Mag-log in*Ana*
When the carriage enters the town, we start to slow. The wheels clack and wobble as they cross the cobble roads. Our journey is finally coming to an end.
The Dawny castle should be just ahead. My heart jumps up my throat, and I swing to the window to peer out.
“About time,” Maddie relaxes.
"It'll be great to get out of the carriage for a while."
"Mmn," I can barely answer. I’m so distracted by the window and what I see- the streets and buildings are so different from Nochten. Everyone uses brick and wood here.
Although it’s not that late in the day, I find the sun ready to set. The days are short here.
Dawny’s Autumn is much different than Nochten’s. I catch sight of a colored leaf. It drops and catches into the air. I watch it fly over.
I pull my hands under my pits and shiver.
"I don't remember it being this cold."
"Is it always like this?"
Maddie moves a blanket over me. I pull it up over my chest. I am instantly grateful that she brought them.
"You're just used to the heat," Maddie replies knowingly.
"It's been some time since you've been back."
"Oh...I guess so...." But now I see something ahead. It’s growing in the distance- and it’s tall.
“I think I see the castle,” I lean into the window. A chill seeps through the glass and hits my face.
“Do you think...anyone will be waiting for me?
“What a silly thought,” Maddie laughs.
“Is it that funny?” My heart drops.
“I joke. Of course, they are. You wait and see. Everyone will come. You will have the biggest welcome.” Maddie smiles at me. But I’m not sure if I can’t take her word seriously.
Sure enough, Maddie is right, though.There is a procession even from this distance. It’s considerably larger than what I had in Nochten. And it only becomes more evident as we crawl closer. We are just shy of the actual entrance of the castle, and I’m already in awe.
So many people are here.
I see servants in black and white dresses. The nobles are dressed in what looks like rich and puffy outfits. They follow the carriage and roll in with their eyes.
Past them, I find the grand stairs. Atop, I see a woman standing alone. I already know who she is from her stark black hair and her smile. It’s Stepmother. And she wears an immaculate dress of large white puffs and blue velvet bows. Her cape cascades down the steps as her gold crown shines in the setting sun's rays.
But I only see her. I don’t see anyone around her. Are they standing back a bit?
They're waiting for me. The thought made my heart skip.
“Are all these people…for me?” I ask as the carriage comes to a halt. The coachman jumps to open the door.
A cool autumn breeze sneaks through the cabin to have me shiver again.
“What do you think?” Maddie chirps. I look back to the crowd. They are smiling. I feel it set me back.
I’m not used to this.
“But…but why?”
“Because you’re the King’s daughter,” Maddie answers simply.
“Your Empress,” The red-haired coachman holds out his hand. He is not unfriendly, but I feel his hand stiffen with my touch. He doesn’t speak as I step down. Maddie follows behind me.
As soon as I am firmly on the ground, the coach wastes no more time. He and the rest of my traveling party drive off toward the stables. I remain with Maddie at the end of the path as we watch them go.
They seem to be in quite a rush. That is my only thought. I assume they are tired from their journey. And the horses need their rest. It’s that, or they don’t like being here.
But I don’t get to dwell on it as a sweet cry breaks the air.
“Welcome, Empress Anastasia, to Dawny!” The nearby servants cheer and bow in their uniforms all at once.
“Welcome to our kingdom,”
“Ah!” I nearly jumped at the sudden noise. I hobble closer to Maddie to grab her skirt.
‘You’re doing fine,’ Maddie mouths with a gentle push to my back. I swallow down my nervousness.
If you say so. I take a shaky breath. Again, I feel a nudge on my back. She means for me to move.
I venture to shaky steps forward before I hear another cry.
“Your Empress,” The Nobels bow their heads. I see the men dressed in silks and furs as the women curtsy in their puffed dresses.
“Empress Anastasia,”
I blink back at them with shock. I did not expect any kind of welcome such as this. If anything, I’d expected the opposite.
They aren’t scowling or staring at my hair. That may be the biggest shock for me. Everyone's expressions are not disdainful. They look genuinely friendly.
I am not prepared for this at all.
