The rival appears 1

Jane's fingers brushed softly against the cool glass of her chamber window as she gazed out at the sprawling green hills and thatched roofs of the village below. The kingdom lay before her in a breathtaking patchwork of fields and forests, now as familiar to her as the lines on her palms after these three years.

"Here's to another day, another chance," she whispered, her breath fogging up the glass. She let her eyes linger on the castle's west wing, where Prince Dubois lay in a deep slumber that seemed impervious to any attempts at waking him.

With a soft sigh, she turned away, her long black braid swaying gently behind her. The weight of her responsibilities wrapped around her like a heavy cloak, offering a strange mix of comfort and burden.

"I've come so far," Jane mused, tracing the calluses on her palms—a reminder of the hard work she'd put in. "From being just a simple village girl to... this." She gestured around her modest but warm chamber, a wry smile fleeting across her lips.

A sense of pride washed over her as she remembered the trust King Aldric had placed in her and how much she'd learned about the prince's condition. Yet, a creeping anxiety nibbled at her confidence, an ever-present companion through the years.

"What if I'm not enough?" That thought slipped out like a whisper, and she shook her head, pushing it aside. "No, I can't afford to think that. For the prince's sake, for the kingdom, I must have faith in myself."

With renewed determination, she smoothed down her simple dress and made her way to the door. Just as she reached for the handle, a wave of fondness washed over her as she envisioned the prince's serene face.

"I'll find the way to wake you, my prince," she vowed quietly. "No matter how long it takes."

---

In the vast throne room, tension buzzed in the air like static electricity. King Aldric paced in front of his grand throne, his royal robes rustling with irritation. The vaulted ceiling felt heavy above him, making his crown seem like an unbearable weight.

"What do you mean, 'no change'?" he snapped, spinning to confront his chief advisor. "It's been three years, Cedric. Three years of the same news, every single day!"

Cedric, a wise man with gentle eyes, looked down. "Your Majesty, I understand your frustration. We've consulted every healer and sage in the realm—"

"Then we need to search beyond our borders!" The King's voice boomed, echoing against the stone walls. He took a deep breath to calm himself before speaking again, his tone softening with desperation. "My son, my heir... he can't remain like this indefinitely."

A younger advisor stepped forward, tentatively suggesting, "Sire, perhaps we should consider... alternative solutions. The kingdom needs—"

"The kingdom needs its prince!" Aldric interrupted, anger flashing in his eyes. "Don't talk to me about succession or politics. We're discussing my son here."

An oppressive silence filled the room. The King sank into his throne, suddenly revealing his fifty-five years. "Leave me," he commanded, his voice barely above a whisper.

As the advisors exited, Cedric lingered behind. "Your Majesty," he began gently, "you're not just a father; you're a ruler. The people look to you for strength."

Aldric met his old friend's gaze, conflict etched on his face. "And how can I provide strength, Cedric, when my own heart feels shattered?"

"By believing, sire. By holding on to hope," Cedric urged before bowing and leaving, leaving the King alone with his heavy thoughts.

With a distant gaze, Aldric stared at the empty throne beside him, where his son should be. "Oh, Dubois," he murmured, "if only I could see you open your eyes."

Just then, the heavy oak doors of the throne room creaked open, capturing everyone's attention. A hush fell over the gathered courtiers as a vision in emerald silk stepped inside, Thalia's entrance nothing short of captivating, her copper-red hair cascading in perfect waves, adorned with delicate golden leaves that shimmered with each graceful step.

King Aldric straightened in his seat, his tired expression shifting with intrigue. "My lady Thalia," he proclaimed warmly, "welcome to our court."

With a flawless curtsy, Thalia greeted him. "Your Majesty," she purred, her voice sweet as honey, "it's an honor to stand before you." As she rose, her jade eyes sparkled, seemingly connecting with everyone in the room.

Watching from the shadows, Jane felt a chill trickle down her spine. She observed as Thalia effortlessly captivated the court, her charm filling the air like a heady fragrance.

"I've traveled a long way," Thalia continued, addressing the King but projecting her voice for all to hear, "drawn here by stories of your kingdom's beauty... and its sorrow." Her tone dripped with practiced sympathy.

Jane tightened her grip on her simple gown. Something about Thalia's polished words and demeanor set off alarm bells in her mind.

"You're speaking of my son," the King remarked, leaning forward.

Thalia's eyes widened with feigned compassion. "Of course, Your Majesty. The tale of Prince Dubois has resonated far beyond your borders. I come to offer my... expertise, in both mystical and medicinal practices."

A low murmur spread through the court. Jane bit her lip, battling the urge to step forward and challenge this newcomer's claims. Instead, she kept her distance, observing as Thalia glided closer to the throne, her movements as smooth as a cat's.

"Your Majesty," Thalia said, lowering her voice to a more intimate tone that still carried, "I believe I might have insights that could aid in waking your son."

