Masuk*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 the opposite side of the desk. She nods in agreement to keep going. There is a clear look of interest in her eyes.
“How wonderful to see you take the initiative to reconcile with me. But don’t be hard on yourself, It’s my fault as much as it is for you.“
Do you mean that? I pause again as my head spins. He is not mad at me?
“Ah-hem.” Aunt Funda clears her throat loudly.
“Your Empress,” Her eyes target the letter.
"Oh, I- yes," Embarrassed, I quickly return to reading.
“I hope that this will also mark a beginning between us. We can become a warm family once more. I have longed to reconnect with you. And it pleases me to see you reach out first. As I can’t help but worry for you. As any father will toward his children.
And, concerning your request to meet your brother, Prince Nicoli-“
I stop to take a breath. I didn’t realize I had been holding it in all this time. But I was. And my heart is pounding- it hits hard on my ribs that it shakes my chest.
What will he say? How will he answer? Would he say no?
I’m not sure if I can read anymore. I don’t trust myself- I’m so anxious.
If he rejects me…
I already feel my chest tighten. I can’t think of a worse thing that could happen. It makes me wish I never wrote at all. Everything was so much easier without this- why did I have to be a fool and write?
But what if he says yes?
“Go on,” Both Maddie and Aunt Funda speak together. The two, finding themselves in sync, regard each other wearily.
It doesn’t look like I have a choice to stop. I see they are waiting for me. Their eyes eat at me and I swallow hard.
Nervously I turn back to the letter.
“- I will make preparations in half a fortnight to accommodate your arrival. You are most welcome in my home as more than an honored guest but as a family.
Until said time, if you have any questions, do not hesitate. I look forward to your following correspondence.
Love your Father,
Alexander Brokenoff, King of Dawny.
P.s. It gladdens me to see you want to meet Nicoli. But I must warn you not to indulge him. I fear he may be getting spoiled by all the maids and his mother already. If you were to dote on him too, I fear it will go to his head.
You'll soon learn for yourself he is quite the little imp.
Farewell until then.”
“He…said yes?” I am slow to believe it. No, it can’t be. I must have read something wrong.
Sure that I have, I re-read it. No, it still looks the same. So I read it a third time. But it’s the same.
How is this possible?
“Oh, Empress! Ana! I’m so happy for you-“ Maddie throws her arms around to hug me. I stiffen but force my shoulders down. The act of hugging is starting to work on me. But it still catches me off guard when she does.
“The King said yes!” Maddie is almost screaming.
“He did…didn’t he,” I feel myself looking down on myself from above. Is any of this real? Even the words feel strange in my mouth.
Could this really happen?
I look back at the letter. I feel it- it’s physical in my hands but I doubt if I still am awake. At any point, the letter will vanish in a puff of smoke. It has to.
This has to be a dream. I can’t see it any other way. It just has to.
But if it is, part of me wishes
I don’t wake up.Just keep sleeping.
*Aunt Funda*
Aunt Funda, meanwhile, watched her niece break into a smile. It made her back stiffen. Her mood had turned for the worst.
This is terrible. She couldn’t push away the growing feeling of dread.
But on the outside, Aunt Funda fixed her features. She appeared collected before making a professional smile.
“Your Empress, “ Aunt Funda began between Maddie’s cheers and Ana’s excitement.
Upon her voice, Ana wiggled free from Maddie's arms. Her smile flattened when she looked at her.
“Yes, Aunt Funda?”
“Do you plan to take up this invitation from the Dawny King?”
Aunt Funda purposely referred to the man as ‘King’ and not Father. She wanted to maintain a distance between such words to prevent the girl from entertaining any other ideas.
Maddie, however, just laughed.
“Of course she is, you a daft thing!” Maddie pulled Ana up from her chair.
“Can’t you see how happy she is?”
“Oh my,” Aunt Funda gasped, then frowned. How dare she speak to her in such a manner. The maid was atrocious.
This maid thinks too highly of herself. Aunt Funda narrowed her eyes to glare. But Maddie ignored her to dance.
"Come here, you!" Maddie laughed and pulled Ana up from her spot.
“Maddie-“ Ana stumbled awkwardly, not understanding what the maid was doing. Her confusion grew as Maddie started singing.
“We’re going to Dawny,” Maddie began to twirl.
