Aquila sat stiffly at the edge of the table, one leg crossed neatly over the other, arms folded as her silver gaze burned holes into the carpet. Zuleika, meanwhile, knelt directly in front of her, legs folded beneath her like a scolded child. Her crimson eyes flicked up—just once—only to meet Aquila's blazing glare.
Instant regret.
She quickly dropped her gaze again, lips puckering into the faintest pout.
"Explain," Aquila said at last, her voice like ice cracking across a frozen lake.
Zuleika's lips pressed together in a thin line. For a heartbeat, she tried to look pitiful, but under Aquila's stare, she wilted. "…Fine," she muttered, then launched into a whispery explanation of what she had overheard: the Duke's scheme, the assassination order, every word she'd caught.
When she finished, Aquila leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. "So," she hissed, "you thought the best way to handle that situation… was to throw yourself at me like some kind of—" Her voice choked on sheer indignation. "—scandalous distraction?"
Zuleika blinked, then tilted her head, poking one cheek with her index finger as if thinking hard. "…Yes?"
Aquila's smile twitched—tight, sharp, the kind that came with veins threatening to burst on her temple. Her cheek spasmed as she forced herself to breathe.
"You… reckless…" she started, only for Zuleika to cut in with a sly grin, "Was that your first kiss?"
Silence.
Aquila's expression went unreadable—stone mask, lips sealed, gaze fixed somewhere over Zuleika's head. Then, in one smooth, deadly motion, she lifted her crossed leg and planted her heel squarely on Zuleika's forehead.
Zuleika's eyes went round as saucers.
"A–Aquila—??"
"Shut. Your. Mouth." Her voice was low, dangerous, every syllable laced with restrained violence. The pressure on Zuleika's forehead increased, pinning her backward ever so slightly. "Before I do something I won't regret."
Zuleika didn't know whether to grin or cry. Her hands hovered awkwardly in the air as she tried to balance under Aquila's unladylike but terrifying shove. "…Yes, ma'am," she whispered meekly, lowering her head further like a soldier surrendering.
The sight of the usually smug, fiery Zuleika kneeling with Aquila's heel pressed to her forehead was so absurd, Aquila had to shut her eyes to keep from snapping altogether.
Aquila rose from the table in one sharp, elegant movement, her dress swishing as if even the fabric shared her irritation. Zuleika scrambled to her feet as well, brushing the dust from her dress, crimson eyes darting after her.
"So…" she began cautiously, tilting her head, "what's the plan now, Princess?"
Aquila adjusted her gloves, expression carved from stone. "We have no evidence," she said flatly. "If we move now, it will only look like baseless slander. And besides…" Her silver gaze flicked to Zuleika, sharp as a blade. "…taking down the Duke of the West without preparation would be reckless. A waste of strategy."
Zuleika hummed, rocking back on her heels. "So we're just… letting him breathe easy for now?"
"We," Aquila corrected, her tone clipped, "are leaving. My mood is already ruined, and I have no patience left for charades tonight."
Zuleika pressed a hand to her chest, feigning offense. "Ruined mood? What, was it because of the Duke? Or…" her lips curved into a teasing smirk, "…the kiss?"
Aquila froze mid-step. Her head turned slowly, silver eyes glinting with enough cold fury to freeze an ocean.
"…Say that again," she warned, her voice dropping low, dangerous.
Zuleika wisely zipped her lips shut, miming the motion with her fingers. "Not a word, ma'am," she whispered dramatically, even giving a fake salute as she followed behind her.
Together, they slipped back into the hall, masks of composed princesses restored—though Aquila's shoulders were taut with restrained rage, and Zuleika's smirk never once faded.
The music hushed when the two princesses reentered the hall, their steps perfectly composed despite the storm that brewed in their silence. The Duchess of Zhenka immediately rose, worry etched into her features as she approached.
"Your Highnesses," she said softly, "where have you been? We were beginning to wonder—"
Aquila gave her the faintest smile, her voice calm and steady. "Forgive us, Duchess. I am not feeling well. We thought it best to leave early before I worsen."
The Duchess blinked, startled, then her expression softened with concern. "Oh, dear. Of course—please rest. I'll inform my husband of your departure."
Aquila inclined her head gracefully. "You are most kind. We are grateful for your hospitality."
Zuleika followed suit, bowing her head politely, though her crimson eyes lingered on the Duchess with a flicker of something sharper.
Moments later, the two princesses stepped out of the hall, the cool night air wrapping around them. Captain Rhys stood waiting, eyes widening when he saw them emerge earlier than expected.
"Your Highnesses," he said quickly, straightening. "You're leaving already?"
Aquila swept past him without a word, climbing into the carriage.
Zuleika lingered by Rhys, leaning in close enough that her whisper was sharp and deliberate. "Be alert. From this moment until we reach the estate, watch every shadow. When we arrive, tighten security around the entire perimeter. No one moves without your say."
