Chapter 4

“I don’t know who to trust.” The confession slipped out before Alessia could stop herself.

She stood beside a wide balcony overlooking the palace gardens, her hands gripping the railing as she stared at the sprawling view below. Sunlight caught on the silver leaves of the Lunar Trees—rare plants that shimmered like frost even in daylight.

Behind her, Seraphine frowned. “Princess…?”

Alessia turned her head slightly, meeting Seraphine’s golden eyes. At sixteen, Alessia looked fragile—too pale, too thin from the “recovery” she supposedly endured. But inside, Luna’s memories sharpened her fear into something warmer, fiercer. Not weakness. Not this time.

“I mean it,” Alessia said softly. “Every face I see looks at me like they want something. Or like they want me gone.”

Seraphine stepped closer. At twenty-five, she carried herself with a calm grace, her posture steady even when tension pressed against the palace walls.

“That is the nature of the palace,” she replied gently. “Trust is the rarest currency here.”

“I don’t have anyone,” Alessia whispered.

“Not truly. Not true.” Seraphine placed a hand on her shoulder. “You have me.”

Alessia halted. Something in her chest softened, unexpected warmth spreading under her ribs.

“Why?” she asked quietly. “Why do you care?”

Seraphine’s expression grew distant, almost sad. “Because I served your mother,” she said. “Your birth mother. She was kind to me.”

Alessia’s breath caught. “My… mother?” she whispered.

Seraphine nodded. “Yes. Lady Keren of the First Court. She died when you were only three.”

Something tugged at Alessia’s heart. A memory she didn’t have but wished she did.

“What was she like?” Alessia asked.

“Gentle,” Seraphine said with a faint smile. “Very gentle. Too gentle for this court. She loved you dearly.”

Alessia closed her eyes. “Then why does no one talk about her?”

Seraphine hesitated. “Because the Empress forbade her name from being spoken publicly after her death. She disliked Lady Keren… even while she lived.”

Alessia’s heart tightened.The Empress—Ariadne—was in her late thirties, composed and elegant, a woman carved from discipline and political instinct. But to erase Alessia’s mother’s memory… that wasn’t discipline that was cruelty.

Seraphine continued, voice softer now. “I promised Lady Keren I would protect you.” She bowed her head. “That is why I will always be by your side, Princess.”

Alessia swallowed hard, emotion catching in her throat. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Before Seraphine could respond, the sound of footsteps approached. Maera, the young maid, skidded to a stop near the doorway. At fourteen, she looked even younger—nervous and wide-eyed, clutching a folded cloth to her chest.

“L-Lady Seraphine!” she gasped. “Princess Alessia! The tutors have arrived!”

Seraphine straightened immediately. “Already? They weren’t expected until after noon.”

Maera nodded frantically. “Y-Yes, but Lady Lovette insisted. She said the Princess’s ‘mental clarity’ must be tested immediately.”

Alessia’s stomach dropped. “Mental clarity,” she echoed. “So they think I might be unstable?”

Seraphine’s jaw clenched. “They always suspected such things of you.”

Maera flinched. “S-Should I tell them to wait?”

“No,” Alessia said quietly. “If I avoid them, it’ll make me look worse.”

Seraphine touched her shoulder again. “Then stay close to me. Lady Iovette is a strict evaluator.”

Maera seemed ready to burst into tears just hearing that name. Seraphine led Alessia through the palace halls, past tapestries of ancient battles and carved pillars showing glowing warriors.

Every servant they passed stiffened, bowed too quickly, or avoided eye contact entirely. Alessia’s mind swirled. Sixteen years old, a princess who fell from a cliff and palace that wanted her quiet—or dead.

And a world of Luminous powers she didn’t understand yet.

“I don’t know who to trust,” she whispered again under her breath.

Seraphine glanced at her, eyes softening. “You will learn, Princess. Trust does not come quickly here. But it can be found.” Alessia wished she believed that.

After sometime, they entered a small study hall—one lined with towering shelves packed with scrolls, crystals, and strange metal instruments that glowed faintly blue.

Three people stood inside. Lady Iovette was the first to turn.

“Princess Alessia.” Her voice was clipped, sharp. She was in her early forties, tall and cold like a candle that refused to melt. Her hair was tied so tightly it looked painful. Thin silver lenses sat on her nose. Beside her stood two junior tutors—one a nervous young man around twenty, the other a stern woman of nearly thirty.

Lady Lovette bowed—barely. “We are here,” she said, “to evaluate the state of your cognitive recovery.”

Alessia straightened. “Very well. What do you need me to do?”

Lady Iovette sniffed. “Your attitude is unusually compliant today. Previously, you argued every instruction.”

Alessia stiffened. “I-I apologize if I caused trouble before.”

“Mm.” Lady Lovette waved a thin hand. “Let us begin.”

