The palace corridors were quieter than usual that afternoon.
Sunlight poured through tall stained-glass windows, painting the marble floors with soft patches of blue and gold.
Servants moved quietly along the halls, their footsteps echoing faintly beneath the high ceilings.
Ariana had barely stepped out of the gardens when a young palace maid hurried toward her.
"Your Highness!"
The girl stopped a few steps away and bowed quickly, slightly out of breath.
Ariana tilted her head.
"Yes?"
"Her Majesty is asking for you in the solar."
Serena, who stood beside Ariana, let out a very small sigh.
Ariana noticed it immediately.
"Something amusing?"
Ariana asked softly.
Serena lowered her voice.
"The Queen asking for you is rarely amusing."
Ariana almost smiled.
"Well," she said calmly, "I suppose we shouldn't keep her waiting."
Serena folded her arms lightly as they began walking toward the inner wing of the palace.
"You know what this is about."
Ariana glanced at her.
"No, I don't."
Serena raised an eyebrow.
"Marriage."
Ariana didn't answer immediately.
Servants stepped aside as the princess passed, bowing their heads respectfully.
At the far end of the corridor stood the tall carved doors leading to the Queen's solar.
Two guards pushed them open.
Serena stopped outside.
"I'll wait here."
Ariana nodded once and stepped inside.
**************************************
The solar was filled with warm afternoon light.
Tall windows overlooked the palace gardens, and shelves of books lined the curved walls.
A large table stood in the center of the room, covered with neatly arranged letters sealed in wax.
Queen Augusta stood near the window, reading one of them.
Without turning, she said calmly,
"You kept me waiting."
Ariana walked closer.
"My apologies, Mother."
The queen folded the letter and placed it back on the table before finally looking up.
Her gaze swept over her daughter in a quick, measuring glance.
For a moment she said nothing.
Then she gestured toward the stack of letters.
"Tell me what you think those are."
Ariana looked at them.
"Letters."
Queen Augusta gave a faint, unimpressed smile.
"Yes. But from whom?"
Ariana stepped closer and picked one up.
The seal belonged to a kingdom from the western territories.
She placed it back down.
"Marriage proposals."
"Correct."
The queen began pacing slowly around the table.
"They have been arriving every week now."
Ariana folded her hands behind her back.
"That doesn't surprise me."
"Of course it doesn't," Queen Augusta said. "You are eighteen."
She stopped walking.
"And the court has begun to notice."
Ariana leaned slightly against the edge of the table.
"Has it?"
Queen Augusta looked at her carefully.
"You know very well it has."
The queen's eyes moved briefly to Ariana's hair, where strands of bright red caught the sunlight pouring through the window.
She spoke almost absently.
"When you were born, the entire court whispered for days."
Ariana raised an eyebrow.
"About what?"
"That hair."
The Queen's voice carried faint amusement now.
"They all thought it was strange."
Ariana touched a loose strand lightly.
"It came from Father's mother."
"Yes."
Queen Augusta's gaze sharpened slightly.
"From The Late Queen Elinora."
Then she added,
"But the eyes are mine."
Ariana gave a small nod.
"Blue."
"Exactly."
The queen returned to the letters and picked up another one.
"Do you know what happens when a princess grows older?"
Ariana answered calmly.
"She becomes useful."
Queen Augusta looked at her again.
"That is one way to say it."
She placed the letter down.
"You will begin meeting some of these men soon."
Ariana did not react.
The queen noticed.
"You don't seem excited."
"Should I be?"
Queen Augusta crossed her arms.
"Most girls would be."
Ariana gave a soft laugh.
"Most girls are not royal daughters."
That answer seemed to satisfy the queen.
For a moment the room grew quiet.
Then Queen Augusta asked suddenly,
"Ariana… do you ever leave the palace grounds?"
The question came so casually it almost sounded harmless.
But Ariana knew better.
"No."
Queen Augusta watched her carefully.
"You never walk beyond the gardens?"
"No."
The queen held her gaze for several seconds.
Then she nodded slowly.
"Good."
She gathered the letters again.
"You may go."
Ariana inclined her head.
"As you wish, Mother."
She turned and walked toward the door.
Just before she reached it, Queen Augusta spoke again.
"Ariana."
The princess paused and looked back.
"Yes?"
The queen's voice was calm.
"Be careful with the freedom you allow yourself."
Ariana studied her for a moment.
Then she smiled slightly.
"I always am."
Outside the solar, Serena immediately looked up.
