A Moment of Peace

The warmth of the bath seeped into Elara's aching muscles, melting away the exhaustion from her earlier training session. Her body sank deeper into the water, the steam curling around her face like a delicate veil. Lavender and chamomile filled the air, soothing her frayed nerves. She let out a long sigh, eyes half-lidded as she tilted her head back against the porcelain edge.

This was exactly what she needed.

The water rippled gently as she shifted, trailing her fingers along the surface. Tiny beads of moisture clung to her skin, catching the soft glow of the candlelight flickering around the room. It was almost *too* peaceful, a stark contrast to the absolute disaster that had been today's training.

Her mind replayed the moment she had completely malfunctioned in front of Sir Kaelen.

Elara groaned, sinking lower into the water until only her eyes and the top of her head remained above the surface.

She had read so many romance novels and manhwa, yet the second a real man-who just so happened to be devastatingly handsome-stood too close, she crumbled like poorly constructed architecture.

'I am an idiot.'

The heat in her cheeks had nothing to do with the bathwater.

Still, no use dwelling on it now. She had dinner with her family soon, and if she showed up looking like a wilted flower, her mother would definitely notice.

Reluctantly, she reached for the cloth beside the tub, running it over her arms and shoulders before pulling herself out of the bath. A cool draft kissed her damp skin, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine. Almost immediately, a maid stepped forward with a thick towel, wrapping it snugly around her.

"Princess, shall we prepare your attire for the evening?" the young woman asked, her tone soft and practiced.

Elara nodded, allowing the maids to guide her through the familiar routine. They worked with precision, drying her hair with gentle hands before leading her to the vanity. She watched in the mirror as they brushed through her locks, weaving them into an elegant half-up style with delicate golden pins.

Her gown for the evening was laid out on a nearby chair-a deep blue silk dress embroidered with silver threads, its bodice fitted and the skirt flowing like water with every movement. The maids carefully slipped it over her shoulders, tightening the laces at the back until it hugged her figure comfortably.

She took a slow breath, adjusting the sleeves.

The girl in the mirror looked every bit the noble princess she was expected to be.

But the weight of her secret-the knowledge of what was to come-pressed heavily on her chest.

---------------------------------------------------

The palace corridors stretched ahead in quiet grandeur, the golden glow of lanterns casting long shadows against the polished marble floors. Her slippers made barely a sound as she walked, her hands idly smoothing the fabric of her gown.

Her mind was still wandering over the events of the day when she turned a corner and nearly collided with a broad figure.

Elara stumbled back, blinking up in surprise-only to feel her stomach drop.

Sir Kaelen.

The soft light from the lanterns traced the sharp planes of his face, illuminating the contrast between his dark hair and piercing gray eyes. His uniform was impeccable, the navy and silver embroidery marking his status as a knight of the royal family. He carried himself with quiet authority, his gloved hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword.

Elara immediately forgot how to function.

Kaelen, ever composed, merely inclined his head in greeting. "Your Highness."

Elara's brain scrambled for a response. 'Say something normal. Anything.'

"Uh. H-Hello."

Kaelen's brows lifted ever so slightly. "Are you feeling unwell?"

Yes. No. Maybe.

She was about to force out some excuse, but before she could, another voice cut in.

"There you are, Elara!"

Adrian.

Her younger brother approached with hurried steps, his dark silver hair slightly tousled from whatever mischief he had been up to. His golden eyes, a mirror of their father, flicked between her and Kaelen with mild curiosity.

"Elara, come on. Mother and Father are waiting," Adrian said, his tone impatient but not unkind.

Elara shot Kaelen a quick nod-possibly the most awkward nod in existence-before brushing past him to join Adrian.

Kaelen remained where he was, watching them go, his expression unreadable.

As soon as they turned the corner, Adrian smirked. "What was that?"

"What was what?" she replied, feigning ignorance.

Adrian let out a low chuckle. "You're acting weird."

"You're weird," she shot back, though the heat in her cheeks betrayed her.

Adrian only laughed, clearly enjoying her suffering.

---------------------------------------------------

The royal dining hall was a masterpiece of opulence, its high ceilings adorned with golden chandeliers that bathed the room in a soft, inviting glow. A grand table stretched through the center, its polished surface reflecting the flickering candlelight.

Emperor Theron and Empress Lyra were already seated at the head of the table, their presence commanding yet warm.

Elara took her seat beside Adrian, smoothing out the folds of her dress as the servants began bringing out the evening's meal.

