Masuk*Belinda*Bratha lowered herself into the waiting chair with the slow, deliberate care of someone long accustomed to furniture fearing her. The reinforced frame held firm beneath her weight — not even the faintest groan escaping the hidden iron braces. Belinda allowed herself a small, private measure of satisfaction to that. Every measurement had been her own. Every joint checked twice.She wouldn’t have to replace the head of carpentry any time soon."Forgive me, my dear friend." Bratha settled back against the deep green velvet, the fabric absorbing her bulk without complaint. "I did not mean to keep you waiting."Belinda returned to her own seat, carefully sliding the bulk of her dress to one armrest in a fluid motion that matched her voice. "You hardly did." Bratha did not answer immediately after. Rather, she settled fully into the chair — the rest of her weight easing into the reinforced frame, as though testing that the promise held before trusting it entirely — and for a mom
*Belinda*Belinda had pulled out all the stops for their tea. The table gleamed beneath the tall windows, each piece placed meticulously, enough so, that even the servants seemed reluctant to dare even breathe near it. White porcelain edged in gold caught the fleeting afternoon light, thin and gold-shot where it fell through the glass. Three pots waited over their silver warmers — black tea, a softer pear blend, and the bitter mountain infusion Bratha had once declared the only thing in all of Dawny with any courage in it. Belinda had made a particular point of bringing out that one.She could already picture the smile it would draw — the widening of those blunt white teeth, the peridot eyes lighting with pleasant surprise that Belinda had bothered to remember so small a thing.But it was exactly why Belinda remembered. It was exactly how two women such as themselves had remained friends across so many years.Anything for my dearest friend, after all.The thought settled warm and eas
*Hildenberg*Hidi choked on her own tongue.It suddenly sat too thick between her teeth. Like swallowing honey gone stiff with wax. It clung to every crevice of that warm cavern, filling the space where words should form. All the more making it a struggle of the simplest things. To speak. Think. Even utter a single clean syllable.She staggered to blink a moment, as if slow to restart, as though the very suggestion had knocked something loose in the machinery of her. Her mother. Mama. Would she really—No. No, she would never. That certainty alone restored her confidence enough to melt the waxy blockades from her mouth. Revive her comatose tongue. And suck in enough air to revive her from the shadows of doubt. Leaving her only with firm conviction. “You wouldn’t dare.” Her voice found its footing and began to build, momentum gathering behind it like a great boulder loosed on a snowy slope. "You have no right—"“I have every right to refuse work that is no longer mine.” Hidi’s fa
*Hildenberg*No.The refusal rose in Hidi before her mother had even finished settling the weight of the word between them. No, not this. Not now.She did not want to think about Almony. She did not want to begin to think about the stupid grain houses or the villages or the petitions stacked on a table two winter passes away — not tonight, not with wine souring in her stomach and Nicoli's silence still scraping the inside of her skull and her own reflection hovering ghostlike in the dark glass. There was no room in her for it. She was full to the brim already with the one problem she couldn’t even inch out, let alone slove. And yet, here was an ambush set up in her very room, and her mother wasn’t looking like she was amused or rattling at her. Hidi understood that in the pit of her stomach.No, this was not like any of the other times. Her mother was not sparring anymore. Was not delivering the familiar, worn jabs that had passed between them for years, the ones Hidi knew how to ca
*Hildenberg* Peridot eyes met hers. That very same shade Hidi saw in every mirror — that particular green, cool and clear, the color that had reminded her all her life of exactly where she had come from. How, as a child, Hidi took such delight in it. In finding that matching pair of eyes across a room and watching them find her back.The way they would light when they landed on her, sparkling with a joy that seemed to belong to Hidi, and just Hidi alone, out of anyone else from her brothers or sisters. Something as if there was only one thing in the room that was worth looking at, she was it. Hidi took pride in it. Held onto that look that made her heart swell each time. Making her drop whatever was in her hands at the time, and storm across, arms already open, certain of her welcome. Certain that she would be caught up. Lifted. And held inside broad warm arms, the safest place any person in the world could be.Because she was favored. Loved. The one best liked out of anyone else. A
*Hildenberg*It took everything in her not to just run. Though every part of Hidi wanted to. She wanted more than anything to just break for it, let her legs do what they were built to do, cover ground fast and without apology, and allow herself the dignity of falling apart somewhere no one could catalogue the specifics. To stumble. Gasp. Press her back against some anonymous stretch of stone wall and let out everything that was climbing her throat in hard, ugly increments.But that would not do. Giants, especially royal ones, did not flee down corridors like wounded little girls with crushed flower crowns. Weeping pathetically with tears burning behind their eyes and their hands curled so hard their nails bit crescents into their palms. Queens of Almony did not run.Fiancées of a Prince, soon to be crowned King of Dawny, most definitely did not run. She reminded herself.So Hidi did not run.That left her with only the next best thing.Hidi moved.Her stride widened — great long l
*Ana* “Dear Empress Anastasia of Nochten, Princess of Dawny, my daughter-“ And I have to stop as the word lingers on my lips. He…called me daughter? I feel like the wind is kicked out of me. “Go on,” Maddie chirps, leaning over my shoulder. I find myself looking to Aunt Funda. She stands at th
*Aunt Funda* Aunt Funda could feel all the blood drain from her cheeks as the initial shock transmitted to outright dread. What is the meaning of this? Her mind raced as her eyes again read over the envelope. Somewhere, she hoped that it was her mistake. A trick of the light or her eyes had tur
“Your Majesty,” Johan warned. But King Alexander shooed him off.“I know what you are going to say, but I don’t care.” King Alexander had every right to be happy. And with that, he gave another skip around the room. “Your majesty,” Johan could shake his head, but it was a lost cause. The king wasn
“Have you ever considered taking a pen pal, Ana?” Maddie uses the nickname. It’s a habit of hers when we are alone. “Pen pal?” I repeat. What is she going on about this time? It’s been a month since Maddie started. But it doesn’t feel like much time has passed. Maybe because she makes everything







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