"There's an open casting for a dance performance," Skyro said with a proud grin, his tone playful. "And guess who's the lucky director? Well, I'd choose myself too—who wouldn't, with my skills?" His boast was so ridiculous I couldn't help but laugh.
"So…?" I asked, my curiosity piqued.
"Well, if you want in, I can make it happen," he offered with a wink, the kind that always carried a mischievous glint.
"Wait, really?" I felt excitement bubble up.
"Of course," he said easily.
"But—can I bring Banyu? She's my best friend," I asked, already imagining how much fun it would be to have her by my side.
"Sure," he replied, then smirked. "But you might want to fix your face first—only pretty girls are allowed to perform," he teased with another wink.
"Skyrooo!!" I exclaimed, laughing and swatting at him playfully.
He chuckled. "Yeah, yeah, just kidding. Meet me in front of Dear Dairy tomorrow at ten, alright?"
"Yup!" I replied eagerly. And just like that, Banyu and I were in!
We were over the moon with excitement. We introduced ourselves to the other dancers, diving straight into rehearsals, and it was an absolute blast. Skyro and I grew closer with each passing day, and he became an irreplaceable friend. Of course, I still spent time with Prince Eugene—helping him practice archery and going fishing together. I felt lucky to have them both in my life.
The performance day finally arrived, and nerves twisted in my stomach like a storm.
"Good luck," Prince Eugene said, his voice soft but encouraging as he smiled at me.
"Thanks," I replied, waving at him with a smile, my heart fluttering at the warmth in his gaze. Alas and Estevao would be watching too, along with some of the Aisling villagers.
"…Let us welcome these amazing dancers, Illiora Light," the announcer proclaimed. The audience's applause echoed through the hall, then faded to a reverent hush as the music began. Banyu and I were the first to enter, me from the right, her from the left. My breath was steady as I executed a few cartwheels for our entrance.
I focused on staying present, enjoying the moment, and my nerves eased. The applause that followed our performance was thunderous. They told us we might be invited to perform again at the end of the year. But that felt far away—it was only June, after all.
Later, Skyro and I strolled through a meadow I'd never seen before, a field of vibrant wildflowers that stretched as far as the eye could see.
"So… do you like it?" he asked, glancing at me with a knowing smile.
"Oh my spirits, yes! How did I not know this place existed?" I marveled, enchanted by the sea of blossoms.
He chuckled. "Here, this is lilac," he said, plucking a delicate purple bloom and handing it to me. I inhaled deeply, the fragrance soft and soothing.
"How does it smell?" he asked, watching me intently.
"It's wonderful," I said, still captivated by the flower.
"This one's hyacinth," he added, offering a larger, pink flower. Its scent was even sweeter, intoxicating. "I'm going to plant these someday," I murmured, smiling to myself.
It was autumn when we visited the Red River. The water ran clear, reflecting the fiery hues of the trees—scarlet and amber, a tapestry of flame and gold. Leaves drifted lazily downstream, their delicate spirals marking the passage of time. The air was crisp, filled with the scent of earth and distant woodsmoke.
We traveled quietly in a canoe, the soft dip of the paddles into the river creating gentle ripples. When we reached the lake, we tied the canoe to a wooden gazebo and stepped ashore. Nearby, a small woodland beckoned, its floor carpeted with fallen leaves in brilliant hues of yellow and red.
We wandered deeper into the grove, the only sound the crunch of leaves beneath our feet. Suddenly, Skyro took my hand. His warmth spread through me, so unfamiliar yet comforting. His hand was steady, firm, yet gentle—so different from the only other hand I'd ever held, Alas'.
It felt... different. Intimate.
"Naeva," Skyro murmured, his voice soft, as if afraid to break the fragile moment.
"Yeah?" I whispered, looking up, my heart racing.
He paused, his expression vulnerable. "I know this isn't the best time, but I have to say it. I can't keep it to myself anymore." He exhaled shakily, and his eyes met mine, filled with something raw and unspoken. "Your presence in my life feels like the missing piece of a puzzle I didn't even know I was solving. From the moment I first saw you, there was a connection, one I can't explain. It's indescribable, but it's real."
His words wrapped around me, tender and aching.
"I've tried to deny it, to convince myself it was nothing. But each time I fall deeper, until there's no escape," he continued, his voice thick with emotion. "You are the one for me, Naeva. I promise to follow you wherever you go and protect you from anything that might harm you. I've fallen for you. Deeply, irrevocably. And nothing in this world could change that. Ever."
He took my other hand, holding it with the same quiet reverence, as if it were something precious.
