The light from the early morning sun poured gently into the regal yet simple chamber of Queen Mother Raina. The air smelled faintly of jasmine tea, the kind that warmed the soul. Raina sat poised at a large wooden chessboard, her fingers delicately moving a piece across the board, her sharp eyes calculating each move, the mental game a small comfort in the midst of her emotional turmoil. The queen mother was always regal, always composed, but there was something in her gaze today—an underlying sadness. It was almost as if the weight of her kingdom and her sons' fates were pressing on her heart all at once. She sipped her tea slowly, eyes fixed on the board, deep in thought.
Her lady-in-waiting, Lady Mei, quietly moved to the side, looking at Raina with a soft smile. It had been a quiet morning until now. When the door opened with a slight creak, both women looked up to find Heman standing in the doorway. He wore his usual expression—steady, composed, but with a trace of concern in his eyes as he stepped in.
Lady Mei stood, recognizing the need for privacy, and excused herself with a respectful nod. "I'll take my leave now, Your Majesty." She gave Heman a brief smile before leaving the room, her footsteps echoing down the hallway.
Raina, though still focused on the game, gave a small smile of acknowledgment. "Please, sit, Hemi," she said, her voice calm but not without a hint of exhaustion, as if she too had been awake with thoughts for much longer than the day had allowed.
Heman obeyed, sitting across from her with a quiet grace. He had seen the tension in her posture, the heaviness that had settled over her shoulders. Though Raina always wore her composure like a finely crafted gown, Heman knew her well enough to recognize when the weight of something was getting to her.
"You've come to report, I take it?" Raina asked, her gaze flicking from the board to him. She placed her teacup down gently, folding her hands over the edge of the table.
Heman nodded. "Yes, Your Majesty." He hesitated for a moment before continuing, deciding to make the truth of the situation lighthearted, as he often did when it came to matters of the heart—or the lack thereof.
"Kain," he began, a small smirk tugging at his lips, "has agreed to marry Princess Goya." He leaned back slightly, observing her reaction carefully. "And, it seems," he added with a bit of exasperation, "he and his brothers had an… eventful night last night." His tone was almost sardonic as he rolled his eyes, his distaste for the effects of alcohol evident in his posture. "They were drunk, Your Majesty. Bonded over liquor, of all things."
Raina couldn't suppress the soft chuckle that escaped her lips at the way Heman described it. She knew well the guards' distaste for indulgence in alcohol. She was a little surprised at the sudden lightness of his tone, which suggested he had made peace with the situation, at least for now.
"Drunk, you say?" she repeated, her lips curving into a smile despite herself. "Perhaps they're finally learning to enjoy themselves." Her fingers idly tapped the chessboard as she allowed herself a moment of amusement before her expression softened again.
"I'm glad to hear he's accepted," she said, her voice quieter now. "Though I know it wasn't an easy decision. Kain is… well, he's stubborn, you know that better than most."
Heman nodded solemnly. "I do. But I also know Kain. Despite his outward hardness, he's still the same gentle soul underneath. He's capable of caring deeply—just too deeply sometimes. He'll make this work, I believe." His eyes briefly flicked to the window, the light outside filtering through the curtains, casting soft shadows on the floor.
Raina met his gaze, the weight of the conversation pressing against them both. She had always been proud of her sons, of their strength, their loyalty to Èvana, and their duties as princes. But in moments like these, with the kingdom's future so uncertain and fragile, she couldn't help but wonder if they had been forced to grow up too quickly.
"Do you think he'll be happy, Heman?" Her voice was quieter now, almost a whisper, filled with a tenderness she rarely allowed herself to show.
Heman paused before replying. He considered her words carefully, his gaze steady. "I think he will be content, in time. Kain is not a man who easily shows affection or opens his heart. But with Princess Goya, he may find something he has been searching for—a partner in this weight of duty we carry."
Raina's eyes softened, the glint of concern still lingering behind her eyes. She didn't voice it aloud, but she couldn't help but worry for her son, who had often carried burdens no child should. Kain's heart was like a locked chest, and she feared Goya would not have the right key to open it.
But perhaps that was a worry for another time.
Heman continued, his tone light again, trying to lift her mood. "You're going to feel less guilty now, aren't you, Your Majesty? Now that Kain has made his decision, I believe he'll handle it with the same stubbornness he handles everything else. It's done, and he's not angry anymore." He gave a slight, almost teasing, bow of his head. "I think it's time you allowed yourself to relax a little. The war on your heart can wait for now."
