LOGIN“Have you ever considered taking a pen pal, Ana?” Maddie uses the nickname. It’s a habit of hers when we are alone.
“Pen pal?” I repeat.
What is she going on about this time?
It’s been a month since Maddie started. But it doesn’t feel like much time has passed. Maybe because she makes everything seem, I don’t know, odd?
She never seems to run out of questions. That’s for sure.
Maddie moves to smell one of the roses. We are walking through her garden right now—the great garden of the late Empress Parsul, my mother.
It’s the only remains of her reign. Everything else was destroyed, as is the custom in Nochten. We purge anything of the dead.
I think that is why no one visits this place. It stays deserted, save for me.
Well, except for Maddie. She seems to like them as much as I do.
“Why would I do that?”
"Why do you think so?" Maddie leans down to fluff my hair.
“Stop,” I shift away, but Maddie plops her hand over my head. It feels warm on my scalp. It’s calming
“To make a friend, you silly goose.” Maddie goes on with a pat.
“Who would want to do that?” Let alone who will want to write to me.
Now I have to laugh.
“You’re the one being silly, Maddie.”
“Smart-ass,” Maddie bops my nose before going ahead. Her long legs take up a wider distance.
"Wait!" I start after her.
“Don’t leave me.”
“Easy, kid,” Maddie stops.
“You think I’m going to run away or something?”
“That-” She wouldn’t be the first. But I don’t say it. I just quicken my step.
“I just don’t want you to get lost.”
“Is that right?” Maddie smirks but waits until I catch up.
“Here,” Maddie reaches down.
“Maddie?” I hesitate at her hand. The gesture is still foreign to me. However, Maddie seems to like to do it a lot. It makes her happy.
If it makes her happy, then-
I gingerly take it, and Maddie smiles instantly. Her big fingers curl around mine. They are warm.
I like it.
“You never know. It can be quite fun.” Maddie winks. Apparently, That’s what it means to blink with one eye.
Winking is a new thing to me, like many other things.
“But I don’t have anyone to write to,”
“Yes, you do.” Maddie chirps,
“Who would that be then?”
“Well, what about your Father?”
“The king?” I freeze up right there.
“You mean King Alexander?”
Maddie nods, picking a petal.
“Don’t you ever wonder what your father could be thinking about?”
Do I? Something turns in my stomach. It’s shaky and sits badly in the space.
"No."
“Well, What if I were to say he thinks of you?” Maddie holds the petal.
“Would that change your mind?”
“I don’t like this question” I let go and cross my arms. My eyes are already glossy, but I stare at the roses.
No, not today. I was doing so well today.
I wipe my eye with the back of my hand to stop the first tear.
“Maybe he misses you?”
“I’m tired of talking, Maddie.” I sprint ahead.
“Ana-” Maddie follows, but I walk even faster.
I want to get out of this conversation.
Because nothing good ever comes from talking about THAT.
-x-
“What about your brother?” Maddie throws the question while in the study.
“Maddie, please,”
I thought we were done with this. But Maddie is still going at it.
“Don’t you want to see the Prince?”
“It’s study time.” I gesture to the book.
And I don’t want to talk about this anymore. But Maddie must not understand.
Or she refuses because she ignores me.
"So?" Maddie takes a seat beside me. She leans over to see the book. But with one look at the picture-less page, she gags and pushes it back.
"Good grief! How can you read this stuff?"
"Easily," I laugh. I’ve never seen someone so expressive. She always has a face for something.
it’s funny
"I could teach you if you like."
"NO. THANKS." Maddie rolls her eyes.
Thinking that the end of the discussion, I jotted down some notes. The quill scratches the paper in the silence.
This is nice. I find the break quite peaceful.
But it doesn’t last.
“Prince Nicoli has never gotten to meet you, Ana.”
I flinch when at the name.
“Maddie, please-”
“I am just saying,” Maddie stands from the desk.
“You are so different from him,”
“Who? Nicoli?” The name tastes weird on my tongue.
It’s the first time I had to say it aloud.
“How would you know?”
“He’s quite popular. Always smiling and laughing. He has your father’s blue eyes, too, you know. “
“My father?” My stomach sinks.
My face must say it all because Maddie squeezes my shoulder gently.
“Have you ever met the Prince?”
“No, I-” I was sent away shortly before he was born. But the words stick in my throat.
Because the words bring up those memories again, and I’d rather not remember.
“I've never met him." I go instead, cut and dry.