The world blurred, his words echoing in my mind. Fallen for me? What did he mean? I opened my mouth to speak, but then I saw him—Prince Eugene—standing just behind us. He waved, breaking the moment.
"Hey, Naeva," Eugene greeted, his tone light, but his eyes flicked briefly to Skyro before settling on me.
Skyro let go of my hand. The warmth disappeared.
"Uh, hi, Eugene," I said, bowing slightly, my heart still pounding.
"What are you two doing here?" Eugene asked casually, though there was something else beneath his voice—curiosity, perhaps.
"Just... taking a walk," I replied, feeling Skyro's sudden change in mood beside me.
Eugene smiled. "I'll be traveling again soon. This time, it'll be an adventure. Do you want to come with me?" His voice was bright, but there was an undertone of sincerity, almost pleading.
Before I could answer, Skyro stepped forward. "No. She's not going anywhere."
Eugene raised a brow, irritation flashing across his face. "Let her decide, Skyro. You're not her keeper."
I blinked, confused. "Wait—you two know each other?"
"Well, yeah," Eugene said, a hint of exasperation in his voice. "He hasn't told you about—"
"She doesn't need to know," Skyro cut him off, voice cold and sharp. "You can go now."
What don't I need to know?
Eugene ignored Skyro and turned to me. "Come on, Naeva. We'll travel the seven seas together. It'll be just us."
Skyro's voice cut through the air like steel. "She's not going, Eugene."
Eugene sighed. "Naeva, I need to talk to you." He extended a hand, his eyes softer now.
I glanced at Skyro, who looked pained, then back at Eugene. "Just a moment, Sky. I'll be back." Skyro's gaze darkened, but he said nothing as I followed Eugene.
Once we were alone, Eugene took my hand, his grip firm but gentle. "Naeva, please," he began, his voice low, almost trembling. "Come with me. Travel the world by my side. I'll give you everything you've ever wanted. I'll protect you. I'll make you happy, like I always do." His eyes searched mine, desperate.
"But why do you have to travel, Eugene?" I asked, my voice trembling. "Why can't you stay here? So we can see each other every day?"
He smiled sadly. "It's my destiny, Naeva. My feet can't remain on the same path for too long. But you... you could be my constant. Please, Naeva, come with me."
My throat tightened. "When will you come back?"
He shook his head, eyes gleaming with a strange hope. "We wouldn't need to come back. We could travel for the rest of our lives."
"My family... the café... I can't just leave them," I whispered, my heart aching.
He cupped my cheek gently. "Then we'll return. As many times as you need. Just come with me. You are everything I've ever wanted, Naeva. Please, be part of my future. Grow old with me."
Before I could answer, Skyro's voice rang out, harsh and commanding.
"She's not going anywhere, Eugene," he said, stepping between us, his eyes fierce. "She's staying here."
Eugene rolled his eyes, exasperated. "Come on, Naeva, let's—"
Skyro grabbed my hand. "That's an order," he said, his tone deadly serious.
Eugene's eyes softened with resignation. He let go of me, taking a step back. "I'll come back for you, Naeva," he vowed, voice solemn. "Let the skies, the trees, the rivers bear witness—I will return for you. You are the only one I love."
And then, he turned and walked away.
I stood frozen, my mind spinning. Why did Eugene listen to Skyro? Wasn't he a prince? What was I supposed to know? What should Skyro have told me earlier? And why were they so cold to each other? Most importantly, what is love?
"Come on, we need to go. It's late," he said softly, taking my hand and guiding me back to the canoe. His touch was warm, steady, as if it could shield me from the cold and confusion swirling in my mind. I followed in silence, the crisp night air biting at my skin, but his warmth kept the chill at bay.
Some truths are meant to stay hidden... but won't every secret eventually be revealed?
I couldn't keep quiet any longer. "Why did you stop me from leaving?"
He didn't answer right away, his grip tightening ever so slightly. Then, without looking at me, he asked, "Did you really want to go?"
"I don't know," I whispered. "Maybe... yes."
At that, he stopped walking, turning to face me fully. His eyes met mine, brimming with a fierce intensity that made my breath catch. "Because I love you, Naeva," he said, his voice trembling with both passion and conviction. "And I'm not going to let anyone take you away from me. Do you understand?"
I nodded, speechless, lost in the depth of his gaze, the words I love you lingering in the cool night air, wrapping around us like a vow neither of us could break.
We met in the garden the next day. Skyro arrived with another girl by his side. She wore a thick fur dress, her blonde hair cascading loosely over her shoulders. Her expression turned icy as her gaze met mine, and she sneered. What did I do wrong?