A glimmer of desperate hope sparked in the King's eyes, sending a pang of ache through Jane's heart. She recognized that look all too well from the countless nights she had spent at the prince's side.

"This sounds fascinating, Lady Thalia," chimed one of the King's advisors. "Could you elaborate on your... qualifications?"

With a dazzling smile, Thalia replied, "Absolutely. I've trained with healers from the Misty Isles and delved into the arcane libraries of the Cloud Cities..." Her words painted a vivid picture of exotic lands and mystical knowledge.

With each silky phrase, Jane's unease deepened. She had encountered similar claims from tricksters and well-meaning mystics before, but something about Thalia felt different—a core of determination masked beneath the charm, a flicker in her eyes that hinted at ambition lying beneath altruism.

"I must insist," Jane suddenly found herself saying, surprised at her own conviction, "that any treatment for the prince undergoes thorough vetting before—"

Thalia's gaze locked onto Jane's, and for a moment, irritation flickered across her flawless features. But it vanished just as quickly, replaced by a syrupy smile. "Of course, darling," she purred. "I would expect nothing less from someone so... devoted to the prince's welfare."

The emphasis on 'devoted' made Jane's cheeks flush. She held her ground, meeting Thalia's gaze with quiet determination. "The prince's well-being is my priority," she stated softly but firmly.

"As it is for all of us," Thalia smoothly replied, turning back to the King. "Your Majesty, I look forward to working closely with your esteemed healers. Together, I'm confident we can restore hope to this kingdom."

As excitement rippled through the court, Jane's resolve solidified. She would keep a watchful eye on Thalia, determined to protect the prince from any potential threats lurking behind the newcomer's beautiful facade.

The sun was low on the horizon, casting long shadows across the palace gardens as Jane strolled along the winding paths, seeking solace among the perfectly trimmed hedges and vibrant flower beds. The sweet scent of roses filled the air, a stark contrast to the unease roiling in her stomach.

"Ah, Lady Jane! What a delightful surprise," Thalia's voice chimed.

Jane turned, her heart racing as she spotted Thalia approaching, radiant in a gown of deep crimson. The newcomer's smile was stunning, every movement exuding grace.

"Lady Thalia," Jane replied, curtsying. "I hope you're finding the palace gardens to your liking."

Thalia laughed, a sound reminiscent of silver bells. "They're absolutely enchanting, though I must admit, not nearly as captivating as the tales I've heard about you, my dear."

Jane felt heat rising to her cheeks. "I'm afraid the stories have been exaggerated."

"Oh, I doubt that," Thalia said, linking her arm with Jane's as if they were old friends. "A humble farm girl, chosen by fate to care for our sleeping prince. It's positively enchanting."

As they walked, Jane felt the weight of Thalia's scrutiny, even amidst her sweet words.

"Tell me," Thalia said, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "have you made any progress in waking Prince Dubois? The poor King seems so... desperate for results."

Jane's stomach churned. "These things take time," she replied cautiously. "The prince's state is delicate—"

"Of course, of course," Thalia interjected, her hand patting Jane's arm. "And you've been incredibly diligent. But surely, after three years, there must have been some sign of hope?"

Jane swallowed hard, struggling to maintain her steadiness. "The prince is stable. That is itself a blessing."

Thalia's grip on Jane's arm tightened subtly. "Indeed. One can't help but wonder if perhaps... fresh perspectives might bring forth something new. A different approach, perhaps?"

Before Jane could respond, a distant bell tolled. Thalia's face lit up with carefully feigned excitement.

"Ah, dinner is almost upon us! We mustn't be late. Come, my dear, let's hurry to the dining hall."

As they hurried through the palace corridors, Jane's mind raced. Thalia's words echoed in her thoughts, laced with implications that filled her with unease.

The grand doors of the dining hall swung open, revealing a breathtaking scene. Elegant chandeliers draped in gold filled the long table with a soft, inviting light that shimmered off the shiny silverware and delicate china. Courtiers, dressed to impress, buzzed around, their lively chatter echoing through the room.

As Jane stepped in, she felt the weight of every gaze shift toward her, with Thalia still by her side. The mix of curiosity, speculation, and even a touch of pity in their eyes was almost overwhelming. She held her head high, drawing strength from the memory of her Prince's calm, serene expression.

"Stay strong, my dear," she whispered to herself, recalling her mother's words from years past. Carefully, she made her way to her seat, acutely aware of Thalia gliding gracefully toward the place of honor next to the King.

Once she settled into her chair, Jane caught the gaze of the old Lord Bartley at the far end of the table. The seasoned veteran gave her a slight nod, a flicker of solidarity shining through his cloudy eyes. It might not have seemed like much, but it gave her the boost she needed.

No matter what games Thalia had in mind or how she tried to sow seeds of doubt, Jane was ready to face whatever challenges lay ahead. She was doing it for herself, for the Kingdom, and for the Prince who lay still, waiting for the moment he would finally awaken.