Rina sat in her room, the quiet hanging over the space like a heavy curtain isolating her from the world. She held the stained kimono on her lap, gazing at it with eyes filled with a mix of pain and regret. The dark brown stain looked like a wound on the soft fabric, as if it were a stab into a part of her identity she had never been allowed to embrace.
Every movement Sina had made earlier flashed before her like an irritating spark: the condescending look, the deliberate collision, the intentional spill… as if the past she tried to close the door on had returned to pound fiercely on her heart. The features of her old memories trembled in her chest—memories she didn't want to touch today.
She set the kimono aside with a long sigh, then began slowly changing her clothes. The air around her was still, indifferent to the tears she fought to hold back, indifferent to the lump in her throat that had tightened since the incident. She looked at the kimono once more and whispered to herself:
"Didn't it deserve just one moment of joy…? I wanted to wear it with pride… to feel close to my mother and grandmother… not have it stained like this."
She reached out and pressed the call button. The bell rang softly, and after a moment, someone knocked at the door.
A young maid entered, bowing respectfully:
"Yes, Your Highness?"
Rina answered in a quiet voice, barely audible, looking down so no one would see the break in her eyes:
"Wash the kimono… and bring it back to me."
Lucy raised her head in mild surprise. She wasn't used to seeing a noble cling to a damaged piece of clothing—the family could buy dozens of new ones without a blink.
"Miss… you could wear something new instead of a used one."
Rina's breath trembled for a moment, then she sighed deeply. She lifted her tired eyes to the maid:
"Lucy… just wash it, please. Agreed?"
A short silence followed. Then Lucy nodded, holding the kimono carefully, as if she understood it was more than just a piece of clothing.
"As you wish, Your Highness."
The maid left, closing the door lightly. Rina remained alone, Lucy's footsteps fading down the hall, while thoughts crowded the young girl's mind.
She sat on the edge of the bed, replaying what had happened… remembering how she had shouted at Carla. The image of Carla—the woman who had carried her as a baby, nursed her, and raised her—appeared painfully clear.
Rina frowned and pressed a hand to her chest, feeling the weight that only guilt can bring.
How could she have said those words? How had she dared raise her voice to the one person who truly loved her?
She clenched her dress tightly, and two silent tears rolled down her cheeks. She didn't try to stop them—but she also didn't have the courage to admit her sadness.
Her shoulder trembled lightly… then:
knock knock
The door opened without waiting, as if whoever was behind it knew the moment could not be delayed.
Rina quickly wiped her tears, standing straight to hide everything… but the voice that entered was gentle, warm, knowing her better than she knew herself:
"Rina… don't wipe your tears. I saw you… don't be sad, my dear."
Rina lifted her head slowly… and there was Carla. Her calm face, small smile, eyes full of a tenderness unlike any other.
Carla approached and sat beside her on the bed without another word. She reached out and embraced Rina, a hug like the warmth of winter touched by soft sunlight.
Rina did not resist. For a moment… everything seemed to calm, the guilt retreated a step, and her heart found a safe place to catch its breath.
After a few moments, Rina pulled back slightly and breathed deeply, then spoke in a quiet but sincere voice:
"I'm sorry… sorry for my words and my bad reaction… I promise I won't do it again."
Carla looked at her with eyes shining with affection, then drew her back into a warm hug:
"Rina… it's okay. We all make mistakes… especially at your age."
She gently stroked her hair and continued with a calm smile:
"Being with me is more important than any angry words you said. And I know your heart, my little girl."
Rina closed her eyes, breathing in a comfort and warmth she hadn't felt since morning…
And in that moment, she realized the kimono could be washed…
But some scratches in the heart heal only with one sincere hug.
---
At the dawn of Saturday, light streamed through the curtains like a golden braid, gently stirring the sleepers. Rina awoke earlier than usual, not to the bustle of the servants, but to a quiet surge of longing. That warm excitement spread through her chest, reminding her that this day was unlike any other… today she would meet Ron.