"I'll see you later, Marga," Skyro said softly, though I couldn't make out the rest of his words.
I didn't hear much after that. A strange, unsettling feeling struck my chest. Sadness, maybe jealousy—I wasn't sure. Who was she? How did he know her? Why did she seem so close to Skyro? And why did he look... happy with her? Why her? Why not me? But when Skyro greeted me and we started talking, all those uneasy feelings dissolved into a familiar joy. His smile, so effortless, so addictive, filled the void. His laugh chased away the lingering doubts. I wanted to hold onto these moments with him forever, but something about today felt different, strange. What is happening to me?
"Come on, let's go to a café," he suggested, as if sensing my thoughts.
"Mhm," I nodded, but a sudden sneeze escaped me.
"You cold?" he asked, concern flickering in his eyes.
"A little," I admitted.
"Here," he said, shrugging off his coat and draping it over my shoulders without hesitation.
"Eh, eh—what are you doing? You'll get cold. I'm fine," I protested, trying to give it back.
"Just wear it, for me," he insisted, a soft smile tugging at his lips.
"But—"
"Please," he said, gently but firmly. I gave in, letting his warmth envelop me.
We walked into the café and ordered drinks. As the waitress brought our cups, I excused myself to find the restroom. The bathroom had no heater, and the cold bit at my skin. I quickly washed my hands with icy water, shivering, and hurried back to the table where Skyro was waiting. Our drinks were already set, along with a couple of sandwiches. The food tasted wonderful, but just as I was about to tell him that, Skyro slumped forward.
"Naeva..." he murmured weakly, holding his head before collapsing onto the table.
"Sky—Skyro!" I gasped, shaking him frantically. "Wake up! Come on, Sky!" But he didn't move. Panic surged through me.
The murmuring of the crowd around us grew louder until someone shouted, "Food poisoning! She must've poisoned him!"
What?! My mind reeled in shock. I had done no such thing.
The café erupted into chaos. One of the waitresses dashed outside to fetch the guards. Within moments, they stormed in, rushing toward our table. Cold metal cuffs snapped around my wrists.
"I didn't do anything!" I cried, my voice trembling.
The guards ignored my protests, summoning three supposed "witnesses"—two men and a woman—who stepped forward. The crowd parted, whispering as they passed. The words blurred around me, my only coherent thought a desperate plea: Spirits, please save Skyro. I wasn't afraid for myself. I had nothing to hide, but I couldn't bear the thought of losing him.
For the third time, I was taken to the castle. This time, in chains. Skyro was carried toward the main hall, his unconscious form looking frail in the arms of the guards, while I was led down a different, darker path.
The stairs descended into cold shadows. Along the open field, I noticed three small buildings, two stories high, lined up like silent sentinels. As we descended further, the air grew colder. Candles illuminated the long, gloomy hallway where iron bars separated the prisoners. Ragged figures lay inside, some sleeping, others playing cards or murmuring amongst themselves. The women's cells were on the left, the men's on the right. My cell was different—cement walls on all sides, isolated from the others.
I sank into the corner, hugging Skyro's coat around me. Is this really happening? A few hours ago, I was laughing in the snow. Now, I sat in a cold, lonely cell. No… spirits, please no... Alas would be furious. He shouldn't have to bear the shame of being related to a crime suspect.
I tried to calm myself. Skyro never mentioned being allergic to anything, so what caused him to collapse? Was it truly food poisoning? And why poison only him and not me? It didn't add up. Could this be the work of the gang? The witnesses—were they part of the setup?
Tears welled up in my eyes. I'm sorry, Skyro... If we hadn't gone there, you'd be safe. I clutched his coat tighter, its lingering warmth a small comfort.
A clock in the hallway struck six. Time crawled. A guard brought me a plate of fried rice with meat, but I couldn't eat. I pushed it away, hoping tomorrow's meal would be different. The next day, the same dish arrived. Hunger gnawed at me, but I refused to eat the meat.
On the third day, they chained my feet and dragged me to the courtroom. The familiar judge sat on his high chair, as stoic as ever. My heart stopped when Skyro walked in.
Prince Skyro.
I had been talking to a prince all along? My mind spiraled into disbelief. He wore a light blue suit, a simple crown with a blue diamond resting on his head. He was flanked by guards, and we all stood to bow as he entered. I kept my eyes down, unable to meet his gaze.
An older woman, draped in a luxurious fur cape and adorned with an ornate crown, entered next. She must be the Queen Mother. She seated herself in a grand throne overlooking the room.
