that made Tando shake his head in disapproval and Kaisen smirk faintly. Arvin, ever composed, leaned back in his chair with that knowing half-smile of his, the kind that suggested he was listening but measuring every word.
"—and so when we reach Taico," Rnzo was saying, his voice brimming with easy confidence, "I'll have the wedding immediately. I see no reason to wait."
Tando groaned, rubbing his temple. "You've barely sobered from one ceremony, and you're planning another? Brother, the kingdom will think we've nothing better to do than dance."
Kaisen chuckled. "Let him be, Tando. The past celebrations were for King Kalan. This one would be for his heart. There's nothing wrong with that."
Rnzo turned to him with a grin — a sharp, mischievous gleam in his eyes. "When," he said smoothly, "did I say this was up for discussion?"
The room fell silent for a heartbeat. Then he stood, adjusting his coat, and added with theatrical flair,
"My preparations have begun already. The only things missing are the bride and groom. I came to tell you all, not to ask permission."
Kain couldn't help but burst into laughter, the sound echoing richly through the chamber. Arvin only shook his head with quiet amusement, a low chuckle escaping him as he rose. "Do whatever you wish, brother. I've learned not to stand between you and your impulsive decisions."
With that, he turned and left the room.
Tando followed soon after, still muttering about "too many celebrations."
The door closed, leaving Rnzo, Kain, and Kaisen behind — the hum of morning quiet settling around them.
Rnzo's grin slowly turned more pointed. "So," he began, eyes glinting as he leaned forward on his knees, "did you do it?"
Kaisen feigned confusion, though his slight smirk betrayed him. "Do what?"
"Tsk." Rnzo clicked his tongue. "Don't play dumb. I gave you all the chances last night. Tell me you finally asked her for her hand."
Kain's eyes widened slightly, curiosity sharpening his expression.
Kaisen's smirk deepened. "I'm nothing like you, brother. I don't propose to a lady on the first day."
"Ah," Rnzo countered slyly, "but you did ask to court her."
Kaisen's silence was answer enough.
Kain leaned back, crossing his arms, amusement flickering across his face. "And who, exactly, is this mysterious lady?"
"One of Nailah's," Rnzo said offhandedly, watching Kaisen carefully.
Kain tilted his head. "Which one?"
"Mirha," Kaisen said simply.
Kain's brows lifted, then softened into approval. "She's… a fine choice. Likeable, intelligent. She knows her herbs well — it's a shame she's confined to being just another court ornament. She would've made an excellent apothecary if not for society's rules."
Rnzo nodded absently, but his gaze had sharpened.
Kain went on, "And what did she say when you asked her?"
The easy confidence drained slightly from Kaisen's face. "She didn't get a chance to reply." He paused, frowning faintly. "For some reason, Heman interrupted before she could answer. He took her away."
Rnzo's eyes narrowed, the faintest spark of suspicion flickering there. "Heman?" he repeated, voice low.
Kaisen nodded.
The brothers exchanged glances, but said no more. Kain resumed the conversation lightly, speaking of Mirha's grace and temperament, trying to smooth the mood — but Rnzo's attention had drifted. He sat back slowly, eyes unfocused, lost in thought.
To the others, he appeared merely contemplative — but inwardly, a seed of curiosity had begun to grow.