"How was training?" their father asked, glancing between them.

Adrian grinned. "Great. Elara had a particularly fun session today."

Elara shot him a glare. "It was fine."

Theron chuckled, taking a sip of his wine. "I see. And what about Sir Kaelen? I heard he joined the training."

Elara definitely choked this time.

Lyra, who had been watching quietly, tilted her head with a knowing smile. "He did, didn't he?"

Elara refused to engage. Instead, she focused intensely on cutting her food, as if it held the secrets of the universe.

The conversation continued in its usual rhythm, laughter and stories filling the space between bites. Her father spoke of court matters, her mother teased Adrian about his tutors, and Adrian, in turn, dramatically complained about them.

It was warm. Familiar.

But as Elara watched them, a heaviness settled in her chest.

Because she knew.

She knew what was coming.

She knew that this laughter, this warmth-it would fade into grief. That her father, the man who sat before her now, healthy and strong, would soon fall victim to the curse.

Her vision blurred before she even realized she was crying.

"Elara?"

Her mother's voice was soft, but concerned.

She blinked, startled, as warmth trickled down her cheek.

"Elara, what's wrong?" her father asked, his brows furrowed.

Adrian had stopped eating, his earlier teasing completely gone. "Are you sick?"

She hadn't even noticed.

The tears had come so suddenly, spilling over before she could stop them.

Panic seized her chest. 'They can't know. They can't know what I know.'

She forced a shaky smile. "I-I think I'm just tired. Training really wore me out today."

It was a poor excuse, but they didn't press.

Her mother reached out, brushing her hair back with gentle fingers. "You should rest then."

Elara nodded. "I think I will. Excuse me."

Her father's gaze lingered on her, unreadable, but he nodded. "Good night, my dear."

With a quiet farewell, she left the hall, her chest still tight with unspoken words.

---------------------------------------------------

Back in her chambers, Elara sat on the edge of her bed, hands resting on the silken sheets, staring at her reflection in the ornate mirror across the room. The flickering candlelight cast uneven shadows on her face, making her expression seem even more unfamiliar to her own eyes.

The girl who gazed back at her was no longer just Princess Elara, the sheltered noble of the empire. She was someone else now-someone with knowledge that no one else possessed. Someone burdened with the weight of the future.

Her fingers curled slightly against the fabric of her dress, tightening into a fist.

Her father wasn't just a character in a story anymore.

Neither was her mother. Nor Adrian.

They were real-so painfully real. She had shared a meal with them, laughed with them, seen the way her father's eyes crinkled at the corners when he smiled, how her mother's voice softened whenever she spoke to her children, how Adrian, for all his playful teasing, was fiercely protective of his family.

They weren't just words on a page. They weren't just fleeting moments she could observe from a distance.

This was her family.

And she was going to lose them.

Elara swallowed hard, her breath hitching as the reality of it settled deep in her bones.

Her father, Emperor Theron, the man who sat at the head of the empire with unwavering strength, was destined to die. The curse that lurked in the shadows of history was creeping closer with each passing day, waiting to strike.

She had read it all before. She knew how it would unfold. The gradual decline, the sleepless nights filled with worry, the empire's unrest as their leader's health withered away. And in the end-

She squeezed her eyes shut, shaking her head as if she could physically push the thoughts away.

No.

She refused to let that happen.

Elara's eyes snapped open, determination solidifying in her gaze.

The story would not play out the same way.

Not if she had anything to say about it.

She would not stand idly by, waiting for fate to deal its cruel hand. She would not be the helpless princess trapped in the pages of a predetermined script.

If the world wanted her father to fall, she would fight against it.

If fate had already set its course, she would carve a new path with her own two hands.

But what could she do?

She was just a noble girl-trained in etiquette and embroidery, not in battle or politics. She had no influence over the empire's affairs, no standing in court beyond being the emperor's daughter. She was nothing more than a piece on the board, meant to play her role and watch from the sidelines.

But that wasn't who she was anymore.

The knowledge she carried-the truth of what was to come-was her greatest weapon.

She had time. Not much, but enough.

She could prepare.

She could train.

She could change things.

Elara exhaled slowly, placing a hand over her chest as she steadied herself.

She had spent her past life avoiding reality, escaping into stories of heroes and heroines who fought against impossible odds.

Now, she was in one of those stories.

And she refused to be a side character in her own fate.

She would become stronger.

No matter what it took.