"My Lady, we must leave."

The Princess was pacing back and forth, hand firmly resting on her chin.

"Will Lucian be attending?"

The lady-in-waiting looked down, fiddling with her fingers. "I have not heard from Riven yet, my Lady."

At last, Mira stopped, standing tall in front of the golden-rimmed mirror. Ever since her encounter with Lucian in front of his carriage, she had felt a sinister sensation rising in her chest. She knew she was not mistaken: someone was with her brother that day, she just did not know who yet.

Lucian had never been one to keep secrets from her. Through the years, he had grown more distant, engulfed in his own royal duties and lessons, but there had always been a silent understanding between them, one ensuring that they both could rely on each other in times of need. She had seen him at his worst, and so had he.

And yet, he had lied to her face. He likely had his own reasons for doing so, but that could only mean one thing: that knowing such a secret would have put her in a dangerous position. And as much as she trusted her brother, she was well aware of the emotions he had been holding onto for years—and of how vicious the repercussions for falling out of line in the Palace could be.

She turned to look at Thalia, who was staring at her with concern painted all across her face.

"Is something wrong, my Lady?"

Mira relaxed, smiling ever so slightly as she took a step toward her, hand reaching forward to push a rogue strand of hair behind her ear.

Her fingers lingered, a breath away from her cheek, enough for Thalia to feel their warmth on her skin. She almost let herself indulge in it, leaning closer to them, before coming back to her senses.

"Mira!" she whispered, eyes wide open as she scanned the room. "A maid could enter at any moment!"

The Princess chuckled, the way her lady-in-waiting so boldly called her name in their few moments of true privacy easing her worries.

"Apologies, I just could not resist."

Thalia sighed, straightening her robe to regain some composure. "Please, my Lady, let us go. You will anger the King if you are late again."

"Fine, but only because you are the one asking." Mira winked at her, heading toward the door of her chambers.

They walked together across the Palace, each servant bowing at their sight, and Mira couldn't help the thoughts of her brother from rushing back to her.

As the entrance of the dining hall grew closer and closer, she slowed her step, until they were both standing next to each other. Each Sunday, the royal family would break their fast together, an occasion that the King held dear to his heart—from everyone outside of the bloodline, it had always seemed like a gesture meant to strengthen their bond. But she knew what it truly was: a way for their Father to monitor them, to assess if they were staying true to their duties, and to be informed of any noteworthy situations arising in the kingdom.

She had always hated it. Each and every time, it would feel like a trial. For most of her youth, she had proven herself successful; she was always the most clever one out of her siblings, the one that would always excel at any training or lesson. That is, until her Father's attention had begun to shift more and more toward her brothers, his mind growing restless with the wish for an heir. Of course, he hoped for all four of them to provide one, to maintain their lineage strong and pure, but there was no denying that his preference had quickly fallen onto one of them: Lucian. She had begun to resent him for it, until she had learned the true weight of it.

And then, she had simply let go. As soon as she had realized that there was nothing more to achieve, nothing more to prove, no validation to seek, she allowed herself to live—to breathe. But that was when she had started failing at this trial. Each Sunday, she would have to bear the disapproving sight of her father, and each Sunday, she wished for nothing more than for the time to pass a little faster.

The tall doors opened before them, and they entered the dining hall.

In the middle of it stood a long table, big enough for at least 20 people, but only three sat: on one end, Cassian and Elric. On the other, the King.

Thalia quickly disappeared to the side, next to the rest of the maids, and Mira took her place in front of Elric, her face that had been cheerful and almost mischievous with her lady-in-waiting now as still and cold as stone.

Dishes began flooding the table, each more luxurious than the previous, and once they were all set, the King finally spoke.

"Where is Lucian?"

None of them said a word for a moment, not until Cassian let out a scoff. "I am willing to bet he is still searching for a wife as per your orders, Father. I do not think we will be seeing him today."

The King pursed his lips, but then relaxed, lifting his hands and getting hold of the spoon.