"Well?"
Ariana walked past her down the corridor.
"Marriage proposals."
Serena groaned.
"I knew it."
They continued walking together through the quiet halls.
Serena glanced sideways at her.
"Did she suspect anything?"
Ariana shook her head.
"No."
Serena relaxed slightly.
"Good."
But Ariana's thoughts were already somewhere else as they stepped back into the sunlight of the palace courtyard.
Marriage.
Alliances.
Duty.
The words followed her quietly as the afternoon light settled over Ivanova.
*******************************
The Draco Camp.
The heat of late summer clung heavily to the war camp.
The air was thick with dust and the scent of iron, the ground worn down by weeks of marching and bloodshed.
Rows of dark tents stretched across the uneven land, banners of Draco hanging still in the sluggish wind.
At the center of it all stood the largest tent.
The King's.
Inside, the atmosphere was colder.
Alexander stood over a large wooden table, his gaze fixed on a spread of maps marked with ink, charcoal, and blade scratches.
Lines of conquest.
Borders already erased.
A general stood across from him, rigid.
"We secured the eastern pass, my king," the man reported.
"But… we intercepted someone near the outer perimeter."
Alexander didn't look up.
"A soldier?"
"No."
A pause.
"A spy."
That made him lift his gaze.
Slowly.
"From where?"
The general hesitated—just slightly.
"We're not certain.
He carried no insignia.
But he was watching the camp… counting movements."
Silence settled between them.
Then_
"Bring him."
The man was dragged in moments later.
Bruised.
Bloodied.
Barely standing.
But alive.
Two guards forced him to his knees.
Alexander watched him the way one studies something already decided.
Not with curiosity.
With judgment.
"Who sent you?" Alexander asked.
The spy said nothing.
A faint smirk touched his lips instead.
Alexander stepped closer.
"Wrong answer."
He didn't raise his voice.
Didn't need to.
One of the guards struck the man across the face.
Hard.
Still—
Silence.
The spy spat blood onto the ground.
Alexander's expression didn't change.
"Again," he said.
Another blow.
Nothing.
The general shifted slightly.
"My King, if we keep him alive longer, we may be able to extract—"
"No."
The word cut cleanly through the air.
Alexander crouched in front of the man now.
Close enough to see the defiance in his eyes.
Close enough to end it.
"You misunderstand something," Alexander said quietly.
"This isn't about information."
The spy frowned faintly.
And for the first time—
Uncertainty flickered.
Alexander leaned in just slightly.
"It's about sending a message."
He stood.
Turned.
"Take him outside."
The camp had already begun to gather.
Word spread fast.
Soldiers formed a loose circle as the prisoner was dragged into the open.
The late afternoon sun cast long shadows across the ground.
Alexander stepped forward, calm as ever.
The spy struggled once more.
"Kill me then," he spat.
Alexander looked at him with disdain.
"Of course."
A pause.
Then—
"But not quickly."
The shift in the air was immediate.
Even the soldiers felt it.
This wasn't execution.
This was a statement.
Alexander turned slightly to his men.
"Let them see what happens to those who watch us from the shadows."
No one moved at first.
Not out of hesitation—
Out of understanding.
This would be remembered.
Minutes later, the camp fell into a heavy, suffocating silence.
No cheers.
No celebration.
Just the weight of what had been done.
Alexander didn't look back.
To him—
It was already over.
He returned to his tent as the sun dipped lower.
The maps were still there.
Waiting.
Unfinished.
A different general approached this time, slower.
"My King…"
Alexander didn't turn.
"What?"
The man swallowed.
"There's something else."
A pause.
"The spy… before he was taken… he said one thing."
Now Alexander looked at him.
"Speak."
The general hesitated.
Then:
"He said…"
Another pause.
"As long as she lives… you will never win."
Silence.
Real silence this time.
Not the kind born from fear.
The kind that lingers.
Alexander's gaze didn't shift.
But something in it sharpened.
"Did he say who?"
"No, my King."
A beat.
Then—
Alexander turned back to the map.
Calm.
Controlled.
Untouched.
"Then he died for nothing."
*******************************
But that night—
For the first time in weeks—
Alexander did not immediately call for the next march.
He stood alone in the dim light of the tent, staring at the map once more.
Territories marked.
Kingdoms falling.
Everything exactly as it should be.
And yet—
His hand stilled slightly over the parchment.
Not doubt.
Not hesitation.
Something else.
Something… unresolved.
Then, quietly—
"Find out who she is."