With the letter clenched in my hand like it was some kind of forbidden artifact, I made my way back to my chambers. The corridors were quiet at this hour, the soft glow of enchanted lanterns casting elongated shadows across the polished marble floor. The palace staff, sensing that my mothers were in a particularly murderous mood, wisely avoided eye contact as I passed.
It was understandable.
Verania had been muttering threats under her breath about Riven for the last twenty minutes, and Sylvithra, though much calmer, had casually mentioned sending spies to monitor his activities.
So yes.
People were keeping their distance.
I reached my chamber doors, pushed them open, and immediately collapsed onto the massive bed in the center of the room. The silk sheets were cool and luxurious, but I barely registered it.
I held the letter up, inspecting it. The parchment was cheap, slightly crumpled at the edges, and the ink had smudged in a few places.
Charming.
But before I read it, I needed a bath.
Standing up, I rang the small silver bell by my bedside. A moment later, my personal maid, Elira, entered with a polite bow.
"Prepare the bath," I ordered.
Elira nodded immediately. "At once, Princess."
She disappeared into the adjacent bathing chamber, and within minutes, I could hear the gentle splash of water as she filled the enormous tub. I stripped off my training clothes, still sticky with sweat from my earlier suffering, and stepped into the bath.
The warm water enveloped me instantly, sinking into my sore muscles like a spell of pure relief. I sighed and slid lower into the tub, closing my eyes.
For a moment, I just existed.
No overbearing mothers. No exhausting training. No ridiculous palace politics. Just me, floating in the water, holding onto a letter that had almost gotten burned on sight.
After several peaceful minutes, I finally decided it was time.
I unfolded the letter.
The handwriting was, to put it nicely, an absolute disaster.
Half the letters were uneven, some words had been scratched out and rewritten, and there was a very questionable ink blot in the bottom corner.
I squinted at it.
Then I started reading.
Hey, Elyzara,
I wasn't going to write you, but some old lady at the orphanage said it's "proper manners" or whatever, so here we are.
The food is still terrible. Worse than I expected. But I've learned if you stare at the kitchen staff long enough, they start giving you extra portions just to make you go away. I highly recommend this tactic.
The other kids here are mostly useless. They think I'm interesting, though, which is nice. I guess being friends with the Imperial Heir makes me important or something.
You should know that I'm alive. For now.
That being said, I don't think your mothers like me.
I mean, I knew they didn't, but I didn't realize they were going to actively try to assassinate me with their eyes every time I'm mentioned. You should really do something about that before I wake up one day and find myself mysteriously poisoned.
Anyway. I look forward to our one weekly meeting where I can confirm I am still a living person.
Without your terrifying mothers, of course.
See you.
• Riven
I laughed.
Actually, I wheezed.
The mental image of Riven staring down the kitchen staff for extra food was too good.
The part about my mothers being a potential threat to his survival? Less funny.
But still.
I had a friend.
A real, actual friend.
Someone who didn't treat me like a future empress. Someone who wasn't trying to manipulate me or earn favor. Someone who had zero hesitation in pointing out how absurd my life was.
I leaned my head against the rim of the tub, smiling.
It felt… nice.
Comfortable.
Like I wasn't just a walking title for once.
After finishing the letter, I climbed out of the bath, dried off, and threw on a loose nightgown. My hair was still damp as I stepped back into my bedroom, stretching lazily.
Time to write back.
I rang the bell again.
Elira returned immediately. "Princess?"
"I need parchment and a quill."
She tilted her head. "A reply for the letter?"
I nodded.
Her lips twitched slightly amusement, maybe? But she said nothing as she fetched the materials. She set them down on the desk near the balcony and waited.
I picked up the quill, dipped it into the ink, and started writing.
To the soon-to-be-dead Riven,
First of all, I cannot believe you bullied the kitchen staff into feeding you more. That is possibly the most ridiculous thing I have ever heard. I approve.
Second, I would like to remind you that my mothers are technically not allowed to kill you. They technically agreed to let you exist under royal protection. However, I will admit their definition of "protection" is deeply flawed.
Do try not to die before our weekly meeting. It would be very inconvenient for me to have to find another friend.
I will visit , as per our agreement. My mothers will probably not be there. But if they are, try not to look like a security threat.
See you soon. Try not to starve to death.
• Elyzara
I stared at the letter.
Perfect.
Elira, still standing patiently at my side, cleared her throat. "Shall I fetch an envelope?"
I handed her the parchment. "Yes. The official kind. I want him to suffer when he sees the royal crest on it."
Elira grinned.
She retrieved an envelope black velvet, lined with silver, embossed with the imperial insignia.
It looked absurdly regal for what was essentially a messy exchange between two kids.
I folded the letter, slid it inside, and pressed the wax seal down with my family's crest.
Elira picked it up carefully. "Shall I have it delivered immediately?"
"Yes. Before my mothers find out and try to censor my response."
She bowed. "Of course, Princess."
As she left the room, I leaned back in my chair, staring at the ceiling.
This whole situation was ridiculous.
I was an imperial heir, the future ruler of Velmoria. My time should have been occupied with diplomacy, strategy, and training.
Instead, I was secretly exchanging letters with a boy who had already resigned himself to death by overprotective mothers.
I smiled to myself.
It was the most fun I'd had in years.