But seeing it gives me some courage. It’s not like back home. I feel like I might actually be welcomed- as I belong.
Still feeling this new courage, I can lift my head and step faster. I make an attempt to look at the stage more thoroughly because I want to see them.
I want to see my father and brother- I actually want to see my stepmother.
It’s an overwhelming sensation that makes my heart skip.
I’m really back in Dawny.
My excitement slows as I come closer. Because I can see something I couldn’t see from below. And when I start to ascend, I become certain of it.
There is only one person standing at the top. She holds her head high as a smile stretches over her soft features. Her gray eyes beam down at me with full attention.
“Greetings, Mother.” I greet first. Maddie stops just shy of stepping up. I feel her warm hands let go with a slight rush of panic. But I hide my unease.
I only dart my eyes around the platform. I don’t see them at all. Are they inside?
Queen Belinda slightly twitches her mouth. But her pleasant features return.
“Empress Anastasia, I welcome you to Dawny. I hope your trip was pleasant.” Belinda emphasizes my title strongly.
She curtsies, and I mirror the same. But I am losing my confidence as I stand here. Why is it only Stepmother?
“Is father inside?”
Queen Belinda tightens her smile.
“The King had to step away to deal with a revolt in one of the villages. So I am to entertain you until his return. Hopefully, it won’t take long.” She explains without a rise in her voice.
I can only nod.
“I see.”
A king needs to take care of such things. I try not to be disappointed. I have to be understanding.
So what about him?
“And brother Nicoli?” I inquire.
“Where is he?”
Belinda’s eye twitches at the question. But she is back to another sweet expression.
“I had hoped to meet him. I have a-“
"Empress Anastasia." Belinda moves swiftly to catch my arm in the loop of hers. I feel almost dragged up because she is so tall. But she leans lower to make up the difference.
Her hand pats mine before resting over it.
“Prince Nicoli has caught a fever and is resting.” Queen Belinda pouts as if saddened by the news.
I feel crushed by the news.
A fever? Is he going to be okay? A sudden well of concern comes over me. It feels like I drank too much water.
But I must be easy to read as she gives me another pat.
“Not to worry. It’s but a mild one. Children often get them. He needs a strict bedrest.” Her voice is calm, and I feel myself having to relax.
With that, we walk toward the castle. But it isn’t a smooth transition. My legs are short, and I struggle to keep in step. It would be fine if she let go, but she pulled me closer when I shifted my arm.
She beams a smile down at me, and I feel trapped. I have to try to put up with it.
Ahead, the castle doors open. Inside is the foyer with the chandelier. I instantly recall the dread I’ve had about it.
It still hangs like a ghost that haunts a house. I have to frown. I’ve never liked that chunk of crystal.I get nervous whenever I look at it. Especially when I see it start to swing, it looks so heavy up there and wants to fall.
I was always scared it would fall on me. I still am. The fear is not gone.
“I hope brother Nicoli will be better soon,” I try to ignore the swing death rock.
Behind me, I feel Maddie. She’s picking up my skirt. I check on her to see her beam a smile back. It’s much warmer than Stepmothers.
Queen Belinda frowns at something. She mutters under her breath.
“Nasty habit.”
“What is?” I ask, looking around. Was someone doing something?
“Ah, your ears. I forgot.” Queen Belinda laughs softly.
I feel her slightly grip my hand with her nails. It doesn’t hurt, but I can’t help but want to pull myself away. That doesn’t seem like an option, though.
“Have you ever had tea, Empress Anastasia?” Queen Belinda carries on.
“No, we don’t drink tea in Nochten,” We have coffee sent in from the colonies.
Queen Belinda smirks for some reason. I feel her long nails graze my skin a bit more. It still doesn’t hurt, but I feel myself shiver.
“Then I think it best to have a taste. I shall have something set up for you.” Queen Belinda coos with a knowing smile.
“We'll have a nice, private tea. Just for us."
"For us?” I look behind me at Maddie. She is smiling, but her eyebrows are starting to bunch up.
“We can catch up.” Queen Belinda carries on.
“Ah,” I nod. It sounds reasonable.