She gestured to a seat at the center table, covered in scrolls and a blank sheet. Alessia sat.

“Write your full name,” Lady Iovette ordered.

Alessia stopped only briefly. Alessia Keren Endymion. She wrote the letters slowly, making sure she didn’t misspell the identity she now wore.

Lady Iovette hummed. “Spell your middle name.”

“K-E-R-E-N,” Alessia answered.

“And your father’s?”

“Priam Endymion.”

“And your brother’s?”

“Eryx Endymion. He is eighteen years old. ”

Lady Lovette’s eyes narrowed slightly. “You recall ages?”

“I was told,” Alessia said quickly.

“Hm.” Lady Lovette moved on. “State the six Luminous elements.”

Alessia stunned internally. She only knew some from Seraphine: Light, Dark, Fire, Water, Wind, Earth. She recited them calmly.

Lady Iovette nodded. “And your own Luminous class?”

“I was told it is unstable,” Alessia said softly. “I… don’t feel anything.”

Lady Lovette’s lips thinned. “That is concerning.”

The younger tutor stepped forward with a small crystal sphere. It glowed faintly. “Place your hand on the sphere, Princess,” he instructed.

Alessia hesitated. “What does it do?”

“It detects the type and strength of your Luminous core,” he said. “It is harmless unless the user carries extreme instability.”

“Harmless,” Lady Lovette echoed. “Unless you are as fragile as they say.”

Seraphine’s eyes flashed with warning, but Alessia didn’t look away. She remembered hearing that her whole life as Luna. Fragile girl, fragile heart, and fragile voice.

But this body, this power—this destiny—wasn’t fragile. Slowly, she placed her hand atop the crystal.

For one heartbeat, nothing happened. Then—A spark. Soft, warm light flaring inside the sphere.

Lady Lovette leaned forward. “Hmm. A faint Lux response. Expected for your lineage.”

Then, a second spark. Dark, purple-black. Cold, deep energy rumbling inside the sphere. Lady Lovette shot to her feet.

“What—?!” The junior tutors stumbled back.

Seraphine gasped. Maera shrieked. Light and Dark. It was all contained within one core. The sphere vibrated violently, light and shadow twisting inside like a storm.

“Pull your hand back!” Seraphine cried.

Alessia yanked her hand away. The sphere cracked with a loud snap and then it shattered. Crystals burst across the table.

Lady Lovette staggered back, pale. “Im-impossible!”

Seraphine rushed to Alessia, gripping her shoulders. “Princess! Are you hurt?”

Alessia shook her head, stunned. “No,” she whispered.

“I’m fine.” Lady Lovette stared at the pieces of the broken sphere.

“What kind of core…” She gulped and sweated profusely.

“What kind of monster has both Lux and Caligo in her blood?!” Lady Lovette yelled.

Seraphine’s eyes hardened. “Mind your words, Lady Lovette.”

“Hybrid cores do not exist!” Lovette snapped. “Light and Dark annihilate each other! This defies Luminous law!”

She looked at Alessia like she was seeing a myth come alive—and not a pleasant one. “Princess…” Lovette breathed. “What are you?”

Alessia’s pulse thundered in her ears.She didn’t know. She didn’t know anything yet but she felt something deep inside her chest—two forces moving, swirling, growing. Light and shadow. Warmth and cold. Two halves of something greater.

The tutors backed away, eyes full of fear. Maera whispered, trembling, “She’s… glowing.”

Alessia blinked, her hands—they shimmered faintly. Soft silver light pulsed from her right palm. A dark violet glow curled from her left.

Seraphine quickly pulled her hands down. “Princess, breathe.”

Alessia sucked in a sharp breath.The lights faded. Lady Lovette spoke in a strained voice. “We must report this to His Majesty.”

“No!” Alessia blurted out. Everyone stunned. Her heart hammered wildly. “If the Emperor thinks I’m a danger, he’ll lock me away or worse.”

Seraphine stiffened but didn’t deny it. Lady Lovette hesitated. “Protocol demands—”

“Protocol can wait,” Seraphine interrupted. “The Princess’s stability comes first.”

Lady Lovette sputtered. “But—”

Seraphine stepped forward, her voice low, firm. “Say anything to the court before we understand what this is, and you will create panic or riots or both.”

Lovette pressed her lips together. Seraphine turned to Alessia. “Princess,” she said gently. “We will figure this out but you must remain calm.”

Alessia nodded weakly. Her voice trembled. “I—I don’t know who to trust,” she whispered again.

Seraphine squeezed her shoulder. “Then trust the one who promised your mother she would protect you.”

Alessia closed her eyes. For the first time since arriving in this world, she felt something real, not fear nor confusion. However, there was a slight glimmer of hope. It wasn’t much but it was a start.