She sat on the bed for a moment, watching the light creep into the room, as if testing whether she was truly ready for the day. She smiled, then stood slowly, dressing in her best comfortable outfit—a light dress suitable for an early outing. She knew Ron didn't care much about wealth or appearances, but he would notice the effort… and he would smile.
She opened a small box on the table, preparing carefully chosen gifts, each handled with the care given to a precious plant:
A box of cookies she had baked herself last night, still exuding the gentle scent of vanilla.
A small music book, its pages filled with notes she knew he would read curiously.
A handful of coins for him to play with at the market, without worrying about anything.
She also placed a bit of extra money in her bag… not to show generosity, but because Rina knew Ron: he lived simply, worked hard, and hid his needs behind a wide smile. She didn't want him to notice—she just wanted him to enjoy it without burden.
Before leaving, Karina looked at the guard who always accompanied her. He stood near the door with formal elegance, yet he knew the rule Rina always set. She gave him a small, calm nod, meaning: from afar, do not approach unless necessary. He responded with a silent bow.
Rina walked down the long corridor toward the palace gate, each step lighter than the last. The outside air was crisp, like a fresh page waiting to be written upon. The city began to wake: the cries of merchants opening their shops, the scent of warm pastries, and the rustling of tree leaves in the morning breeze.
As she walked, she imagined Ron… how would he look today? Would he stand under the same tree where he usually waited for her? Or sit on the stone wall pretending not to wait, then smile when she approached?
She thought of his laugh, his way of recounting the week as a heroic adventure, and how he lowered his voice when sharing a little secret with her that he told no one else.
As she neared the meeting place, she saw him.
He stood there, as if the tree had chosen him as its shadow and companion. His hand waved eagerly at Rina, and his smile preceded his laugh. His smile was genuine… the kind that lifts a cloud off the heart you didn't know was there.
Karina's steps quickened without thought, and she ran to him, the wind playing with her hair as if celebrating their reunion.
"Ron! Finally, I see you!"
She shouted with joy, holding his hands warmly, lifting her gaze to make sure he was well… because being away from him had not been easy on her heart.
But something caught her eye. A thin red line on his left arm. It wasn't deep, but it looked fresh, like the wound of a story yet to be told. She moved closer and lifted his hand to examine it with sincere concern:
"What's this? Did you hurt yourself?"
Ron let out a small laugh, the kind that reassures even if it doesn't erase worry. Then he pointed to a nearby tree:
"Don't worry, just a scratch from a branch… I was fixing the garden fence."
Karina looked at him with a gaze that mixed reproach and care. He was always like this… helping everyone, working hard, never telling anyone.
Before she could speak, he noticed her bag, the box tied with a ribbon, the book, and then the coin she had added inadvertently.
He raised his eyebrows in a mix of surprise and amusement:
"You brought all this?! Rina… you know I'm not poor or in need for you to do all this."
He said it gently, hiding a touch of embarrassment… and a small wish not to burden Rina.
---
Rina laughed lightly, then pushed the gifts toward him, her voice calm yet filled with affection:
"Take it… and shut up."
She wasn't joking this time. There was a soft truth in her laughter, a small quiver in her heart unlike anything else.
He was the one…
the one she loved so much she thought her heart couldn't hold anyone else.
He listened when the world felt tight, never stood against her no matter how chaotic things became.
In the past… she had lost him.
In the present… it seemed fate decided to grant her a chance she hadn't dreamed of.
And inside, she vowed that everything would change this time.
They sat together under the tree, the wind playing with its leaves above them, sunbeams scattering across the ground as if drawing a protective circle around them. Their conversation flowed naturally, the kind that only happens with someone who knows you… better than you sometimes admit.
Ron suddenly broke the silence, glancing at the mask covering half her face, eyes curious and concerned at once:
"Rina… I heard your aunt started living with you… is she okay?"
She was surprised by his knowledge, her eyes widening for a moment, then she smiled faintly, a smile only someone very close could notice.
"How did you know?"