“Then let’s do that.”
“I am so glad.” Queen Belinda curls her lips into a new kind of smile. It’s kinda sharp looking.
How odd. I think, but toss the thought aside.
*Nicoli*
As they walked on, a pair of blue eyes peeked down from between the banister above. The boy was in awe of the girl’s silver hair. It was like nothing he had seen before.
So, of course, he had to consider the owner with more care. The first thing he could note was how much smaller she was. And she looked frail with her thin arms and legs.
I thought she was supposed to be older. Nicoli thought and touched his head to measure.
She’s no bigger than me-“Your majesty, there you are!” One young blond maid harshly whispered upon spotting the stole away at the stairs.
“You are supposed to be in bed!” The maid cried and went to help the boy up.
“What are you thinking just to sneak out? If the queen finds you out here, there goes my head,”
“I only wanted to see her,” Nicoli replied and took her hand. He pouted with a trained cast down of his eyes. It had the result he wanted. The young blond cooed before furrowing with guilt.
“Aye, you are just curious.” The maid went and threw a glimpse to catch the supposed guest.
Sure enough, she could see the telltale mark of her silver hair.No wonder he was curious. Anyone would be.
“The great failure of Dawny.” was what Queen Belinda’s maids referred to her as.
But the maid couldn’t see such a thing. She thought the girl looked quite the opposite.“She’s much prettier than I thought she’d be. Ain't she?”
Nicoli nodded in silent observance. His blue eyes seemed to be glued to the girl who was walking with his mother. They disappeared around a corner.
“But we can’t stay here, your majesty.” The maid again remembered herself.
“It's the queen's orders. So now, let's get back before she finds out, okay?” The maid gently squeezed his hand, and they began to walk.
“Okay,” Nicoli chirped with a practiced smile that made the girl coo again.
“Such a sweet child.” The maid couldn’t think of any child more perfectly willed.
While the maid turned back to look ahead, Nicoli took his chance. He swiftly lifted the skeleton key from the servant's pocket and shoved it into his sleeve.
*Anastasia*“Unforgive—” The word catches on my tongue, thin, startled, as if my mouth rejects it on instinct. Not because I don’t know the word—of course I do—but because why on earth would he say—He says unforgivable like it’s a verdict.The absurdity of it lands instantaneously. Not because it’s funny or anything, but because that is just impossible.The light shifts overhead.Clouds are churning, swallowing up the pockets of light before spitting them back out in flat, brittle flashes that don’t warm anything. Bruised slate stacked on slate, sagging lower by the minute, pressing the sky down until even the garden feels cramped beneath it. Already turning the pale day sour, both too bright in one moment, and then too dim at once, as if mocking the way the sun is still above, but smothered in wool.And all the while, the air keeps scratching the inside of my throat with that strange charge. As if it was protesting for rain. But it doesn't feel right.It just pricks at my skin. My
*Anastasia* “Why are you running from me?” My words hang over the air, too loud to be just a simple question, because it feels too alive, twisting with so much more felt than said in the plainness of it, before slowly fading into thin shapes back into the bare bushes and trellises. For a moment, neither of us speaks.Only our breathing fills the space between us.His comes fast but controlled, like he’s already actively forcing it down in preparation. Like he may have already decided where he’ll bolt if given another chance. Like his eyes are already seeking new routes of escapes. Cracks to fall through. Stay out of reach like a whisper of smoke. Bruno feels like a spring, coiled tight and ready to vault once again, while I…I don’t think I can. Because I’m still breathing ragged, uneven like little torn sounds drag out of a body that was not made for sprinting. My lungs burn right now as if I’ve swallowed the torches from inside the corridors. Decorating the air with hot puffs o
*Anastasia*“Papa…” I breathe, the word so soft it barely disturbs the fog on the glass. “Is this you?”It feels too long since I saw sapphire eyes look after me like the world couldn’t tame that stubborn gentleness that believed in me. That I could do anything. Like my ideas were not foolish just because they were mine. Like my wanting to be better—better than blood, better than tradition, better than what they expect of a woman and a half—wasn’t some childish fantasy to be corrected.He always believed in me. That I could rule at all.And it has been too long since I last received anything that felt like him. Not a report. Not a request. Not another clipped summary of someone else’s suffering. Something warm. Something like home.I want to hear from him. I want to hear from Johan, too. I want a letter that isn’t returned unopened, isn’t swallowed by distance, and isn't lost to silence like so many prayers flung into the wind.My mind betrays me with images I shouldn’t tempt myself