"Good morning, Your Majesty, Your Highness Queen Mother, and Prince Skyro," the judge began. "We convene today, the 5th of Winter, at 2 o'clock, to discuss the sudden collapse of Prince Skyro on the 3rd of Winter…"
The trial continued, but the words blurred around me. Witnesses stood and gave their testimonies, accusing me with rehearsed lies. The waitress arrived, confirming the false accusations. My heart raced, desperate for a way to prove my innocence.
Then Skyro stood.
"Thank you, Your Highness," he said. "The drinks were already on the table before Naeva left. I remember clearly. She would never harm me."
I felt the weight of his words, but I couldn't let him take the fall. "I'm not his best friend," I interrupted, forcing my voice to remain steady. "We barely know each other."
In the end, the judge declared me guilty. Five years in prison, followed by execution.
No.
I collapsed back into the cold, isolated cell, tears streaming down my face.
Skyro's POV
"Prince Skyro... oh, dear child, were you really manipulated by that peasant?" Grandmother's voice was laced with disdain, her words like barbed arrows aimed to wound.
"She is not a peasant, Grandmother," I replied, my voice trembling with barely contained rage. "She isn't, and I've told you before—I swear on everything I hold sacred—Naeva did not do it. She would never do something like that. Let me prove it—"
"Enough!" Her voice cut through mine like a whip. "Snap back to reality, Sky! Do you even understand what they'll think if you keep defending her? They'll believe you're weak, easily swayed by a girl. A king so blinded by emotion that he's incapable of ruling. Is that what you want? To be seen as unfit?"
"No," I said firmly, fists clenched at my sides. "That's not true. A good king stands for what's right, even when—"
"Even when what?" She sneered, her icy eyes narrowing. "When everyone else turns against him? That's not how the world works, my child."
"But it should be," I countered, my voice rising, heart pounding against my ribs. "Justice isn't a matter of convenience, Grandmother."
She stared at me for a long, cold moment, and then her lips twisted into a cruel smile. "Don't tell me you've fallen in love with that little wretch."
I froze, every muscle in my body taut. "Her name is Naeva," I said through gritted teeth. "And she's not what you say. I'm doing this because it's right, not because of some foolish sentiment. She's innocent, and I won't let them coerce her into revealing some false 'accomplice.' I'll stop it. I have to." My voice softened, but my resolve did not.
I rarely called her by her name—Eora. It was something Prince Eugene did, not me. Not until now.
She sighed, the weariness in her expression betraying the steel in her words. "You've forgotten, haven't you? You can't marry someone who isn't a princess. What do you think your people will say? They'll feel betrayed. Your parents would grieve seeing the kingdom lose faith in the royal family. It's all in your hands, Prince Skyro. You'll lose everything for this girl."
I didn't reply. There was no point. Instead, I turned on my heel and left the room, her words echoing in my mind like a curse.
I stormed out of Eora's presence, my chest heavy with fury and confusion. The walls of the castle seemed to close in around me as I stormed down the hallway, my mind spiraling in chaos. I threw open the door to my room, my hands trembling with the weight of helplessness. The music I played only added to the suffocating silence, an attempt to drown out the fury churning within me. But nothing could settle the storm in my heart.
Naeva was in a prison cell. She was suffering. And here I am, walking freely through the halls of this damned castle, as if nothing was wrong. The injustice of it all burned through me like a fire, searing my insides.
Five years? Five years?
No! I clenched my fists so tightly my nails dug into my palms. She is not going to die in five years. She can't.
Why? Why did she have to take the blame? Why was it her burden to carry? Why did she have to endure all of this pain, when she didn't deserve any of it? My vision blurred, rage mixing with a deep, gnawing sorrow. I could feel my heart breaking with each passing second.
Please, I thought, my eyes shutting tight as if I could will it all away. Please, gods, help me. Help her. Give me the strength to fix this. To make it right.
I loved her. Gods, I loved her. More than I could ever put into words. But the truth hung like a sword above my head. If I tried to save her now, I'd lose everything—my future, my title, everything I had that could keep her safe. And without that, how could I ever protect her?
A painful sob broke free from my throat, but I forced it back down. Why does this feel so wrong? Why does everything feel so hopeless?
Naeva, please… I whispered her name like a prayer. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything. Please trust me. I swear to you, I'll find a way. I'll make your life... our life... a happy one. I promise you that.
I crumpled into the chair by the balcony, my hands clutching the railing like a lifeline. The night air was cold, but it did nothing to soothe the fire burning inside me. Gods, guide me. Please help me find a way to fix this before it's too late.
But the silence only mocked me, a cruel reminder of how powerless I truly was.