“We’re going to see the Prince,”
“Maddie, please-“ Ana tried to protest again, but Maddie only took her for another twirl. The motion brought Ana to outright laugh and smile.
“Maddie-”
Ana started to move with the maid, be it, very stiffly.
"What are you both doing?" Aunt Funda gasped in horror. She twitched as her eyes darted from one to the other. The sheer spectacle that was happening before her was beyond words.
This maid is not just bold, but Ana’s allowing it! Aunt Funda growled
She's being influenced! The line between servant and master had disappeared.
Since when did the maid hold such rapport with her niece? That she could have this much sway? Aunt Funda could see she held a considerable influence on the girl than even her.
It was the worst thing she could find someone else to do. Aunt Funda could not have it. It could jeopardize their entire operations.
I must end this before it goes too far! Aunt Funda vowed.
“Your Empress?” Aunt Funda repeated herself at the ignored question. She could see the girl still being led by the dancing Maddie. But Ana seemed aware enough to become serious once more.
“Prepare my luggage and make travel plans,” Ana spoke clearly before bursting into a shocked cry as she was lifted off the ground.
“We’re going to Dawny,” Maddie repeated and swung Ana about. Ana giggled in motion.
“Maddie, put me down.” Ana breathed between laughs.
“I’m getting dizzy.”
Aunt Funda sneered at the display before her. The sight of them was now beyond unbearable. She could not put up with it anymore.
Staying any longer will only be a waste of my time. Aunt Funda could see.
I have more important things to do than watch this clownery.
“I shall take leave then, your Empress.” Aunt Funda made a curtsey, but Ana was distracted.
She only laughed as Maddie twirled her again. Aunt Funda seemed to have already been forgotten. Aunt Funda dismissed herself from the room.
I’ve never seen my niece in such a way. Aunt Funda dropped her smile in the hall. The scene had shocked her deeply.
To be happy and smiling like some average child? Ana is not how she used to be.
She is changed! The sudden development bothered her. When did this all start?
That maid ... Aunt Funda could only blame. Her nails dug into her clenched fist to cut skin.
That damn human-
“Husband!” Aunt Funda bellowed, setting off down the hall.
"She's at it again." A maid whispered to her partner.
"Just keep your head down." A boy servant whispered. Everyone knew it was best to keep their distance when she was like this.
Where the devil is he? Aunt Funda thought, growing erratic. She paid no attention as she headed toward the wing of the palace.
I need to speak with him. Everything is going wrong.
“Husband!”
For several breaths, Naska did not move. Neither of them did, actually.Both just stood in their places . With the study stinking of blood-wine and cold glass and old paper, more snow drifting past the windows in that soft, relentless way it had been doing all morning, as if the sky had simply decided and would not be argued with. Somewhere beneath the desk, the fallen ledger lay open on its spine, pages bent, accounts exposed to the cold air. And Mykhol stood in the middle of it all, still facing the door his parents had left through. His expression suspended into something unreadable. Something thick and metallic.Naska kept her head bowed. Arm ringing with pain wanting to be soothed. But she did not dare touch it.She just waited until the silence had stretched long enough to become its own kind of instruction. Then she lowered herself carefully to the carpet.Her knees protested when they touched down. The study floor was cold even through her skirts, and the glass had scattered
*Naska*Naska lifted her head once more, looking back to the closed door, as if expecting someone to burst through. Looking for her. Needing her.But then again, she also didn’t expect anyone either. Because she hadn’t been told to wait for her. Actually, she hadn’t been told to do much nowadays. A fact that made her feel even more the fool to stand here now. Waiting here in Lord Charles’s study with her hands folded so tightly her knuckles ached.But orders had become slippery things since that day—passed between servants in whispers, interrupted by bells, rewritten by panic, carried from the throne room to the back corridors in pieces. And now, Her Empress was leaving for Dawny by first light tomorrow. And Lord Mykhol… was to remain behind. Once, there was a time, Naska would have felt happy by the idea. She would have seen it as her chance – have him home. Even pride herself on the fact to have Mykhol all to herself. But that was back then. And this was now.Now snow was fal
*Anastasia*“Ana.”My name pulls me up out of a place with no floor. I blink once , heavy and languidly stupid, only to find myself transported back from wherever I just went. I have been staring out at the tall arched windows of the throne room again. Heavy flakes drift past the glass — unhurried, enormous, each one distinct for a half-second before the next arrives and the next, a steady, relentless fall that has been going on long enough that white is beginning to gather along the outer ledges. Collecting in the grooves of the stonework. Settling on the sills in soft, improbable lines.I do not know how long I have been watching it.Long enough, apparently, for Mykhol to say my name as if it may not have been the first time he did.I blink again and finding the throne room reassembling itself around me back into neat and predictable patterns. Ancient wood beneath me, the pearl-inlaid armrests biting crescents into my palms where my fingers have been clenching without permission.
