LOGIN*Ana*
“Dear Empress Anastasia of Nochten, Princess of Dawny, my daughter-“ And I have to stop as the word lingers on my lips.
He…called me daughter? I feel like the wind is kicked out of me.
“Go on,” Maddie chirps, leaning over my shoulder.
I find myself looking to Aunt Funda. She stands at the opposite side of the desk. She nods in agreement to keep going. There is a clear look of interest in her eyes.
“How wonderful to see you take the initiative to reconcile with me. But don’t be hard on yourself, It’s my fault as much as it is for you.“
Do you mean that? I pause again as my head spins. He is not mad at me?
“Ah-hem.” Aunt Funda clears her throat loudly.
“Your Empress,” Her eyes target the letter.
"Oh, I- yes," Embarrassed, I quickly return to reading.
“I hope that this will also mark a beginning between us. We can become a warm family once more. I have longed to reconnect with you. And it pleases me to see you reach out first. As I can’t help but worry for you. As any father will toward his children.
And, concerning your request to meet your brother, Prince Nicoli-“
I stop to take a breath. I didn’t realize I had been holding it in all this time. But I was. And my heart is pounding- it hits hard on my ribs that it shakes my chest.
What will he say? How will he answer? Would he say no?
I’m not sure if I can read anymore. I don’t trust myself- I’m so anxious.
If he rejects me…
I already feel my chest tighten. I can’t think of a worse thing that could happen. It makes me wish I never wrote at all. Everything was so much easier without this- why did I have to be a fool and write?
But what if he says yes?
“Go on,” Both Maddie and Aunt Funda speak together. The two, finding themselves in sync, regard each other wearily.
It doesn’t look like I have a choice to stop. I see they are waiting for me. Their eyes eat at me and I swallow hard.
Nervously I turn back to the letter.
“- I will make preparations in half a fortnight to accommodate your arrival. You are most welcome in my home as more than an honored guest but as a family.
Until said time, if you have any questions, do not hesitate. I look forward to your following correspondence.
Love your Father,
Alexander Brokenoff, King of Dawny.
P.s. It gladdens me to see you want to meet Nicoli. But I must warn you not to indulge him. I fear he may be getting spoiled by all the maids and his mother already. If you were to dote on him too, I fear it will go to his head.
You'll soon learn for yourself he is quite the little imp.
Farewell until then.”
“He…said yes?” I am slow to believe it. No, it can’t be. I must have read something wrong.
Sure that I have, I re-read it. No, it still looks the same. So I read it a third time. But it’s the same.
How is this possible?
“Oh, Empress! Ana! I’m so happy for you-“ Maddie throws her arms around to hug me. I stiffen but force my shoulders down. The act of hugging is starting to work on me. But it still catches me off guard when she does.
“The King said yes!” Maddie is almost screaming.
“He did…didn’t he,” I feel myself looking down on myself from above. Is any of this real? Even the words feel strange in my mouth.
Could this really happen?
I look back at the letter. I feel it- it’s physical in my hands but I doubt if I still am awake. At any point, the letter will vanish in a puff of smoke. It has to.
This has to be a dream. I can’t see it any other way. It just has to.
But if it is, part of me wishes
I don’t wake up.Just keep sleeping.
*Aunt Funda*
Aunt Funda, meanwhile, watched her niece break into a smile. It made her back stiffen. Her mood had turned for the worst.
This is terrible. She couldn’t push away the growing feeling of dread.
But on the outside, Aunt Funda fixed her features. She appeared collected before making a professional smile.
“Your Empress, “ Aunt Funda began between Maddie’s cheers and Ana’s excitement.
Upon her voice, Ana wiggled free from Maddie's arms. Her smile flattened when she looked at her.
“Yes, Aunt Funda?”
“Do you plan to take up this invitation from the Dawny King?”
Aunt Funda purposely referred to the man as ‘King’ and not Father. She wanted to maintain a distance between such words to prevent the girl from entertaining any other ideas.
Maddie, however, just laughed.
“Of course she is, you a daft thing!” Maddie pulled Ana up from her chair.
