The sun peeked through the slightly opened window, creating a golden hue on the ground and casting more light into the dim room, which had been shaded by thick curtains. Oriana slowly opened her eyes.
A quiet yawn escaped her lips as she turned to the side of the bed, inhaling softly. Her eyes felt heavy; she shut them almost tightly before opening them again.
Of course, the reason for her waking was the sunlight—which meant she was not alone in the room.
"Good morning, Queen Oriana, your bath is ready," her personal maid, Layla, said with a bow.
Layla was the only maid Oriana allowed to bathe her. She had been the one to open the curtain—perhaps the bravest among them all. The other maids regarded her highly, for she possessed a gentle nature that usually calmed the queen.
Everyone knew that if anyone else had dared disturb Oriana's sleep, there would have been a tantrum… or worse.
Oriana slowly sat up, staring into the thin air as if trying to remember the events of the night before. Her feet brushed against each other, and then the memories returned—flashing back like a wave crashing against the ocean.
Her body stilled.
She had passed out.
She glanced down at what she was wearing and noticed she had been changed into a nightgown—the same knee-length nightgown she had worn before putting on that black gown. So he had simply removed the black gown… and wiped her face.
"My lady…"
The maid's voice snapped her back to the present.
Oriana stood, her bare legs pressing against the cold marble floor. The room was vast. The king-sized bed where Oriana had slept stood at the center.
On one side was a small library area; on another, a sofa-like chair where she often spent her time reading or drawing. The soft smell of jasmine and caramel circled through the room, giving it a gentle, soothing warmth.
Her eyes wandered slowly around the chamber.
Then they stopped.
They landed on the lamp.
The bright pink lamp.
"That." She pointed, her eyes turning cold as the maid's gaze followed respectfully.
"Take it out of my sight," she said icily.
Her nightwear fell softly to the floor as she stepped forward toward the bathroom, her movements graceful and elegant.
Her hips swayed naturally from side to side—the same mesmerizing walk she was known for, one that could leave onlookers utterly breathless.
The maid bowed and quickly rushed to take it away.
Oriana entered the bathroom, and it seemed that this was where the scent had been coming from. Her eyes rested on the soft flowers placed in the bath—delicate purple petals floating gently upon the surface. Steam rose softly from the water, exactly how she liked it. Not merely warm, but a step beyond lukewarm.
Her legs moved forward, her toes trailing through the water as if testing it.
A slow smile rested upon her lips.
She stepped inside, the warm liquid surrounding her body like a quiet embrace.
Slowly, she dipped herself further until she pushed her head beneath the water, wetting her face completely, as if she wanted the warmth to surround her fully.
The maid entered to continue assisting her, but fear gripped her bones when she realized Oriana had submerged herself entirely. Panic seized her. Without thinking, she rushed toward the tub, her eyes wide, her only thought to save the queen.
"L–Lady Oriana…"
Oriana emerged from the water, using her slender hands to push her red hair back while wiping the droplets from her face. Her emerald eyes stared at the girl, one brow raised slightly.
The maid immediately lowered her head, realizing she had misjudged the situation.
There was a moment of pause.
Then Oriana's lips parted into laughter. Her soft voice echoed through the bathroom as the maid bowed even lower, as if apologizing. Oriana lifted her fingers to her lips in a mock display of shock while her other hand moved lightly to her chest.
"Oh my heavens… you thought I was going to drown myself." Her voice dropped into a whisper, her tongue clicking irritably. "Lots of idiots in this castle…"
Her eyes remained calm as she tilted her head.
The maid shook her head frantically, attempting to apologize.
"I… apolo—"
Her words were cut off sharply by Oriana.
"Give me soap."
The maid bowed again and hurried quickly to fetch it. She was certain that meant the queen was not angry with her. A slight relief washed over her chest.
Still, she reminded herself silently: Next time, I must not jump to such baseless conclusions.
Oriana began to rub the soap over her body as her thoughts drifted back to the last conversation she had with her brother.
He had called her to speak about her marriage.
She was now twenty-three, almost twenty-four, and he had insisted that she should marry, reminding her that she was not getting any younger.
He had asked her the same thing the year before, but she had refused, and he had allowed it. That year, he had not welcomed any suitors for her, respecting her reason and choosing not to meddle.
But this year was different.
This time, he had not accepted her refusal.
And it had caused a quarrel between them.
Her chest tightened slightly as the memory surfaced. She wished their last conversation had not ended in anger. Though they often insulted one another, those moments had always been playful—the familiar teasing between siblings.
This had not been playful.
Still, it did not mean she would not find out who had killed her brother.
She definitely would.
Oriana's hands tightened around the bar of soap until her knuckles paled. With sudden force, she slapped the water, sending a sharp splash across the bath. The water spread across the floor like a visceral, grotesque painting.
Layla lifted her head slightly, ready to move forward and assist, but she stopped when she realized the queen did not need her help at all. Slowly, she lowered her head, hands behind her back, understanding it all.
Oriana's hands moved to her hair, gripping the bright red strands lightly as the soap lather stained her silk-like hair with white foam. Through it all, she made no sound.
Why had she been so dismissive about the thought of marriage?
Did it have something to do with that man?
Was she simply refusing because now…
Because now she lo—
Her breathing trembled.
Her heart…
Her heart now belonged to a dead man.