"Look at us in the eye, Thya," the Queen's voice rang out, calm but commanding, catching me entirely off guard. It wasn't the kind of calm that brought comfort; no, it was unnerving, sharp, and heavy with unspoken weight. It was the calm that promised storms. That name, Thya, coming from her lips, made my heart skip a beat—a painful, irregular thud that sent a shiver through my body. The last time anyone had called me that was Avy. Hearing it now, from her of all people, felt like a dagger piercing through layers of carefully constructed defenses.
I could feel the edges of my composure fraying, but I clenched my fists tightly by my sides, forcing myself to remain still. I wouldn't falter—not here, not now. Slowly, deliberately, I did as she commanded, raising my head and meeting her gaze. My jaw tightened, and I bit the inside of my cheek hard enough to taste blood, anything to keep the torrent of emotions churning inside me buried where they belonged.
"It's been five years since we last saw you, child," the King said, his tone deceptively gentle, almost fatherly. But the false kindness did nothing to soothe the tremble that threatened to betray me. Each word he spoke lingered in the air, heavy and suffocating, pressing down on me with the weight of those five years. Memories I had worked so hard to suppress threatened to surface. My hands curled into fists so tightly that my nails dug into my palms, sharp and grounding, but I forced myself not to flinch. I wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing my discomfort.
"How old are you now, Thya? Nineteen?" he asked, his words cutting through the thick silence. There was an air of scrutiny in his tone, as though he were dissecting me with each syllable.
I nodded stiffly, my voice quiet and restrained as I replied, "Yes, Your Majesty. I turned nineteen a month ago."
"Indeed," he murmured, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied me. It felt as though he was searching for something, for some crack in my façade, some hidden truth I wasn't ready to reveal. "Your birthday is on the seventh day of the sixth month of the year, is it not?"
I forced myself to meet the Queen's unyielding gaze. It was the same gaze that had always unsettled me, cold and calculating, reflecting her sharp intellect and unshakable authority. "That's correct, Your Majesty," I said, my voice steady but devoid of warmth.
Her tone remained calm, but there was an unmistakable edge to it, a subtle but sharp demand that sent a chill down my spine. "Why are you without your blindfold, Thya?" she asked, her words deliberate, laced with an accusation that made my stomach knot.
I swallowed hard, the weight of her question settling over me like a shroud. "I got tired of using it, Your Majesty," I said after a moment, forcing my voice to remain steady even as my throat tightened. "I want to see the world with my eyes while I still…" My words faltered, catching in my throat. I bit my tongue, reigning in the flood of emotions threatening to escape. "I mean, I want to see everything that I couldn't all those years. I'm tired of being afraid of what I'm going to see. Death comes to everybody, and there's nothing we can do about it. It's not like I'll cause someone's death with my eyes; I'm just going to see it."
The room fell into a suffocating silence, the weight of my words hanging heavy between us. I felt the Queen's eyes boring into me, unyielding and relentless.
"Although most people don't seem to understand that," I continued, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to keep it steady. The words spilled out before I could stop them, each one laced with frustration and defiance. "Or rather, they don't want to. And that's okay—I don't mind people blaming me for it. Not anymore. I just won't stand being accused of something I didn't do, like killing someone." My voice cracked, and I closed my eyes briefly, feeling the sting of unshed tears. I hated this. I hated the vulnerability clawing its way to the surface. "Especially because I didn't want to see them dying either."
The admission hung in the air, raw and heavy. My chest tightened as I struggled to breathe past the lump in my throat. My eyes burned, and I closed them again, this time fighting back tears with everything I had. I couldn't cry—not here, not now, not in front of them.
"Open your eyes, Thya," the King's voice broke through the silence, calm and steady, yet carrying an unspoken command that was impossible to ignore.
Biting my bottom lip hard enough to draw blood, I slowly obeyed. My eyes opened, and I met his unflinching gaze head-on.
"What do you feel?" he asked, his tone deceptively mild, though the weight of his expectation was palpable.
"Anger, Your Majesty," I replied, my voice low but steady. It wasn't the answer he wanted, but it was the truth, and I wouldn't deny it.
The Queen tilted her head slightly, studying me with an intensity that made my skin crawl. "What do you want to ask us, Thya?" she asked, her voice softer now, though no less commanding. "Be straightforward, as you've always been, child."
The words I had rehearsed for months suddenly felt like lead in my throat, heavy and impossible to voice. I hesitated, the weight of the moment pressing down on me like a vice. Finally, I straightened my posture, squaring my shoulders and forcing the words out. "I am here to ask you to take my title away from me and to make me a commoner instead of letting me stay as a noble," I said, each word deliberate, each one a calculated risk.
Their reactions were subtle but telling. A flicker of surprise crossed their faces, gone as quickly as it appeared. By the looks in their eyes, it was clear they hadn't expected this.
"And to cancel my place in the Crown Princess Trials," I added, my voice firmer now despite the storm raging inside me. "Because I don't want anything to do with that."
The silence that followed was deafening, the weight of my words hanging heavy in the air. The room seemed colder, the tension thick enough to choke on. My request wasn't just a plea—it was a challenge, daring them to refuse me.
This way, I could leave the Maximillian Kingdom for good. I could disappear into one of the United Kingdoms, probably the Uzuri Kingdom. It was the farthest from here—both geographically and politically—and also the largest. It would be easier to vanish there, to lose myself in the chaos of its sprawling cities and untamed wilderness. If I could avoid the Trials, maybe I could have just one more year, one more chance to live on my own terms.
I felt his presence before I heard his voice, the air shifting with a subtle but undeniable force.
"Who would have thought," he began, his tone smooth and mocking, each word dripping with disdain, "that you would be so afraid of facing me, to the point of going through such lengths to avoid staying close to me during the Trials."
His voice came from behind me, and though I couldn't see him, I could feel the weight of his words pressing against my back. My fists clenched at my sides, nails digging into my palms as I resisted the overwhelming urge to turn around.
If I turned—if I looked him in the eye—the Queen and the King would kill me. They might be pretending to tolerate my presence now, playing their roles with careful precision, but I wasn't naive. I knew the truth. I knew they hated me. Not just for being here, not just for defying them, but for something far worse.
They hated me for not telling them about their daughter's condition.