Chapter 29-30

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Chapter 29: The Thread Unraveling

The palace was alive.

Silks rustled through corridors, trays clattered in kitchens, guards barked orders at every gate. Nobles and tailors and staff buzzed like bees in a gilded hive—preparing for Princess Libertia's 18th birthday celebration.

And somewhere in that golden storm, the birthday girl sat quietly in a window seat, poking the lemon tart on her plate like it had personally offended her.

"…Boring," she whispered.

Across the courtyard, she could see Lucien talking with Crown Prince Alaric and a pair of architects. Aina strode past with Kaelen, both deep in arguments over flower arrangements and security placements.

Even Mama and Papa were swarmed with guests and schedules.

No one had time for her.

Tia pouted, pressing her cheek to the cool glass.

She didn't want another dress fitting. She didn't want to taste thirty kinds of wine she wasn't allowed to drink yet. She wanted—

Air. Noise. Life.

She wanted to see what the kingdom looked like when no one was bowing.

She grinned.

---

Twenty minutes later…

The Princess of Aetheria had vanished from her room.

In her place: a girl in a long faded cloak, hood up, hair braided and tucked into a loose scarf, boots dusted with powder to dull their shine.

She'd used one of the old service corridors Kaelen had shown her years ago—the one no one believed still worked.

She slipped out a maintenance gate while two guards argued over lunch rotations.

And just like that—

Tia was free.

---

Elsewhere — near the southern palace gates…

Jane Elowen adjusted her posture, arms folded, leaning against the shadow of a pillar.

She had been watching the palace all morning, her usual sweet smile missing.

Security was too tight. She couldn't get close.

But her patience was rewarded.

Because just before noon… she saw her.

A girl too graceful to be a maid. Too light-footed to be a soldier. Hood pulled too carefully. A flash of golden hair beneath the scarf.

Jane's eyes sharpened.

Tsk. Careless little thing.

She slipped her fingers into her sleeve and pressed a rune-stone embedded in her cuff. A soft click answered—it was a signal. Someone would receive it.

Then she took off quietly behind the girl—careful, precise.

The princess hadn't noticed.

Not yet.

---

Back with Tia — in the city

Tia's eyes sparkled as she walked through the market square.

Bards played flutes. A cart rolled by with candied nuts. Children laughed, chasing paper pinwheels. The scent of honey and clay filled the air.

She had only seen this part of the city from palace balconies. Never like this.

Never inside it.

She paused by a jewelry stall, then a fruit seller, wide-eyed and full of wonder.

The vendor smiled. "You lookin' for something, miss?"

"Just looking," Tia replied, voice soft, her noble accent barely tamed.

Behind her, a pair of guards walked past.

She pressed closer to the stall, feigning interest in apricots.

They passed without pause.

She exhaled. That was close.

---

Meanwhile…

Jane trailed her at a distance.

Watching.

Waiting.

Her hand brushed the small dagger at her waist—but not to use it. Not yet.

Why are you out alone, little royal? she thought. Are your brothers really that distracted?

She narrowed her eyes. Or… are you bait?

---

Tia wandered deeper into the market, her hood casting a gentle shadow over her cheeks—but not hiding the sparkle in her eyes.

Everything was so alive.

A boy with a wooden flute played a lively tune near the fountain, and a line of little children danced around him in messy circles. Someone tossed coins into his open hat.

Tia giggled, stepping aside just in time to avoid a runaway goose. A shopkeeper yelled after it, flailing wildly as the bird honked its triumph.

She hadn't even walked a full street when the scent of roasted chestnuts hit her.

Her stomach rumbled.

Without thinking, she walked up to the vendor, gazing at the small golden-brown treasures as he scooped them into little paper cones.

"One for you, miss?"

She hesitated. Then reached into the hidden pocket Kaelen had stitched into her cloak and pulled out a silver coin.

"Yes, please!"

The vendor grinned. "First time in the market, huh?"

"Is it that obvious?" she said, cheeks pink.

"You're smiling like it's a festival," he laughed. "That's rare 'round here."

She bit into the warm chestnut, eyes widening. "Mmm!"

"Careful," he chuckled. "Those things turn people into addicts."

---

She continued down the path, licking sugar off her fingers, sampling mango slices with chili salt, and a tiny clay cup of rosewater lassi so cold it made her eyes water.

A pair of girls sat on a bench weaving flower bracelets, and Tia shyly asked if she could buy one.

They blinked.

Then giggled and offered it for free.