*Anastasia*For a moment I can do nothing but look on. Her name burrows against the paper like a brand, burning deeper the longer I stare at it, the ink dark and deliberate against pale cream. I cannot look away. Cannot make my eyes move on to whatever waits beyond it.Queen Belinda.There it is. Written so neatly. So deliberately. Every stroke measured, every curl chosen, as if even the front of an envelope were a performance she had rehearsed until it revealed nothing she hadn't decided to give. That poised control reads even here — in the particular elegance of the B, in the precise tail of the d — the way her red lips are always painted to the exact edge of her mouth and no further. No warmth bleeds through. No softness escapes by accident.She would never allow it. Not toward me.But then—Why?My pulse stutters hard enough that I feel it in my throat. A skip, then a surge, then something that settles wrong — too fast, too shallow, as if my body has already understood something
*Anastasia* “And what do we have here?” Mykhol’s voice slips over the courtyard lightly, like a thin layer of ice grown over the stone. Slick and simple, but deadly if not prepared, not cautious. Yet equally as expectant as the very chill around us. He speaks as if nothing were amiss at all. Yet his eyes do not lift. They have yet to look back to me. Because they are still on Nugen. His vermillion eyes roll up and down Nugen, in long slow strokes. Taking stock of it all, every detail. The sight of Nugen still on the ground near the frozen fountain, between guards. His uniform dirtied from the struggle. Blood drying on his lip. Mykhol looks at him with a stillness that feels almost intimate. As if he is drinking the sight in without needing to touch it. His smile remains as it was, never growing wider–but something in him settles at the image the longer he watches. Recognition. And I’m sure Nugen feels it.I see the change in him at once. His whole body goes tighter. I see it i
*Anastasia*For a heartbeat, I cannot feel. Anything. Not the cold.Not the numbness spreading from my fingertips, past my wrists, up into my forearms like water climbing cloth. Not the wind catching at the loose silver strands over my eye, lifting them, letting them fall, lifting them again. No, not even that. Because my mind refuses what my eyes are– What am I even seeing?My gaze catches on details instead. The scrape of his boots against stone. The flash of silver armor. The blood at the corner of his mouth. The way Fulcan's gauntleted hand is twisted into his sleeve.Each little piece. Separate yet…together they make no sense. None of it does.Because this is Admiral Nugen–A scar over one eyebrow.The steady voice that always seems to have an answer before I have finished asking the question. Always there. The only one now who is still left…And he doesn’t belong between guards. Does not belong hanging limp between Sir Philo and Sir Fulcan like a common vagabond hauled in f
*Ana*The wind snarls with a bone-shattering snap, its howl echoing off the marble columns like a wounded beast. It cuts through velvet and wool and fur, no matter how tightly I clutch my reinforced cloak around my shoulders. She is hell-bent to reach into every tender space with vengeance, her ic
*Bruno* The scent of wine and roasted meat turned to ash in Bruno's mouth the moment he saw him.Through the ballroom's towering glass doors, past the writhing mass of silk-draped nobles and their glittering jewelry that caught candlelight like fractured stars, a shadow had fallen across the moonl
*Ana*“Mykhol,” I breathe, still dazed by the sight of him. Joy bubbles up from somewhere deep in my chest, effervescent and overwhelming. "You came!" I laugh—the sound bright and giddy, spilling out before I can contain it—as I take a step forward on unsteady legs. "It was getting so late, I almos
*Ana*"Oh…this isn't good." The words taste like copper on my tongue the moment they leave my lips as I step out. I've made the biggest mistake of all. But it's too late. I'm doomed. The click of the silver-and-glass doors shutting behind me all but confirmed my end. Because the moment they do, th