He raised his eyebrows in a playful gesture and burst out laughing loudly:
"Of course… from gossip… rumors… and newspapers."
Rina laughed genuinely and shook her head in acknowledgment.
"Well… honestly… very honestly… she hates me and I hate her, she knows I hate her, and I know she knows I hate her."
Ron clapped his hands as if celebrating this strange agreement:
"Excellent! Mutual hatred… very good. And her children?"
"I hate them… and they hate me."
Ron blinked in mild surprise, then raised his hands in surrender:
"Alright… great… you okay? All of you okay?"
Rina burst into laughter, holding her stomach from laughing so much:
"Yes… we all hate each other."
Their laughter blended with the wind, as if the whole world paused to give them this peace.
They continued talking…
for a long time…
as if the time that was stolen from them before was now generously returned.
Ron adjusted the cuff of his coat, hiding a small awkwardness in his fingers:
"By the way… do you have friends other than me?"
Rina paused, as if the question wasn't casual, but a key unlocking an old door in her chest. She took a deep breath, then spoke slowly, uncertainly:
"…Vicky…"
Ron raised an eyebrow, speaking with that quiet tone he knew she disliked:
"I know."
She pressed her lips together and gave him a slightly sharp look:
"Then why are you asking?!"
He hesitated, then said:
"…the second prince."
She didn't give him time to comment.
A smile appeared on her lips… a smile like a window opening to a sun that knows no sunset. She reached her small hand toward him and pressed it firmly, enveloped in silky softness, like the final trace of a beautiful forgetting. She pulled him along before he could comprehend what was happening.
They ran together, their steps cutting through the gray morning mist like fleeing sparks, their laughter scattering into the air like golden threads seen only when the heart is wide open. Then they stopped suddenly, as if the ground had commanded them to pause.
She turned to him, her eyes shining like two stars that had just slipped from the sky's necklace:
"I don't want to sleep tonight… or stop playing!"
She said it in a voice that pierced the early morning silence like an arrow of light.
Ron followed her, their breaths mingling in the cold, until her hand slipped from his. She bent to pick up a dry branch by the path, then knelt and began tracing letters in the dirt—imperfect, yet alive, pulsing like a small heart:
"Karina Ron"
Ron looked at the letters, feeling a faint pang he didn't understand why it insisted on returning to him.
If only she had written the real name… the name he had hidden for so long.
But how could she know?
She was a child burdened beyond her age, an heir born to be greater than her slender body.
She lifted her head, eyes glimmering with innocence that melted everything:
"Isn't the writing beautiful? Could I have improved it?"
Ron smiled, trying to hide the lump in his chest:
"The writing is wonderful… but it's missing a little something."
And he meant: missing that she should write his real name.
They sat on the cold ground, and in that rare quiet moment, an idea occurred to him. He hesitated slightly, then said softly:
"Rina… you once said you never saw your mother's face, and that she left when you were born… not because of you, right?"
Her shoulders trembled slightly, as if a wind had passed over her heart. She lifted her emerald eyes to him, reflecting the silver light of the moon:
"Yes… I wish I could see her true face. They say she smiled when she saw me… before closing her eyes forever. I'm happy she saw me… but sad I'll only see her in faded pictures."
Her words sank into his chest like truth entering a hidden place.
Suddenly, he found himself saying:
"I… never saw my mother either. She left a week after I was born."
Rina's eyes widened in pure surprise:
"Really?! Do you know how she died?"
He shook his head, letting a small lie slip painlessly:
"No… but I'm looking for people who knew her. My mother was from the south… and once lived here, in your duchy."
She stared at him for a long moment, as if her mind tried to catch an invisible thread from his words, then said with transparent hope:
"And if you find what you're looking for… will you leave me?"
He smiled—a warm smile, yet heavier than it should be:
"Where would I go? This is my home… and I'll always stay by your side."
But the truth he didn't speak was deeper…
His real home wasn't here, nor in the duchy…
His real home was a mother searching for him among the ashes of memories…
and secrets he feared the day would be revealed to Karina.