LOGIN*Ana*
I hold the little gift box tied in blue ribbon carefully on my lap as the carriage door closes after Maddie. The maid takes a seat and smiles across the cabin.
“And how are we feeling, my little Ana?” Maddie starts.
'My little Ana?'
I feel my cheeks warm at the new nickname. Maddie is being strange, per usual.
“Excited?”
“Yes,” I look out the window. Outside, there is a farewell party. Aunt Funda and Uncle are here. And some servants have joined. I can even make out many faces I see from the court.
It’s nice to see many come to see me off. But they don’t seem too excited. No one is waving or saying goodbye. I get a somber bow before they start heading back inside.
I haven’t even left yet.
I press my tongue to the roof of her mouth but say nothing at the slight insult. Even though I know that it’s not proper to leave before I do. But it’s quickly forgotten as I discover one still remains.
It’s the human with a scar over his brow. Admiral…something I think. He doesn’t talk much in court. But I catch him looking at me from time to time.
He stands alone as if waiting to send me off.
Admiral Nugen. His name becomes clear. I think he’s from the previous Empress’s guard. He worked for my mother.
“And you have your gift,” Maddie looks at the box. It brings me back from the window. I touch the box with tenderness. I feel myself have to smile with some pride.
“I hope Nicoli will like it,”
The toymaker had finished just in time for our departure. I inspected it quickly before putting it in the box and leaving. But maybe I should open the box?
To check.
But then I will mess up the bow. I have to weigh the pros and cons.
The toy should be fine. I console myself. The toy maker had been a man of talent. He would not risk sabotage. Not against the very empress. Right?
Perhaps, I should go ahead and check. Just in case.
“If it’s from you, of course, he will.” Maddie’s confidence stops my fidgety fingers. I leave the bow alone.
“Shall I lay a place for you to rest, your Empress?” Maddie has some pillows and blankets from under the red leather seats.
“I don’t think I could sleep,” I am honest with myself now. I may look calm on the outside, but I can’t stay still. I twitch and kick my feet. There is no way I could rest.
“Well, if you change your mind, just budge me. I’ll be asleep.” Maddie throws up a pillow on her bench before laying down. Her legs stretch to dangle off the side of the seat.
I can’t say I’m not a bit perturbed.
“I don’t think you’re supposed to sleep before your master.” I go, and Maddie laughs and turns on her side.
“Don’t be expecting me to stay awake the whole way. That’s work abuse.”
Maddie is joking, of course. But I still shake my head before leaning back in my seat. She may be able to sleep easily, but I can’t.
Which won’t make the trip easy. Dawny is quite a journey from Nochten. I know it would be better to sleep, but I can’t. This is just too exciting for me. I would never have thought in my long four years in Nochten that I would leave.
I never thought I’d see the day. And I don’t want to miss a minute.
“Uck,” I feel the carriage lurch forward. We are moving. Quick! I turn to gaze out the window.
As the carriage begins to build speed with the crack of the whip, I see the assembly is good and gone. All save for the one man. He watches me with quiet seriousness.
Something heavy weighs down on my chest when I match his eyes. I have to look away.
“Maddie-” But I’m out of luck. Maddie is now asleep.
Drats…
I have nothing else to do but look across to the other side.
Was I expecting something different? I wonder at the heavy feeling. I watch the mountains made of sand move. Outside there are mountains of sand that spread into the horizon.
It makes one feel isolated the longer they stare out. Maybe because it’s so vast and open.
That more would come to see me off? More would have cared if I went?
Maddie would have come. I know. Maddie is the golden exception.
I shouldn't make any more expectations of them, though. I have to correct my way of thinking. At least they showed up to say goodbye.
At the thought, I check on Maddie. Her gray hair is mushed into the pillow as she sleeps with her mouth wide open. It makes her face crunched and distorted that I find myself giggling. But I don’t want to wake her, so I look back out the window. The sun is just rising over the sand dunes. It is early morning and cool.
Morning is the best time to start any journey. Aunt Funda had warned me.
"It'd help alleviate the hottest point of noon. You'll be far away by then and escape the dangerous heat."
And the horses will be spared. I am more concerned for them. The poor beasts- making them ride out in this hot sun is cruel. If there is any way they can be spared, I want to try and help.
But we'll be fine once we reach the mountains bordering Almony. I know. And aside from the horses, leaving this early is not bad.
