The week had barely begun, yet the palace was already abuzz with preparation for the grand return to Taico. Servants hurried across the courtyards carrying bolts of fabric and polished chests, while guards inspected carriages gleaming under the morning sun. In the royal gardens, the air was fragrant with the scent of lamir blossoms, their pale petals drifting lazily across the pond like falling stars.
The ladies sat beneath the shade of flowering trees—Princess Goya and Lady Kanha on one side, while Gina and Mirha shared the opposite bench, their skirts brushing softly in the breeze. Birds flitted above them, their calls blending with the quiet laughter of noblewomen from a distance.
Gina, fiddling absently with a loose thread on her sleeve, turned to Mirha. Her tone was gentle, but the switch to Madish gave her words a weight that made Mirha's pulse quicken.
"Is there… anything you wish to tell me?" Gina asked, the words halting, her accent soft but clumsy in its precision.
Mirha's hand froze mid-motion. For a fleeting second, her eyes lifted to Gina's — wide, pleading, silently begging her not to press the subject here, not now. Her lips parted as if to answer, but no words came.
And then — like a gift from heaven — a familiar voice broke through the still air.
"Ah, my lovely flowers," came Queen Raina's warm voice.
All four ladies immediately stood and bowed deeply. The Queen Mother, dressed in pale gold silk that shimmered faintly in the sunlight, waved her hand graciously for them to sit. Her smile carried the softness of spring and the authority of a matriarch all at once.
"Please, sit, my darlings," she said, settling gracefully onto the stone bench beside them. "How are my precious ladies of Taico doing? I trust Lamig has treated you kindly?"
The ladies exchanged glances before answering almost in unison, "We are well, Your Majesty."
Raina nodded, her eyes twinkling as she looked over them — from Goya's lively grin to Kanha's composed grace, from Mirha's quiet poise to Gina's gentle beauty.
"You must all be eager to return home," she said softly. "Especially you, Gina."
Gina blinked, her brows furrowing in confusion. "Me, Your Majesty?"
Before Raina could answer, Kiara leaned forward curiously. "But why Gina, Your Majesty?"
Raina's lips curved into a knowing smile. "Oh, you mean you don't know?" she said, amused by their puzzled faces. "You, my dear, are to be married the moment you arrive in Taico. The preparations are already underway."
She turned her gaze to Gina, whose breath caught in her throat. "Congratulations, Your Grace," Raina said warmly, the title deliberate and unmistakable. "The Duchess of Magili suits you beautifully."
The words hung in the air like a spark—gentle yet electrifying. Goya's eyes widened, and then she broke into a bright smile, clapping her hands softly.
"Oh, that's wonderful news! Congratulations, Gina!" she said. "Duke Rnzo is such a fine man."
"Yes," Kanha chimed in with an approving nod, "he truly is."
But Gina barely heard them. Her mind swirled with disbelief and confusion. She had known about the engagement, yes — but no date had been set. Not yet. Not officially. Her heart pounded as she tried to form a response, her lips trembling just enough to betray her composure.
Mirha reached over, gently placing her hand over Gina's. The simple gesture grounded her, but her eyes were still glassy, overwhelmed by the suddenness of it all.
"Your Majesty, if you'll excuse me," Gina managed, her voice soft, steady — but her composure fragile.
Raina nodded with a tender smile, unaware of the turmoil she had stirred. "Of course, my dear. The excitement can be much at once."
Mirha immediately rose with her. "I'll go with her, Your Majesty."
Raina waved them off kindly, and the two slipped away down the garden path, their skirts brushing against dew-soaked grass. As they walked, Gina exhaled shakily, her thoughts tumbling over one another. The perfume of lamir blossoms lingered in the air, but for her, the sweetness had suddenly turned sharp — confusing, suffocating.
Mirha said nothing, only walked beside her in silence, her hand still gently on Gina's arm — steadying her friend whose world had just shifted without warning.
Gina told Mirha softly, "Go back, I'll be fine," before turning the other way.
Her steps were brisk, her thoughts a blur of disbelief. She found Taji standing by the hall.
"Taji," she called, her voice trembling with both anger and confusion, "take me to Lord Rnzo."
The guard hesitated—he could tell she was upset—but after one look at her determined face, he simply nodded and led the way.
When they arrived, Rnzo was in council with several lords. The moment Taji announced, "My lord, Lady Gina seeks your audience," every man in the room grew silent. Rnzo's gaze flicked toward the door—then back at the men.
"You may all leave," he said calmly.