Raina's lips curved into a small, fond smile at his words. "You always know how to speak to me, Heman," she said with a quiet laugh, shaking her head as she stood to pour more tea for him. "Perhaps I needed someone like you to remind me of the bigger picture." She offered him a cup, and he took it graciously.
"I'll leave you to your chess, Your Majesty," Heman said, standing. "You've got the important work ahead of you."
"Yes," she agreed softly, sitting back down and turning her attention to the chessboard. "But I will take your advice to heart. I'm glad Kain is not alone in this."
Heman made his way to the door, but before he exited, he turned back. "You know where to find me if you need anything, Queen Mother."
Raina simply nodded, her gaze back on the chessboard, a more peaceful expression settling on her features. She sipped her tea in silence, the weight of her son's decision lifting just slightly from her heart. Though the road ahead was still uncertain, perhaps there was still a glimmer of hope left for each of them.
The door closed softly behind Heman, leaving the Queen Mother to her thoughts, a quiet calm settling over the room.
The royal palace of Èvana was buzzing with quiet anticipation as a new day unfolded, one that would shape the future of the kingdom in ways no one could yet predict. The scent of blooming flowers wafted through the grand halls of the palace, mingling with the soft hum of servants preparing for the important gathering taking place within the Emperor's private chambers. Today was a day of monumental decisions—the engagement of General Kain to Princess Goya would be officially formalized, with representatives from both families present for the occasion. But there was more at play than just a simple engagement, for the weight of politics hung thick in the air, and the presence of certain figures made it clear that this wasn't just about two people coming together, but the careful balancing of power and duty.
As the large wooden doors to the Emperor's council chamber creaked open, the first to enter was none other than Crown Prince Kalan, with his trusted right-hand, Hosha, at his side. The two of them stepped in with the quiet confidence that came from being among the most powerful figures in Lamig. They were both dressed in the fine, embroidered robes of the Lamigian royal family—Kalan's robes marked with rich maroon and gold, while Hosha's were deep emerald with silver stitching. Their presence commanded the room, but it was clear from the way they walked in that this wasn't just a meeting of families—it was a negotiation.
Following behind them was Lord Fahit, an emissary sent by King Ken to oversee the finalization of the agreement and ensure that Kalan wouldn't back out on his word. The air was thick with tension as Fahit's sharp, calculating eyes scanned the room, noting the key figures present. His dark, almost predatory gaze lingered on each of the royal family members, though he made no move to greet anyone until the formalities were over.
Inside the chamber, the royal family of Èvana was already assembled. Emperor Arvin, as always, radiated a warmth that immediately put everyone at ease. His calm presence filled the room, and his smile was enough to disarm even the most stoic of men. Beside him sat his brother, General Kain—who, despite his calm demeanor, exuded an aura of power that even Kalan and Fahit knew not to challenge. Kain's eyes were unreadable, his posture relaxed, but there was an unspoken tension in his every movement. This engagement was not one he had sought, but he had accepted it nonetheless, his role as General outweighing his personal desires over the years.
Duke Rnzo and Lord Kaisen were seated nearby, their faces a mix of casual amusement and interest, as they observed the proceedings with quiet intrigue. Though the formality of the moment was not lost on them, the two of them were more concerned with teasing their brothers and exchanging playful glances than anything to do with the politics at hand. Rnzo's sharp eyes flickered between Kalan and Kain, while Kaisen's carefree demeanor made it clear that he didn't quite grasp the full gravity of the situation.
The atmosphere was thick with an almost palpable tension as Kalan and Hosha made their way to the center of the room. Kalan, though reserved, couldn't help but feel the weight of his responsibility as the heir to Lamig. His gaze met the Emperor's for a moment before he turned his attention to Kain, who was seated with his usual composed presence.
"Emperor Arvin, General Kain," Kalan began, his voice steady but carrying a hint of formality. "It is my great honor to present myself and my family in this important moment for both of our kingdoms. I trust you know the purpose of our visit today."
Kain, his posture unshifting, gave a small nod. "I am aware, Crown Prince Kalan. Please, let us proceed."
Kalan took a deep breath, then proceeded with the matter at hand. "As per Lamigian tradition, once the engagement is finalized, the lady moves to her in-laws' household while fulfilling her dutie remains there". Kalan almost choked that statement he hated the thought of it but didn't want to offend the royal family so he proceeds, "It is a matter of our customs, one that has been in place for generations. I hope this will not be seen as an imposition, but rather as a show of respect for our way of life."