Rhys blinked, taken aback. "Princess… what happened?"
Zuleika's expression hardened, the playful light gone from her eyes. "I overheard the Duke. He's plotting an assassination. The target is Princess Aquila."
Rhys's face blanched, fists clenching at his side. "What—! Then why leave him breathing?"
Zuleika's crimson gaze slid toward the carriage door where Aquila sat in silence. Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Because now isn't the time. Until Princess Aquila gives the word, you keep your sword sheathed. But," her voice dropped, dangerous and sharp, "if anyone so much as breathes wrong in our direction, cut them down without hesitation."
Rhys straightened, his jaw tight. "Understood, Your Highness."
Only then did Zuleika climb into the carriage, her laughter faint and false as she closed the door behind her.
The carriage wheels rumbled steadily against the dirt road, the lanterns swaying with every turn. Aquila sat with her gaze fixed on the horizon outside her window, silver eyes reflecting the faint glow of the moonlight. Across from her, Zuleika mirrored the posture but in the opposite direction, her chin propped against her gloved hand, crimson eyes narrowed as she caught the fleeting shape of a shadow slipping among the trees.
She said nothing. Not yet. Instead, her mind turned, sharp and calculating—if they truly came tonight, then perhaps fate was handing her the very proof they needed to topple the Zhenkas.
The silence between them stretched, taut and brittle.
Then Aquila's voice broke through, low and controlled.
The carriage swayed gently, the silence thick between them. Aquila's arms were crossed, her brows knit in thought. Finally, she turned, silver eyes narrowing on Zuleika.
"…Tell me the truth," she said, her tone low but edged with curiosity. "The reason you don't want the Crown Prince… is it because you're into girls?"
Zuleika blinked once. Twice. Then a third time before her lips curved into a slow grin. "Ohhh," she drawled, a chuckle slipping out as she leaned forward on her knees.
"Princess Aquila, are you asking me if I'm secretly head-over-heels for you?"
Aquila's face twitched, heat pricking her ears. "That is not what I said."
Zuleika broke into laughter, her shoulders shaking, hand covering her mouth like she'd just been handed the best joke of her life.
"Ahaha—you should've seen your face! So serious, like you're interrogating me for treason."
"Because I am serious," Aquila shot back, glaring.
Still laughing softly, Zuleika leaned back against the cushions, her crimson eyes gleaming. "For the record," she said with a sweet, careless smile, "gender doesn't matter to me. If I love someone, I love them. Simple as that."
Aquila's brows furrowed tighter. "Do you even understand what it means to love? Or are you just romanticizing something you've never felt?"
That silenced Zuleika for a moment. Then her smile softened—not teasing, but sincere. "I know," she said, her voice low but sure. "I've never loved anyone romantically, not yet. But I know the difference between friendship and something more. And when I do love someone… I won't do it halfway. I'll love recklessly."
She leaned back, head tilted, eyes fixed on Aquila with startling intensity. "Which is why I know it's not him. No sparks, no fire. Nothing."
Aquila stared, lips parting but no words leaving. At last, she sighed and looked away, muttering under her breath, "Absurd… utterly absurd."
Zuleika just chuckled again, clearly pleased with herself, her crimson eyes never leaving Aquila's profile.
The carriage wheels crunched against the gravel as it halted before the residence. Servants hurried forward, bowing as the doors opened.
Aquila stepped down first, her posture regal despite her weary expression. She had just set one foot toward the grand staircase when Zuleika's voice called after her.
"Princess Aquila," she said casually, almost too casually, "you should sleep in my room tonight."
Aquila froze mid-step. Her silver eyes cut back over her shoulder, sharp with suspicion. "Excuse me?"
Zuleika smiled—gentle, innocent, as if she were suggesting nothing more than a whim. "My bed is larger. And softer. You'll sleep better." She tilted her head, her turquoise hair slipping like silk down her shoulder. "Besides, it's… safer."
"Safer?" Aquila echoed, brow furrowing deeper. "What in the world do you mean by that?"
Zuleika shrugged, her gloved fingers idly toying with the bracelet on her wrist. "Mmm, just that it's a quieter wing. Fewer drafts, fewer creaking floors. Less… disturbance."
Aquila narrowed her eyes, scanning Zuleika's face as if trying to read her thoughts. "You're hiding something."
"Am I?" Zuleika smiled wider, lips curving with infuriating calm. "Or maybe I just don't want to sleep alone tonight."
Aquila's brow twitched. "Tch. Unbelievable." Yet despite herself, she hesitated, her gaze flickering between Zuleika's crimson eyes and that sly little smile.
Zuleika only tilted her head toward the stairs, her voice soft, sing-song. "So… are you coming or not?"