*Anastasia*I barely notice my skirt whispering against the stone as I push forward. A bit too fast to be dignified, but too intent on putting distance between myself and that room. The domed chamber falls away behind my shoulders in a blur of gold and turquoise, torches and marble and watching mouths. The doors shut somewhere behind me, heavy, final.But the warmth doesn’t follow. The fire pits can crackle and pop all they like in there, so bright and careless, pretending at comfort. But out here the corridor is immediately colder, and it feels personal. As if the chill seeps through the seams of my very slippers like an unwavering judgement at everything I do. Relentlessly quiet, efficient, and straight to bone.I keep moving anyway. Press faster. Not that it changes the feeling.Because I can still feel it. The lingering gaze of both trailing after me till the very last turn. Pale brown and vermillion both. Admiral Nugen’s steady weight. The opposite to Mykhol’s…something else. So
Nugen didn’t slow.Winter slammed into him. The dry, biting air went straight for the soft places. It clawed at his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, stole the warmth from his breath the instant it left his mouth. His lungs seized around the cold, and for a heartbeat the air tasted almost familar—thin, metallic, almost electrical, the sharp scent that came before weather changed. Like the sky was deciding whether it wanted to break.But he didn’t have time to ponder if that meant more rain or something. It didn’t matter right now if it did or not.Outside, the walkway stretched bleached and brittle under the dim winter light. The fountain stood in its familiar place, near the center of the walkway. Gurgling mass should have been loud, alive—but it was caught in silence now. Iced over from the unusually frigid temperatures for Nochten. The water froze mid-spill, ice glazed over carved stone like glass set wrong. It made the familiar landmark unnatural. Again, warning that this winter
*Admiral Nugen* Nugen watched Anastasia go. Watched as the vast white hall swallowed her fleeting figure quickly. Only the flash of her red shawl remained against his vision. The streak of crimson trailed behind her, lifted once behind her as a flag caught by a one final, dry breath of winter air before it fell and vanished through the archway.He watched on until even the memory of red finally faded like a dying ember in the bitter winter morn.Only then could he allow himself to stop.Not because he wasn’t afraid for her out there. He still was, more than ever now. But that was just another worry he would have to deal with.But for right now, Ana was beyond the threshold, likely to return to where her study, or rooms, or wherever else that was better than here. Because anywhere, anything, was going to be better. If it meant she was beyond his reach. Good.A bare sigh slipped from him, thin as smoke.She’s safe, he told himself. Safe.For now…But already, the words tasted like sa
*Ana*That was awful of me.The thoughts sits weighted on my tongue as the quiet in the east wing sits like silk over stone—soft, but weighted. I exhale, the sound barely louder than the ticking of the gilded clock nestled on the mantle across from me. Firelight bathes the sitting room in amber war
*Nicoli*“Mind if I cut in?” It wasn’t a question. A hand landed on Nicoli's shoulder—firm, warm, deliberate. The grip radiated heat through the silk of his doublet, steady as an anchor but weighted with unmistakable authority. It wasn't aggressive, but there was something in that touch that halte
*Nicoli*The scent of pine and spiced wine clung thick in the air, mingling with the ghostly smoke from braziers and the rustle of silk as nobles swept past in their elaborate gowns. Nicoli slipped between a veiled woman and her partner, her jewelry chiming softly as she turned. "Pardon me," he mu
*Ana*The fire cracks with a violent snap, splitting the silence like bone breaking. Wood collapses in on itself behind me, sending a constellation of sparks spiraling upward into the smoky darkness. For one searing moment, the nearest hearth blazes too bright—casting liquid gold across the marble