Once they bowed and exited, the doors shut with a firm thud.
For a long moment, silence filled the chamber.
Rnzo leaned back in his chair, eyes fixed on Gina. His expression unreadable—part curious, part amused.
Gina, however, stood with fire in her eyes, her chest rising and falling.
Rnzo finally spoke, voice low and teasing, "You look beautiful, darling."
Her glare sharpened. "When," she demanded, "were you going to tell me that we're to be married the moment we return to Taico?"
For a second, Rnzo blinked—then realization dawned, and a small chuckle escaped his lips. To him, it wasn't something worth anger; to her, it was betrayal.
"You find this amusing?" she snapped.
He didn't answer. He only smiled wider.
Fury burst in her like flame—she spun around to leave, only to find the door locked. She banged on it with her fist, kicking it once, twice.
"Open this door!"
No one answered.
Turning, she leaned back against the door, panting. Rnzo still hadn't moved—he simply watched her, the faintest smirk tugging at his mouth.
When he finally spoke, his voice was calm, almost playful.
"After you're done throwing your tantrum," he said, "come back and sit."
Her eyes blazed.
He stood then, his tone softening just slightly. "Or," he added as he walked toward her, "I can come there."
Gina froze as he reached her, standing close enough for her to catch the faint scent of sandalwood and steel. Rnzo gently tucked a loose strand of her hair behind her ear, the gesture surprisingly tender.
But when his gaze caught the storm still lingering in her eyes, he took a careful step back.
"Please," he said more softly this time, "come and sit. I'll tell you why the decision was made so suddenly. There are only two reasons—but I can't speak if you're standing there ready to bite my head off."
Gina inhaled sharply, composing herself. After a pause, she walked over and sat—arms crossed, lips pressed into a pout, but calmer.
Rnzo took his seat again, watching her with that same quiet amusement.
"The first reason," he began, "is that Lord Kaisen wishes to marry. But he insists that I wed you first—so his own union may follow without delay."
Her expression shifted from irritation to curiosity. "So you mean… Lord Kaisen has found someone already?"
"Yes," Rnzo replied without hesitation. "Mirha."
Gina's eyes widened. "What?" she gasped, standing abruptly. "Mirha?"
Her outburst only made Rnzo chuckle under his breath. "Keep your voice down," he said, pulling her gently closer by the wrist. "It's still a secret. Don't go spreading it through the palace."
Gina covered her mouth, smiling despite herself. "Does Mirha know?"
"Not exactly," Rnzo said, "but Kaisen has told her he wishes to court her."
A small squeal escaped her, and she clapped her hands together like a child given a gift. "Oh, this is the best thing I've heard all day!" she laughed, doing a little twirl on the spot, all anger forgotten.
Rnzo leaned back, watching her in quiet amusement—the way her smile brightened the room, how easily joy replaced her storm. When she turned again, she found herself standing close to him, her laughter fading into soft breath.
Rnzo's eyes softened as he reached out, gently lifting her chin.
"I said," he murmured, voice dropping to a near whisper, "there are two reasons."
Rnzo's gaze lingered on her, the room suddenly much quieter than before. He reached for her cheek — a slow, deliberate gesture — and before she could retreat, she found herself already within his hold.
Her breath caught.
He rose from his chair, his presence now towering over her, the air between them taut and heavy. With careful steadiness, his hand moved to her waist. He drew her closer — not harshly, but with a commanding gentleness that made her pulse race.
Gina's back brushed the edge of the table behind her as Rnzo guided her to sit. His movements were measured, restrained, yet filled with unspoken intent.
For a moment, he leaned in — his face close enough for her to feel the warmth of his breath — but Gina turned her head aside, her lashes fluttering as her heart pounded in her chest.
Rnzo paused, his lips near her ear, and his voice came low, roughened with longing.
"You're making this difficult for me, Gina," he murmured.
Her breathing quickened.
He pressed a light kiss just below her ear, then along her neck — not forceful, but reverent, almost aching in its control. His hand at her waist tensed slightly, betraying the emotion he was fighting to contain.
"Please…" she whispered, her voice barely audible — though even she couldn't tell whether she was asking him to stop or to stay.
Rnzo drew back slowly, his gaze tracing her face. The flush on her cheeks, the tremor in her hands — everything about her was beautifully disarming.
With visible effort, he took a step back, exhaling softly as though to steady himself.
"It's taking every ounce of discipline I have," he said quietly, his tone now serious, "not to ruin this moment… or that beautiful gown you're wearing."