“Can’t you see how happy she is?”
“Oh my,” Aunt Funda gasped, then frowned. How dare she speak to her in such a manner. The maid was atrocious.
This maid thinks too highly of herself. Aunt Funda narrowed her eyes to glare. But Maddie ignored her to dance.
"Come here, you!" Maddie laughed and pulled Ana up from her spot.
“Maddie-“ Ana stumbled awkwardly, not understanding what the maid was doing. Her confusion grew as Maddie started singing.
“We’re going to Dawny,” Maddie began to twirl.
“We’re going to see the Prince,”
“Maddie, please-“ Ana tried to protest again, but Maddie only took her for another twirl. The motion brought Ana to outright laugh and smile.
“Maddie-”
Ana started to move with the maid, be it, very stiffly.
"What are you both doing?" Aunt Funda gasped in horror. She twitched as her eyes darted from one to the other. The sheer spectacle that was happening before her was beyond words.
This maid is not just bold, but Ana’s allowing it! Aunt Funda growled
She's being influenced! The line between servant and master had disappeared.
Since when did the maid hold such rapport with her niece? That she could have this much sway? Aunt Funda could see she held a considerable influence on the girl than even her.
It was the worst thing she could find someone else to do. Aunt Funda could not have it. It could jeopardize their entire operations.
I must end this before it goes too far! Aunt Funda vowed.
“Your Empress?” Aunt Funda repeated herself at the ignored question. She could see the girl still being led by the dancing Maddie. But Ana seemed aware enough to become serious once more.
“Prepare my luggage and make travel plans,” Ana spoke clearly before bursting into a shocked cry as she was lifted off the ground.
“We’re going to Dawny,” Maddie repeated and swung Ana about. Ana giggled in motion.
“Maddie, put me down.” Ana breathed between laughs.
“I’m getting dizzy.”
Aunt Funda sneered at the display before her. The sight of them was now beyond unbearable. She could not put up with it anymore.
Staying any longer will only be a waste of my time. Aunt Funda could see.
I have more important things to do than watch this clownery.
“I shall take leave then, your Empress.” Aunt Funda made a curtsey, but Ana was distracted.
She only laughed as Maddie twirled her again. Aunt Funda seemed to have already been forgotten. Aunt Funda dismissed herself from the room.
I’ve never seen my niece in such a way. Aunt Funda dropped her smile in the hall. The scene had shocked her deeply.
To be happy and smiling like some average child? Ana is not how she used to be.
She is changed! The sudden development bothered her. When did this all start?
That maid ... Aunt Funda could only blame. Her nails dug into her clenched fist to cut skin.
That damn human-
“Husband!” Aunt Funda bellowed, setting off down the hall.
"She's at it again." A maid whispered to her partner.
"Just keep your head down." A boy servant whispered. Everyone knew it was best to keep their distance when she was like this.
Where the devil is he? Aunt Funda thought, growing erratic. She paid no attention as she headed toward the wing of the palace.
I need to speak with him. Everything is going wrong.
“Husband!”