The words hung in the air for a brief moment, a subtle but sharp silence settling over the room as everyone awaited a response. Kalan's eyes flicked toward Kain, awaiting his reaction. He had phrased the statement cautiously, unsure if it would be deemed an offense by the royal family of Èvana. It was no secret that the customs of the two nations were different, and such traditions could easily be misinterpreted.
Emperor Arvin, always the peacemaker, was the first to speak. His calm voice cut through the tension like a gentle breeze. "It is no imposition, Crown Prince Kalan. In fact, it is an admirable tradition. We, too, have our customs, though they may not align with yours, but we do respect the significance of family and the importance of the role that each member plays within it." He turned toward Kain. "What say you, my brother?"
Kain, who had remained silent up until this point, finally spoke. His voice was as composed as always, though there was a hint of something else beneath it—something that could only be described as the weight of duty. "I accept the customs of Lamig. Princess Goya will, of course, move to my household once the engagement is finalized. I have no objections, But our customs shall also be put in line she will not have any duties until she is my wife." Kain said that in the most calm way possible but his voice held no space for debate.
A quiet sigh was let out by Kalan,he let out a small, relieved breath. He hadn't expected them to be so nice especially not the General, but he was gald now he could see that maybe she won't be miserable, at this point he was feeling light but moment still carried its own weight.
"Of course Your Grace " he then finally agreed
Fahit, standing in the back of the room, looked on with a mixture of skepticism and approval. His mission had been clear—to ensure that Kalan did not back out on his promise. It seemed that, for now, there was no reason to intervene. His job had been done, and he would continue to monitor the situation closely.
With the formalities out of the way, the group began to relax, their earlier tension dissipating. Arvin's usual warmth returned as he smiled at the Crown Prince and his entourage. "I am glad to hear that our nations have come to an agreement, and that our traditions will be respected. I look forward to the wedding, and to strengthening the bonds between Èvana and Lamig as a whole."
Kalen nodded, his face softening slightly. "It is an important step, Your Majesty. And I trust that the union of General Kain and Princess Goya will be a prosperous one our Empire."
At this, the room seemed to exhale collectively, and Rnzo, who had been idly observing the exchange, leaned back in his chair, smirking at Kain. "Well, Kain, I must say, you're a man of few words, but when you do speak, it carries weight. Not even the Crown Prince could argue with that."
Kaisen chuckled softly, his usual carefree nature shining through. "Looks like my brother here is about to become a husband, eh? I can't wait to see how this plays out."
Kain's expression remained stoic, but the faintest trace of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "I'll do my duty," he said simply.
Kalan raised his cup in a mock toast. "To duty, then."
"To duty," the others echoed, lifting their cups and clinking them together.
As the meeting came to an end, Kalan, Hosha, and Fahit made their way back to the Lamigian palace. The atmosphere had lightened considerably, and though the weight of the engagement still loomed over Kain, there was a sense of relief in the air. Rnzo and Kaisen, unable to contain their amusement, began teasing the General as they departed, their voices fading as the group left the Emperor's chambers.
Kain sat in silence, his thoughts swirling, as he prepared himself for the next chapter of his life—a chapter that had been written by duty, not by choice.
The morning had dawned bright and warm, the golden light pouring through the high-latticed windows of the Eastern Palace. The smell of lavender water and spiced tea drifted through the corridors, mingling with the fluttering voices of maids moving briskly through the halls.
Inside the drawing room, Kanha, Gina, and Mirha sat in poised silence. The mood between them was a fragile thread—tense, taut, and quiet. It was the sort of silence that wasn't born from comfort, but from careful avoidance.
Mirha sat by the carved window ledge, her legs curled beneath her and a piece of embroidery laid gently across her lap—though she hadn't made a single stitch. Her dark lashes fluttered as she glanced about, clearly curious, but trying not to seem too eager.
Gina sat upright on a cushion nearby, rubbing a small balm into her fingers absently, watching the flurry of movement in the corridor. Though composed, her eyes darted now and then to the door and to the trays of silk and flowers that kept being carried past them.
Kanha was seated with perfect posture on a cushioned bench across the room, flipping through a book she had barely read. Her chin was slightly raised, her expression unreadable. She had not spoken a word to Mirha since their heated exchange two mornings prior. There was a coldness in her presence now—not openly cruel, but stiff, controlled, and deliberately distant.