Gina lowered her gaze, her voice caught in her throat. She slid down from the table, her fingers brushing the fabric of her dress as if to compose herself.
Rnzo stepped closer again, lifting a stray curl from her face. His touch lingered, tender now, stripped of mischief. He cupped her cheek gently, and she bit her lip — a nervous, unintentional gesture that made his heart soften even more.
He didn't say anything for a while. Then, with quiet restraint, he pressed a kiss to her forehead.
"Until then…" he said, voice warm but firm, "take care, Gina."
When the doors opened at his signal, the cool air from the corridor brushed her face. He took her hand, kissed it with quiet formality, and released her.
Gina bowed slightly — still too flustered to meet his eyes — then turned and walked away. The sound of her steps faded down the hall, leaving Rnzo standing alone in the dim chamber, the faintest smile lingering on his lips.
Gina walked briskly down the corridor, her hands clasped together to still the flutter in her chest. The air felt cooler now, as though it knew she needed it to calm the storm inside her.
By the time she reached her chambers, she leaned against the door for a moment — eyes closed, lips pressed together — letting herself breathe.
Her mind replayed Rnzo's words, his closeness, his restraint. It made her heart race all over again. But as the memory softened, another thought quickly replaced it — Kaisen and Mirha.
A wide smile crept onto her face.
She almost squealed, catching herself just in time. "Oh, Mirha…" she whispered, pacing the room like a girl with a secret too sweet to keep. She wanted to run to her friend, to tell her everything — to see the look on Mirha's face when she learned Kaisen meant to ask for her hand.
But then Rnzo's voice echoed in her mind: "It's a secret."
Gina bit her lip, torn between the thrill of sharing and the promise she'd just made. She let out a small laugh, the kind that bubbles up when happiness has nowhere else to go.
Turning toward the mirror, she tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and smoothed her gown. Her cheeks were still flushed, but she looked... radiant.
"Compose yourself, Gina," she whispered, smiling at her reflection. "No one needs to know what just happened."
After a moment, she straightened her posture, drew in a slow breath, and walked back toward the garden where the ladies were gathered.
As soon as she appeared, the change in her mood was impossible to miss. The cloud that had hovered over her earlier was gone — replaced by a quiet glow and a soft, dreamy smile she couldn't quite hide.
Kanha noticed first. "You look… different," she said with a teasing tilt of her head.
Goya leaned closer, eyes narrowing playfully. "Different? She looks happy. Happier than anyone I've seen today."
Gina's lips curved into a shy grin. "Can't a lady just be in a good mood?"
Mirha smiled at her, unaware of the real reason for that light in her eyes. "Well," she said gently, "whatever it is, I'm glad you're smiling again."
Gina reached for her hand under the table and gave it a small squeeze. "You'll be smiling soon too," she murmured softly — more to herself than anyone else — and for the rest of the afternoon, her laughter was the brightest among them.
Mirha raised her eyebrows "Why will i?"
The laughter around the garden slowly turned into soft conversation, but Gina couldn't sit still anymore. Her excitement was too much to contain — it was practically spilling from her every movement.
She suddenly got up, her chair scraping lightly against the stone path, and reached for Mirha's hand. "Come, Mirha!" she exclaimed, tugging her to her feet.
Before Mirha could ask what was happening, Gina spun her around in a joyful twirl, her laughter echoing through the garden like chimes in the breeze. "We're getting married!" she cried, eyes sparkling.
Mirha blinked, half laughing, half startled. "Wait— you mean you and the Duke?" she asked, her tone a mix of surprise and amusement.
For a split second, Gina froze — her mouth parted, her eyes wide as the realization struck her like lightning. She had almost revealed too much.
Recovering quickly, she flipped her hair back with exaggerated grace and said, "Of course, who else?"
Mirha laughed softly, shaking her head. "You nearly gave me a heart attack."
Gina linked her arm with hers, trying to hide her flustered grin. "You should be happy for me, not dying from shock," she teased, though her heart still pounded from her near slip.
The others looked up at them curiously, Goya raising a brow. "You two seem to have your own little world today," she said with a knowing smile.
Gina squeezed Mirha's arm tighter, forcing herself to stay calm. "Just celebrating good news, that's all," she said lightly.
Mirha chuckled, unaware that Gina's excitement ran far deeper than her own engagement — that the real reason for her joy stood quietly in the shadows of a secret that wasn't hers to tell.
Still, the air around them shimmered with happiness, and as they sat down again, Gina couldn't help glancing at Mirha every so often — her heart racing at the thought of what was soon to come.