*Belinda*A flush of crimson surged up her throat like blood through water, blooming hot beneath her high-buttoned collar before the door had even finished groaning open. The heat crawled along her spine with fingers of flame, settling sharp as glass shards behind her cheekbones, painting her pale skin with the particular shade of fury that comes from fear turned inward.And, for once, she didn’t bother to smooth it down.Didn't reach for that practiced mask of serenity. Had the fury and something else, that terrible, tender thing she'd tried to kill—flicker wild across her face like shadows from a dying fire. The heavy moan of the shattered the hearth's constant crackle, that ceaseless whisper of wood surrendering to flame that had masked her approach. It was enough, barely, to drag his attention from whatever foolishness had possessed him this time.Alexander froze.Thin, parchment-colored fingers stiffened mid-motion. His knuckles jutted out like branches stripped bare. The feathe
*Julia*The drawer hung open behind her like an accusation, its contents forgotten, abandoned mid-search. Her frustrated vexation over misplaced things had evaporated like steam, rendered meaningless beneath the weight of a single, unbearable gaze.A pair of pale brown eyes, steady and unreadable,anchored her in place and swallowed the room whole.Julia didn't move. Couldn't.She only stood caught between breath and stillness, spine locked in the posture of a woman who had risen too quickly—the motion fossilizing inside her bones as if her very skeleton had turned traitor. Her arm remained frozen in space, fingers curled just above the open drawer like a hand reaching for salvation that would never come.Halfway to something. Halfway to ruin. Halfway to nowhere at all. The scent of the tea hung between them —bark and crushed hips, root and silence. Steam rose from the pot's spout in a thin, translucent ribbon, spiraling upward with languid grace before the room's heat caught it, ben
*Julia* Julia stopped so suddenly her skirt swayed like a bell behind her, the stiff fabric sighing against her stockings with a dry rustle. She stood just shy of the spicery—no, the jar store, as it was formally called on the records—but everyone who mattered knew its true nature. A vault of flavors. A treasury of scent. One of the most guarded and indulgent rooms in the entire castle, where kingdoms could be toppled with a pinch of the wrong powder. It’s door looked identical to its siblings in this corridor—dark oak bearing the same ornate carvings, the same patterns of roses and thorns that decorated every surface in this wing. Save for one crucial difference.This door was always locked. Always.It required a key—not just any key, but an intricate, custom-forged piece of metalwork so unique that duplicating it would require the original locksmith's hands, and he'd been dead for thirty years. A key given only to those who had proven themselves beyond loyalty, beyond question. Th
*Nicoli*Nicoli exhaled, the breath leaving him in tatters, sharp and unraveling at the edges like fabric overworn and too thin."Well," he muttered at last to the empty room, forcing his mouth into a crooked crescent of lips and brittle humor, "at least the tea had a lovely time."The joke fell flat, of course, as most did when the only audience was dying embers and a half-devoured plate of biscuits. Still, he let the words linger in the quiet, clinging to the hollow echo of them like they might soften the edge of everything else.He turned back to the table, its surface still pristine in all the ways that mattered—and ruined in all the ways that didn’t.The fine tea remained untouched in cups so delicate they seemed to hold light rather than liquid. Gold traced their rims like captured sunlight, and the aroma still haunted the air—cardamom and star anise, citrus peel kissed with clove, a blend his mother hoarded like dragon's gold. She rarely shared it, even with distinguished guest
*Nicoli*Marry… The word didn't land. It fractured. Splitting through him like ice spreading across glass, each crack branching into a thousand smaller breaks until his entire inner landscape was a spider web of damage.The space beneath his ribs didn't just hollow—it collapsed inward like a sinkhole opening in soft earth after rain. Everything that had been solid, everything he'd built himself on, simply gave way. Something fundamental shifted in his chest— irrevocably—reshaping into architecture he didn't recognize. His hands twitched involuntarily, fingers spreading as if he could physically hold himself together, press his palms against the place where everything was coming undone.But there was nothing to grasp. Nothing to hold. Just the sensation of falling through himself.His stomach lurched with violence, bile rising sharp and acidic, burning tracks up his throat. The lingering sweetness of tea curdled on his tongue, transforming—copper first, the taste of blood that wasn't
*Nicoli*The sound of her laughter reached him before anything else. It cascaded down the corridor like an avalanche of warmth—loud, alive, utterly unstoppable.The kind of laugh that filled every corner it touched, that made stone walls seem less cold just by existing. Nicoli's boots scraped to an abrupt halt against the polished floorboards, the sound sharp as breaking ice in the sudden stillness of his body.Hidi.Even without seeing her, he could paint the scene perfectly. Her head thrown back with abandon, golden bangs scattered across her forehead like wheat in wind, melting snow still clinging to the fur of her cloak like diamonds she hadn't bothered to shake off. Hidi in full form, absolutely in her element— unbothered, transforming any space she occupied into her personal stage, claimed so effortlessly, regardless of when and where. Her voice rang clear as cathedral bells, rich with the kind of genuine amusement most people forgot how to feel past childhood.She was debating