Because I can see Nocthen in a shade of colors that can only be seen right now. The shadows start in dark blues that will warm up to light purples, then red, and finally yellow.
It’s like a rainbow.
I watch in quiet awe as the sun rises and the day brightens. The heat in the carriage starts to grow hotter, and I have to shift away from the glass window. Less I stayed and received sun poisoning.
Outside the window, I mark the change in scenery. The sand dunes became the rock of mountains. The rock then changes to the soil. Greenery begins to spring up. More trees stand from the ground. After them come the flowers and grass.
Seeing the familiar flora and fauna triggers a faint memory. I’m little and being carried in my father's arms. We are walking through some kind of bush maze.
I remember that his beard scratches my cheek when he turns to talk to me. About what, I can’t remember. But I think it was something nice. It’s not a bad memory.
I wonder if he still has one? A beard, I mean. What if he doesn’t?
What would his face be like, bald? Would it be funny? Like an egg?
“What about you?” I look at how bright it is. Sometime past noon, if I can guess. The heat, though, I can feel is subsiding. There is a forest coming up ahead.
“What will you look like, little brother?”
I’m curious and scratch at the box. My stomach jumps and pops as I want to get up and move. But I can’t. I have to sit here.
I never had a little brother before. I hope I can be a good sister to him.
“Nicoli,” My lips still tingle.
“Mhm, did you say something?” Maddie grumbles, moving to turn on her side and lazily peer up at me.
Your hair... I only admired the work of art that is the woman’s bird nest. I want to laugh so badly.
“No, I…yes, I do, actually. Maddie, I want to thank you.” I manage to hold back the need and focus on what is important.
“For what?” Maddie is still clearly groggy.
“I would never have thought myself going to Dawny. Let alone meet my father and brother. You made this happen.”
“Oh!” Maddie opens her mouth into an ‘o’ shape as if she caught on only now. She lays back on the bench.
“You mean to pester you to no end until you break down?”
I smirk as I press my head back on the seat.
“I suppose…that’s a way to put it, yes.”
“Any time, your Empress.” Maddie goes before I let out a loud yawn.
“Please. Don’t.” It’s cruel and unusual.
Maddie laughs and reaches a lazy hand to pat mine.
“I was joking.”
“Really. Not ever again, alright?” I look at her seriously.
“Cross my heart,” Maddie motions over her chest with a finger. I smile when I see it. Another yawn before I feel my arms grow heavy.
“Well, since I’m up, I might as well tell you what I heard from the kitchen.” Maddie sits up. She kicks her legs in front of her as if to stretch them.
“Maddie-“ I cut myself off with a yawn.
“No, I swear it’s not gossip this time. It is god’s honest truth. I have a reliable source. It was the cooks-friends-friend of the laundry maid who told me that-"
"Maddie!” I have to roll my eyes. How can she do that?
My head lolls on the cushion as I look at her with heavy eyes.
“Ever the unashamed and incorrigible talker” The label does not seem to offend her or stop her.
"So there's this witch, right? Well, she's been trying to bring back her dead lover. And she's doing this again and again. But it just gets screwed up. Each time just makes him more and more animal-like.
So this poor girl just has to kill and start over. But it's a cost, right? She'll lose some of her insides each time."
"Ana? Are you listening?" Maddie stops to check.
"Uh-huh." I nod, but I can’t focus. Her voice is so relaxing to listen to. Maybe a bit too much this time.
My eyelids are growing heavier as Maddie just goes on. It’s like her voice is a lullaby, and I am drifting off.
"So anyway," Is the last thing I remember her saying before I find myself so happy and safe that I slip out. I fell asleep in a place that I didn't think could get any better.