The silence was broken not by one of them, but by a gentle laugh from a passing maid.
"You look like a kitten watching people cook," the older maid said to Mirha, smiling fondly. Her name was Saela—gray-haired but spry, with kind eyes and the faint scent of jasmine lingering wherever she walked.
Mirha blinked, then looked at her, embarrassed but caught in the act of being far too obviously curious. "I… I didn't mean to stare. I was just wondering—what's going on? Everyone seems busy with something special."
Saela chuckled again, waving her hand. "No harm in wondering, child. That's a good thing. Curiosity keeps the heart young." Then she glanced back toward the hall before leaning in with a kind of theatrical whisper. "We're preparing for the arrival of the General's bride."
Mirha's eyes widened. "Princess Goya?"
Gina's gaze sharpened with interest too, and she turned her body slightly toward them. Kanha didn't look up from her book, but her hand stilled mid-page.
"Yes, that one," Saela continued, beaming with a trace of pride, as if she'd orchestrated the whole match herself. "Such an occasion! We haven't had a new noble lady move into the men's wing in years—especially here in the royal castle of Lamig. "
"But I thought engagements usually take a while to prepare for," Mirha asked. "Isn't it too soon?"
Saela tilted her head. "Normally yes, but the customs of Lamig—her homeland—say that once the engagement is formally accepted, the bride must move into her husband's household within a short time. It's how they show commitment and unity between the families."
"I think it's beautiful," Gina said, glancing toward Mirha. "Quick, yes, but symbolic. I suppose it's a way of saying: no turning back now."
Mirha smiled, but her hands gently gripped the edge of her embroidery frame. She wasn't sure why, but the idea of Goya moving into the men's wing, close to Kain, felt… intimate in a way that stung unexpectedly.
"And the General?" Gina asked, lowering her voice playfully. "Is he even ready?"
Saela chuckled. "Who can tell with men like him? But he agreed. That's a start."
Across the room, Kanha turned a page with a little more force than necessary. The sound made Gina glance her way, but the older girl still said nothing, refusing to acknowledge the conversation.
Saela, ever the intuitive one, glanced between the girls. "Now now, don't be stiff in here," she said with a faint scolding tone. "There's enough quietness in the palace garden without it creeping into the young ladies' quarters."
Mirha laughed softly. "It's just… some of us are still a little out of step, I think."
Gina gave her a knowing look. "I'd say we're still dancing the same tune. Just not quite in rhythm yet."
"I have rhythm," Kanha said at last, not looking up from her book. "I simply choose to sit this song out."
The air thickened for a moment. Saela, wise enough to know when to retreat, gave a short bow and stepped out, leaving them to the silence that swelled once again.
Mirha cleared her throat, trying to keep the mood light. "Do you think Princess Goya will like it here?"
Gina nodded. "She's already met everyone. I think she'll thrive. She has the kind of calm strength people respect… the kind that doesn't ask to be noticed, but always is."
Mirha nodded slowly, remembering the way Goya had carried herself the night of the banquet. There was grace there, yes, but also something heavy in her eyes. The weight of knowing too much. Of carrying disappointment quietly.
"I hope she'll find some happiness," Mirha murmured.
"She will," Gina said gently, then added with a teasing smile, "especially if Kain doesn't mess it up."
Mirha chuckled. "That's a tall order."
Kanha shut her book with a soft snap, finally rising from her seat. She smoothed her skirt and walked past them, pausing briefly near the door.
"I'm sure the General will treat her with all the duty he's been taught," she said coolly. "But love? That's another matter. That's not something generals are good at."
And with that, she was gone.
Gina sighed. "You'd think she was the one getting married."
Mirha didn't answer. She looked down at her embroidery—still untouched—and suddenly couldn't remember what she had been trying to stitch in the first place. She picked up the needle, paused, and then gently set it down again.
"She's not wrong though," she said softly. "Love isn't something you learn like swordplay. It's messy. Soft in places and brutal in others."
Gina reached over and touched her hand. "But it's worth it. If you feel it—if it's real—it's worth it."
Mirha looked up, her eyes searching Gina's, and saw something there. A recent memory, raw and unspoken, flickering behind the warmth.
Gina smiled knowingly and gave her fingers a gentle squeeze.
And in that quiet, flickering space of girlhood, longing, and royal duty, the room finally felt like a place where something gentle might grow again.