“Would you like to?”
Maddie tucks my hair to the side.
“I’m sure he’d want to meet you.”
“I…” meet me? I turn to look back and catch the mirror.
There I am. Red eyes and silver hair. I don’t have those famous blue eyes like fathers—or my little brother, apparently.
We are nothing alike.
The sight only makes me more aware of it.
“He could be eager to see you, your Empress.” Maddie, meanwhile, goes.
“Prince Nicoli may be thinking of you right now,”
“And how would you know that?” I push away her hand. My voice is clearly doubtful because I am.
“There has not been a single word from Dawny. Not Papa, not anyone.” I look down at the book, but it’s useless.
There’s no way I can read now. The Tears make everything all blurry. It’s annoying.
“Four years and nothing.” I wipe off the free tear just for another to fall.
“Little Ana,” Maddie pulls me into her arms.
I stiffen in my chair when she does. It's another gesture of hers: hugging. But it is still too new to be comfortable.
My aunt and uncle never hug me. No one has for as long as I can remember.
Is it normal to hug people?
I wouldn’t even know who to ask.
“I hear you.” Maddie, meanwhile, pulls back. She clicks her tongue at my tears but moves to wipe them off. Her sleeves scratches a little. But I don’t mind it.
Actually, it sort of feels nice. It feels warm like her hands, but I don’t dare say out loud.
It might be too strange.
“But sometimes time can make things much harder to do- more so the older you get.” Maddie goes on.
“What do you mean?” I blink up between tears. “What are you saying?”
Is she saying Papa wants to talk to me?
No, that can’t be true.
“Maddie, he doesn’t want me-”
“Maybe the King’s a big coward?” ” Maddie pushes a strand of hair behind my ear.
“Ever thought of that?”
“Coward?”
“Uh-huh.” Maddie nods. “And maybe that’s why he hasn’t yet.”
“That-” For a moment, a glimmer of doubt does cross my mind. But no, that can’t be.
“Maddie-” It’s preposterous, but I don’t get to say it before Maddie goes.
“I bet you he’s waiting on you to act first.”
“For me?”
“Yup.” And Maddie bops my nose.
“I think the balls are in your court.”
“Ball?” I don’t understand, but Maddie smiles.
“Come on,” And she opens a drawer for fresh paper.
“Maddie,” But she shakes her head and puts it in front of me anyway.
“Just a little letter wouldn’t hurt, now would it?” She pushes my hand to it.
“Just a simple letter, Ana.” Maddie gives a reassuring squeeze.
“Just do that, and I’ll stop.”
"Do you promise?” I perk up. I don’t just mean about the letter.
“We won’t ever speak of this again?”
Maddie nods.
“Cross my heart,” Maddie draws a line over her chest with her finger. I don’t know what it means.
But it sounds convincing enough for me.
“You promised.” I remind her before I dip the quill in ink.
“Just one letter.”
*Belinda*Bratha lowered herself into the waiting chair with the slow, deliberate care of someone long accustomed to furniture fearing her. The reinforced frame held firm beneath her weight — not even the faintest groan escaping the hidden iron braces. Belinda allowed herself a small, private measure of satisfaction to that. Every measurement had been her own. Every joint checked twice.She wouldn’t have to replace the head of carpentry any time soon."Forgive me, my dear friend." Bratha settled back against the deep green velvet, the fabric absorbing her bulk without complaint. "I did not mean to keep you waiting."Belinda returned to her own seat, carefully sliding the bulk of her dress to one armrest in a fluid motion that matched her voice. "You hardly did." Bratha did not answer immediately after. Rather, she settled fully into the chair — the rest of her weight easing into the reinforced frame, as though testing that the promise held before trusting it entirely — and for a mom
*Belinda*Belinda had pulled out all the stops for their tea. The table gleamed beneath the tall windows, each piece placed meticulously, enough so, that even the servants seemed reluctant to dare even breathe near it. White porcelain edged in gold caught the fleeting afternoon light, thin and gold-shot where it fell through the glass. Three pots waited over their silver warmers — black tea, a softer pear blend, and the bitter mountain infusion Bratha had once declared the only thing in all of Dawny with any courage in it. Belinda had made a particular point of bringing out that one.She could already picture the smile it would draw — the widening of those blunt white teeth, the peridot eyes lighting with pleasant surprise that Belinda had bothered to remember so small a thing.But it was exactly why Belinda remembered. It was exactly how two women such as themselves had remained friends across so many years.Anything for my dearest friend, after all.The thought settled warm and eas