*Bruno*The moment crystallized like a crack through glass before the door even finished settling on its hinges.A razor-sharp click of heels against marble. A blur of movement so swift it sliced the air—a whip of velvet, the striking gleam of gold rings against pale skin, a hand already rising as if it had been waiting for permission all night.Cold wind rushed past, carrying the bite of stale ashen fire pits gone to embers, the sputtering torchlight, and Lady Funda's perfume— a thick gagging cluster of overlayered scents that had burned a hole in some corner of his vulnerable memories. It swallowed him.Bruno’s body tried to move- do what it had been systematically trained for. A mechanical response caved into him by fourteen years of relentless abuses. Hands instinctively rising. Head angling down. Shield the face. Brace for impact constructed from learned helplessness.But this time, his mind was a heartbeat too slow.The slap landed with a sound that seemed to crack the very marb
It was late. Very late. Bruno didn’t need a clock to tell him—he felt the hour etched into the very bones of the palace. The air had transformed into something razor-thin and sharp, as past midnight had carved itself into the very atmosphere. Sound itself seemed reluctant, exhausted, the corridor holding its breath like the walls were living things that had witnessed too many secrets.The moment he slipped out of Ana’s chamber, the warmth was ripped from him.Most torches had surrendered to the night, burning down to fragile, trembling stubs. Those few flames that still clung to life did so weakly—more phantom than light, casting more shadow than comfort. No servants moved through this wing now, no hands to trim wicks or replenish oil. Ana’s corridor was forgotten, ignored, as if like before —save for just hours ago, when servants and nobles stalked marble in wake of a collapsed Empress. The only time it ever seemed to have changed in all his fourteen years.The door clicked shut beh
*Bruno*“Boy,” the voice came out softly. Almost too much so that for a moment Bruno didn’t even register that it was meant for him. No one spoke to him like that. In such a considerate or respectful manner. Not besides his own mom and Ana, that was. Words that weren't barbed and brutal, slurs and vulgarities towards him or Naska, that he'd learned to let slide past like snow falling on stone.So he didn’t answer.He remained rooted where he'd been planted for hours at the edge of Ana’s bed, shoulders squared in a posture that had long ago shed any remnant of childhood—angular, controlled, a shield built from survival. The chamber had quieted down now, stripped of the chaos that had stormed through it hours earlier— no more frantic servants tripping over themselves, no desperate clatter of medical implements, no arguing physicians whose voices scraped like broken glass.Only the fire spoke now.It chewed through seasoned wood with a steady, almost petulant rhythm, as if disappointe
*Mykhol*The heavy wooden door swung shut behind Mykhol with a muffled thud, sealing him into the familiar sanctuary of his private study. He didn’t bother to look about him as he entered–the room knew him the way a hound knew its master—by the scents of aged parchment, rich mahogany, and the faint metallic tang of blood-wine. Warm candlelight danced across the room, casting shifting shadows along the towering bookshelves and transforming the dark rug beneath his boots into a sea of muted patterns. Mykhol strode purposefully across the room, his steps sure and unhurried. Vermillion colored eyes focused straight ahead, he reached for the waiting decanter with a hand that knew every groove and ridge of the cut crystal. The soft clink of glass meeting glass punctuated the heavy silence, a refined sound at odds with the restless energy thrumming beneath his composed mask.As the blood-wine poured in a shimmering crimson ribbon, Mykhol watched the flickering firelight paint sinister glin
*Mykhol*Mykhol could have smiled fully—fangs bared like a wolf over a fresh kill. He could have laughed openly, throwing his head back, golden hoops ringing together like celebration bells as he dissolved into sheer glee. Why, he could have gloated to his heart's content—performed a thousand rehearsed victories from those long, sour years of exile, each one more elaborate than the last.But instead—He did something far more delicious.Mykhol lifted a hand.“Her Empress is being treated,” he said evenly, letting words fall slow and measured, like a blanket smoothed over a shivering body. "It was a simple faint. Too much fatigue."Relief rippled through the crowd in a visible wave—shoulders unknotting, lungs remembering how to expand. A few exhaled as if they'd been holding breath since the crown struck marble. Someone murmured thanks—to gods, saints, anything that would listen.Mykhol simply watched it all, satisfied by how easily a room could be guided with the right tone. Like her
*Mykhol*The room surged with urgency around Mykhol like a tide of incompetence trying to disguise itself as purpose.Servants collided in their desperation to appear useful—or at least avoid appearing useless. Thin-soled slippers skidded on polished marble with the squeal of leather on stone. A basin sloshed, hot water leaping its rim in trembling arcs that caught firelight like liquid amber before splattering. Someone's hip cracked against a side table—a curse bitten back behind fangs—nearly sending a porcelain pitcher to its death. Only caught at the last second with a sharp intake of breath that sounded more prayer for thanks then concern before being swallowed whole.And all the while, in midst of the ramblings, his vermillion gaze remained fixed on the three severe faces surrounding Ana's bed. He watched them as they murmured in rapid-fire consultation, their hushed voices threading through the room like anxious whispers."A cloth—no, cleaner than that. Fresh linen," Sir Eden,
*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,a
*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 flav
*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 fl
*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 sinkh







