What lay outside?

Before Mira could answer, the carriage jerked slightly as someone knocked on its side. A soldier barked from outside, his tone sharp. "Move this carriage aside! Clear the path immediately!"

Mira's face went pale. "Stay inside, miss," she whispered urgently, but Liora was already peering out through the small window.

She saw another carriage approaching, larger and far more elaborate, its golden details gleaming under the sunlight. The soldiers flanked it with precision, their movements hurried yet disciplined.

"What's going on?" Liora asked again, her voice rising.

"The princess," Mira muttered. "She's arrived."

"Princess?" Liora echoed, confusion spreading across her face.

The soldiers outside grew impatient. "Move this carriage now!" one of them shouted. "Make way for the princess, cousin of Her Majesty the Queen!"

Liora's carriage jolted as the horses were urged to step aside. The commotion outside grew louder, and Liora's stomach twisted with unease. She turned to Mira, her voice shaking. "Why are we being moved? Who is she?"

The commotion outside Liora's carriage was growing, each voice sharper and louder than the last. Mira, ever composed, stood firm before the princess's maid, who had her arms crossed and a look of pure irritation on her face.

"This carriage belongs to the Queen Dowager," Mira said, repeating herself for what felt like the hundredth time. Her voice was steady, but her hands, hidden in the folds of her dress, were a little shaky. "Without the Queen Dowager's direct order, it may not be moved."

The maid sneered, rolling her eyes. "And yet, here it sits, blocking the path of Her Royal Highness's carriage. Do you believe that the Queen Dowager would wish her niece to be inconvenienced by a servant's insolence?"

Mira's jaw locked, but she didn't respond. Liora sat inside the carriage, pressing her trembling hands to her lap. The air felt suffocating, the weight of the argument outside pressing down on her. She peeked through the thin curtains, seeing flashes of the princess's gold-trimmed carriage, its splendor almost blinding in the morning sun.

"Who is inside?" the princess's maid demanded, her tone growing sharper. "If it's empty, why won't you move it?" 

"No one is inside," Mira replied evenly, though her voice held the faintest quiver.

Liora's heart was racing. She wanted to believe Mira could protect her, but the princess's maid was sharp-eyed, her suspicion practically palpable. Liora's gaze darted to the small crack in the curtain she'd been peeking through. Could she risk another look? 

Before she could decide, a calm but commanding voice cut through the rising tension. "What's going on here?"

Every head turned as the princess herself descended graciously from her carriage. Her gown, rich blue sapphire in color, shimmered at every movement. Her countenance had been serene, yet some edge to it had brought a cutting edge of steel.

"Your Highness," the maid started, curtsying, "this carriage is blocking your path, and its occupants refuse to move it. They claim it belongs to the Queen Dowager, but no one will tell me who, if anyone, is inside." 

The princess's sharp eyes flicked to Mira, who bowed low but did not speak.

"If it's really empty, why the hesitation?" the princess asked, her tone mild but tinged with skepticism.

Inside the carriage, Liora's breath hitched. She knew she should sit still and silent, but her curiosity burned brighter than her fear. Slowly, she inched the curtain aside, just enough to see the princess.

She was beautiful from afar, the princess withhigh cheekbones, a tilt to the chin that would have commanded respect from the proudest of warlords, and a gaze that pierced through every falsehood. Now she spoke to Mira, her voice calm but unyielding. "If no one is inside, then move the carriage. I am waiting." Mira shook her head. "Your Highness, I cannot. The Queen Dowager herself instructed me."

The princess raised a hand, stopping her. "Enough. Open it."

Liora froze, her pulse thudding in her ears. She yanked the curtain closed and pressed her back against the cushioned seat. What would they do if they found her?

The princess gestured to one of her guards, who stepped forward without hesitation. Mira and the other maids moved aside reluctantly, their faces pale.

He raised his gauntlet-gloved hand to grasp the door's handle. Liora's mind ran a thousand miles an hour. She couldn't be seen, not yet. She lunged off the seat with a sudden burst of panic and crawled into the cramped space beneath it, among the folded blankets and trunks.

The door swung open.

She looked inside, her sharp gaze raking the interior. But the carriage was empty, its polished wood and neatly arranged cushions giving no hint of its hidden passenger.

The maid who had insisted there was someone inside looked visibly flustered. "I swear, Your Highness, I saw movement..."

"You saw wrong," the princess said curtly, turning back to her own carriage. "Move this one aside. Let's not waste any more time."

The guard nodded, closing the door with a firm click. Mira let out a shaky breath, relief washing over her face. The other maids exchanged nervous glances but said nothing.

Liora held perfectly still, hands covering her mouth, hidden beneath the seat. She listened intently until the footstep sounds and voices dissipated before she could stir from her hiding place. It was a terrible spot, cramped and aching with limbs from this weird position. She crawled slowly out of the seat, her heart still thudding in her chest. She sat back again on the cushioned seat and gasped in ragged breaths.

The carriage started moving once more, the gentle swing soothing her frayed nerves. But her mind raced with questions. Why had Mira lied about the carriage being empty? And who was that princess, with her regal presence and piercing gaze? 

The faint clatter of hooves and wheels filled the silence as they rolled closer to the palace gates.

---

A distant segment of the palace was engaged in preparation work in the grand court. Here, ministers and noblemen milled about, talking in an undertone conversation. Right at the entrance of that chamber sat the King. Alden gazed throughout the room at the numerous people with those sharp, piercing, emerald-colored eyes from behind a facade of easiness.

The Queen Dowager, seated beside him, leaned in slightly. "You seem distracted, Alden." 

The king turned to her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. "Not distracted. Just cautious." 

"You think I've made a mistake," the Queen Dowager said, her tone light but probing. 

"I think you've acted with urgency," Alden replied carefully. "And urgency often leads to oversight."

The Queen Dowager chuckled softly. "You have always been thoughtful, my boy. It's what makes you a great king."

Alden's face softened. Despite his reservations, he trusted his aunt implicitly. She had been his second mother, raising him after his own mother, the Queen Dowager's younger sister, died giving birth to him.

"I've already sent for him," Alden said, his tone measured.

The Queen Dowager raised an eyebrow. "Lucien?" 

"Yes, Mother," Alden clarified. "If this arrangement is to work, he needs to be informed directly." 

The Queen Dowager nodded, a small smile playing on her lips. "You've thought of everything, as always." 

Alden sighed. "Not everything. But I'll do what's necessary. For you."

The conversation was cut short by the entrance of a steward, who quietly whispered something in Alden's ear. The king did not change his face, but he nodded once.

"Send him in when he arrives," Alden said.

The steward bowed and left the room.

As the court fell into silence, the tension was palpable in the air. Outside, the sun continued its climb across the sky, bathing the sweeping grounds of the palace with golden light. 

And out there, a man came walking toward them. The way he moved was steady and strong, his emerald-blue eyes hard and impossible to read. That estranged prince had come.