*Hildenberg*Hidi choked on her own tongue.It suddenly sat too thick between her teeth. Like swallowing honey gone stiff with wax. It clung to every crevice of that warm cavern, filling the space where words should form. All the more making it a struggle of the simplest things. To speak. Think. Even utter a single clean syllable.She staggered to blink a moment, as if slow to restart, as though the very suggestion had knocked something loose in the machinery of her. Her mother. Mama. Would she really—No. No, she would never. That certainty alone restored her confidence enough to melt the waxy blockades from her mouth. Revive her comatose tongue. And suck in enough air to revive her from the shadows of doubt. Leaving her only with firm conviction. “You wouldn’t dare.” Her voice found its footing and began to build, momentum gathering behind it like a great boulder loosed on a snowy slope. "You have no right—"“I have every right to refuse work that is no longer mine.” Hidi’s fa
*Hildenberg*No.The refusal rose in Hidi before her mother had even finished settling the weight of the word between them. No, not this. Not now.She did not want to think about Almony. She did not want to begin to think about the stupid grain houses or the villages or the petitions stacked on a table two winter passes away — not tonight, not with wine souring in her stomach and Nicoli's silence still scraping the inside of her skull and her own reflection hovering ghostlike in the dark glass. There was no room in her for it. She was full to the brim already with the one problem she couldn’t even inch out, let alone slove. And yet, here was an ambush set up in her very room, and her mother wasn’t looking like she was amused or rattling at her. Hidi understood that in the pit of her stomach.No, this was not like any of the other times. Her mother was not sparring anymore. Was not delivering the familiar, worn jabs that had passed between them for years, the ones Hidi knew how to ca
*Hildenberg* Peridot eyes met hers. That very same shade Hidi saw in every mirror — that particular green, cool and clear, the color that had reminded her all her life of exactly where she had come from. How, as a child, Hidi took such delight in it. In finding that matching pair of eyes across a room and watching them find her back.The way they would light when they landed on her, sparkling with a joy that seemed to belong to Hidi, and just Hidi alone, out of anyone else from her brothers or sisters. Something as if there was only one thing in the room that was worth looking at, she was it. Hidi took pride in it. Held onto that look that made her heart swell each time. Making her drop whatever was in her hands at the time, and storm across, arms already open, certain of her welcome. Certain that she would be caught up. Lifted. And held inside broad warm arms, the safest place any person in the world could be.Because she was favored. Loved. The one best liked out of anyone else. A
*Hildenberg*It took everything in her not to just run. Though every part of Hidi wanted to. She wanted more than anything to just break for it, let her legs do what they were built to do, cover ground fast and without apology, and allow herself the dignity of falling apart somewhere no one could catalogue the specifics. To stumble. Gasp. Press her back against some anonymous stretch of stone wall and let out everything that was climbing her throat in hard, ugly increments.But that would not do. Giants, especially royal ones, did not flee down corridors like wounded little girls with crushed flower crowns. Weeping pathetically with tears burning behind their eyes and their hands curled so hard their nails bit crescents into their palms. Queens of Almony did not run.Fiancées of a Prince, soon to be crowned King of Dawny, most definitely did not run. She reminded herself.So Hidi did not run.That left her with only the next best thing.Hidi moved.Her stride widened — great long l
*Ana* When the carriage enters the town, we start to slow. The wheels clack and wobble as they cross the cobble roads. Our journey is finally coming to an end. The Dawny castle should be just ahead. My heart jumps up my throat, and I swing to the window to peer out. “About time,” Maddie relaxes.
*Ana* I hold the little gift box tied in blue ribbon carefully on my lap as the carriage door closes after Maddie. The maid takes a seat and smiles across the cabin. “And how are we feeling, my little Ana?” Maddie starts. 'My little Ana?' I feel my cheeks warm at the new nickname. Maddie is be
*King Alexander* Alexander frowned at the table of the council. His advisors exchanged anxious looks between them. The news, they could see, had clearly upset the man. Why must such things happen now? King Alexander lamented. Could it not have happened before? Or better, to take place after? No,
*Uncle* Ana’s Uncle did not enjoy change. He was a systematic man with a tendency to habit. It was a quality that he and his niece seemed to share. But each for different reasons. Where Ana followed routines to fight her isolation, Uncle preferred it. Uncle was a slow speaker and could not keep u







