LOGIN*Anastasia*But I am severely naive. Naive.It is a title I never would have christened myself with before now—not in private, not even in the most unforgiving corners of my own mind. The word existed but it always belonged to others. To courtiers who underestimate my resolve. To young nobles who believe smiles are loyalty. To Lords who mistake ceremony for security.Not to me.And yet it settles on my tongue with a bitter tang, and something in me shifts at the admission—as if a seam I’ve kept stitched too tight has finally begun to give. The golden links over my forehead answer with the faintest clink, metal whispering against metal as my posture adjusts without my permission. A small sound, sterile and precise, and it feels like proof. One even my crown hears the word.Throughout my life, I have prided myself on what I could earn. Not by blood. Not by supposed beauty. Not the easy inheritance of being adored like my cousin. But something pure and evolving. By acquired knowledge.
*Anastasia*The walk through the hall should not feel this long.It is a distance I have crossed hundreds of times—sometimes alone, sometimes with Admiral Nugen at my shoulder, sometimes with Pendwick trailing a respectful step behind like a steady cornerstone. I know every curve of the stone, every arch and candle sconce, the places where the floor dips slightly, the places where the draft likes to creep along the seams.And yet today, the corridor stretches ahead of me as if it has learned a new shape.Something sharp and bitter with a faint taste of truth mixed with cold judgment.The palace has the same pale marble, the same pointed arches rising at measured intervals, but now they feel like narrowed eyes watching my progress. Candlelight flickers in its sconces and lays unsteady gold across the floor, turning the polished stone into something that seems to jerk when I move. Above, banners hang high and heavy, their ropes creaking softly as the winter draft threads down from the t
*Anastasia*“You must announce your engagement to Sir Pendwick,” Nugen’s words leech out, percise and pleading in the same measure, “or we are going to lose everything altogether.”And as if the words themselves seal us both, Nugen’s mouth closes. He doesn’t reach for my hand again.He simply looks up at me—those pale brown eyes fixed steady, the scar at his brow drawn tight—waiting.Not for my understanding.For an answer. Mine. For a moment, I don’t understand the language. The sentence reaches me, yes, but it doesn’t belong to anything in my body—like sound heard underwater, muffled and distorted. I stare at his closed lips, ringed around the last word, and the world tilts. Shifting under my feet like sand that cannot be physically correct. The fire pops behind him, a small, ordinary sound, and the candle flames shiver as if they’ve been startled, too. Somewhere near the window, winter wind worries the panes with a low howl, the glass faintly rattling in its frame. Snow is hea
*Anastasia*The first thing I notice is the weight. Not soley on my chest—though it does sit there like a hand pressed flat, patient and insistent—but behind my eyes, too: a pulsing ache that blooms with every heartbeat, as if something inside my skull is trying to push outward. My throat feels wrong, scraped dry, each breath a shallow drag over sand.And then there is something else, wrapping around everything more vividly than pain.Silence.It is so quiet that for a moment I think I am displaced, still drifting somewhere. The stillness has shape. It fills the air. It presses against my ears until I can hear my own pulse and the faint, soft rasp of my breath.It’s so quiet. Why is it so quiet? It makes no sense. It makes my skin prickle with unease.Everything should still be chaotic—people shouting, arguing over one another, the court swelling with noise like a storm trapped in stone. The courtroom—The courtroom. That’s right. It is the last thing I remember.The thought hits lik
*Pendwick*Pendwick did not realize he had stopped breathing until his lungs began to burn. The parlor—so recently too large, too curated, too smug in its velvet comfort—seemed to narrow on a hinge, collapsing into only three bodies and the space between them. Even the furnishings felt like they had stepped back: the coffee service cooling on its warmer, the sugared sweets sitting untouched beneath their glass domes, the gilt frames on the walls holding their painted serenity like a lie.And Mykhol… Lord Mykhol took up the most space of all.He stood where the door had admitted him, perfectly erect, as if the room had been built to accommodate his posture, his very presence. The latch clicked softly behind him like an afterthought of a sound—yet it carried the finality of a sealed vault. Winter clung to him in a thin draft that slid across the rug, cold crawling around Pendwick’s ankles, while the hearth’s heat continued to breathe at Pendwick’s back. It felt absurdly like the air it
*Pendwick*“Will you sit down already?” Sir Celbest’s voice boomed, crackling out like lightning across the decadent parlor. The words ricocheted off velvet drapes and gilt-framed landscapes, across the table laid with untouched coffee, across the pale gleam of porcelain that had long since stopped steaming. It was the kind of command far too familiar now, only meant to make him shrink without thinking.And for a split moment, Pendwick almost obeyed. His body flinched on instinct. Moving already before his mind could. His heel began to pivot; his shoulders drew in, making him smaller, less noticeable. Even his lips parted, as if ready to apologize, like many countless times before. Sorry. Yes, sir. Of course. I didn’t mean— The old reflex rose so quickly that it was almost comforting in its predictability to appease. Correct himself. Do better. Do what everyone else wanted.Yet, something sharper cut through it.Not courage—he wouldn’t lie to himself and call it that. Rather, it w
Chapter 86 The Aftermath*King Alexander*“Ha,” King Alexander dropped the quill altogether. It was pointless. He couldn’t focus. He couldn’t for the past few days. His mind kept wandering off to think. Ana’s going to miss the whole thing. Today was the last day for the circus. But Ana still did not
Chapter 85 Downpour(reviewed & edited 6/2/24)*Nicoli*“Smile, Your Highness.” Another clown danced and honked his nose at the boy. But Nicoli only stared back quietly. His blue eyes looked bored, and the clown sighed.“Happy birthday, your majesty.” The clown gave up and bowed out. Nicoli saw him walk
*King Alexander?*Damn it. King Alexander never felt an urge to scream more than now. But he couldn't; he could only stand by as his wife sentenced a child’s pet to death.“No!” Ana, meanwhile, cried out. “Please, you can’t.” her hands clenched for the air, but Mykhol held her back. “Ana-” The teen ma
Chapter 82 Mute*ANA*“Why is my cat here?” I can’t stop myself from looking back. What compensation? I am confused. And the kitten only makes me feel lost. What is he doing here? When I left, he was in my room. He looked so warm and happy there. But now, the kitten seems anything but happy.“Cousin?”