"Very well then, we shall begin without him. I assume since you all have not left the palace yet, that you do not come bearing any news in regards to my request, do you?"

"Of course not!" Cassian said, and Mira could not help but roll her eyes. Not even a mouthful in, and he was already starting his usual arguing. "Do you realize how difficult it is to find a worthy spouse, Father?"

"And how might that be? You simply have to search for one. You have the resources to do so. Use them."

Her eyes fell on Elric, who had already started eating with his head slightly lowered. She did not expect him to be the first to speak, she never did.

Cassian rested his fist on the table, clenching it tight. "There is more to it than that, Father. I ask you to please reconsider. It is a waste of time! You know my plans to expand the Kingdom, and you know I can carry them out—is that not more deserving of the Crown than a marriage?"

The King swallowed his bite of meat, cleaning the corner of his mouth with an embroidered napkin. "Your plans are nothing more than a death wish, Cassian. You seek a bloodbath, and I will not allow you to go forth with it until you secure an heir and a strong partnership. A king is of no use if he is but a corpse."

"A corpse, Father? Have you any idea how many battles I have won in my 22 years of life? And do you not agree that a bigger, stronger Kingdom would be more appealing to any respectable princess?"

His father ignored him, a flash of anger appearing on his face like lightning in a clear sky, only to disappear after a second.

"And you, Elrich? Have you started your search?"

"I have." Elrich did not look up from his plate, flinching slightly at the sound of Cassian slamming his spoon in anger. "But I do agree with Cassian, Father. If you wish for us to find a princess, one that will appease you, conquering the neighboring Kingdom could only be of help in persuading her."

"Elrich." Mira hissed, but she was one beat too late. This time, it was the King's turn to slam his spoon, but with much more force than Cassian had used.

"Do you believe Paican to be a poor Kingdom? Do you believe what I have built to not be enough to attract a Royal? You are both foolish. This land is filled to the brim with resources, with iron and fields, you just are not intelligent enough to know their worth," he spat, his words sharp like a blade. "Conquering the neighboring Kingdom, you say? At what cost? Losing thousands of our people in the fight? What use is Paican if there are no peasants to harvest materials and grow crops? How do you expect to live without the riches that come from them?"

Cassian stood, hands gripping the cloth on which his meal was resting. "Lives are meant to be sacrificed to achieve greatness! Are we not meant to seek more? To fight for more?"

Tension hung in the air, a tight rope so worn that a needle could threaten to break it in half.

The silence was heavy, too heavy. Mira was about to speak, a feeble attempt at easing the quiet war that had started in the dining hall, when the doors opened once more.

And in walked Lucian.

"Good morning, Father. Mira, brothers." He came smiling, hands held behind his back and chin high as he reached his spot next to Mira.

"Lucian, I did not think you would join us. Were you not on your search for a bride?" The King's shoulders visibly relaxed, and Cassian sat back down, his eyes seemingly burning holes in Lucian's face.

"I was, which is why I came here today." He cleared his throat, turning to address his father. "I shall leave the palace for seven days. And once I return, it will be with my spouse."

The King's lips stretched, not enough to show happiness, but much more than they had in many years.

Mira stared at him, eyebrows furrowed. That was not possible. The person she had seen—that must have been his spouse. There was no other explanation. So what could he be talking about...? Something did not feel right. But Lucian did not turn to her once.

"That is most pleasing news, son. I wish you luck on your journey."

"How?" Cassian's voice echoed from behind, and Lucian looked back at him, the shadow of a smirk crawling its way on his features. "How could you have found a bride in so little time? Are you deceiving us, Lucian?"

"I would never do such a thing. I suppose if you put enough effort into what you do, you shall reap the benefits. Don't you agree?"

Cassian sank back in his chair, cheeks burning red with barely contained fury. Even Elrich had raised his head in surprise, only to lower it again as his eyes met Lucian's.

"Well then, let us eat. We shall celebrate."