"You can have it," one whispered. "You look like a fairy."

Tia blushed.

She wore the flower bracelet proudly, letting it swing gently as she walked.

---

At a stall with hand-painted fans, she paused to admire a delicate one shaped like a butterfly. Blue wings with gold flecks.

"You like it?" the artist asked, a middle-aged woman with inky-stained hands.

Tia nodded. "It's beautiful. Did you paint all of these?"

"Every one."

The princess looked down at her coin pouch. Only a few silvers left.

She handed one over. "I'll take this one. It reminds me of someone I love."

The woman wrapped it in paper, her smile soft. "Someone gentle?"

Tia paused.

"…Someone strong," she replied. "But they don't know it yet."

---

From the rooftops above,

Jane watched it all.

She crouched on the slanted tiles of a bakery, expression unreadable as the princess skipped from stall to stall, sugar dust on her sleeves, her laughter light as wind chimes.

Not a bodyguard in sight.

Not a whisper of disguise beyond a hood.

Just… innocence.

Jane narrowed her eyes.

Is this real?

She expected arrogance. Distance. Command.

But this girl… she was complimenting a child's drawing. Thanking vendors with too many words. Smiling with genuine joy.

Jane's grip on the roof edge loosened.

She didn't understand.

This girl is supposed to be… the enemy.

---

The sun had begun to dip lower, casting long shadows across the market streets.

Tia walked slower now, her arms full—a fan, a flower bracelet, a pouch of spices she wanted to gift Aina "just to tease her"—and a paper bird a little girl had insisted she take.

She didn't notice the shift in the air at first.

The way people began stepping aside. The way noise thinned.

Until she reached a quieter alley near the edge of the square—where the colors dulled, and the crowd grew older, rougher.

She paused.

Turned to go back.

But before she could move, a hand grabbed her arm and yanked her into the narrow space between two buildings.

"Ah!"

Tia stumbled, hitting the wall hard.

Three men stood before her. One behind her. All with eyes like wolves.

"Fancy cloak for a market girl," one sneered, dragging a blade slowly from his belt. "What do you think, boys? Noble brat slumming it?"

"Definitely smells like perfume," another chuckled.

"Let go of me," Tia said sharply, voice low.

"Oooh. She talks," the first man grinned.

They didn't expect what happened next.

Tia moved.

She slammed her knee up—hard—into the first man's stomach. Then twisted her arm free and shoved the second into the wall, using the momentum Aina had drilled into her over and over.

"Good," she muttered to herself, backing away. "Don't freeze. Move. Don't freeze."

But there were four.

She had no weapon.

And her boots weren't made for running.

Still, she ran.

---

She darted into the maze of alleys, weaving past carts and crates, breathing fast.

She knocked over a basket of apples, jumped a broken fence, turned sharply and doubled back. Two of the men lost her.

Two didn't.

She took another turn—and stopped short.

A dead end.

Tia backed up, eyes wide, breathing ragged.

The two remaining men approached slowly now, blades glinting in the low light.

"No more tricks, girl," one said. "We're tired of running."

Tia raised her fists. Trembling. But still standing.

"Come any closer," she said, "and I'll scream loud enough to bring the palace guard down on you."

The man smirked. "Too far for them to hear."

"Not me," said a voice behind them.

The men froze.

A blur moved through the shadows—and then one was down, clutching his arm with a cry. The other turned, swinging—

And was knocked flat by a boot to the face.

Tia blinked.

Jane stood in the alley, cloak swirling around her like smoke, eyes dark and furious.

"Amateurs," she muttered.

She turned to Tia, tossing her a short blade—curved and light.

"Use the butt end. You're not good with sharp tips yet."

"What—who are you?"

"No time. Focus."

The men were groaning, but not done. One got up again.

Jane lunged forward, her movements smooth and brutal—like she'd done this a hundred times. She didn't hesitate.

Tia followed, copying what Aina taught her—low hits, arm blocks, turning her size into speed.

Together, they brought the last two down.

Tia stood still, the last fight fading behind her like a bad dream.

She looked up at the girl who'd saved her—hood half-shadowing her sharp face, boots light, stance perfect. Someone trained. Someone dangerous.

But her blade was already sheathed. And she was turning to leave.

"Wait!" Tia called.

The girl paused.

Tia jogged forward and gently grabbed her wrist. "Please. Just wait."

The girl looked down at the hand, then at her.

"You alright?"

"Yes, thanks to you." Tia smiled. "You didn't have to help me, but you did. I'd like to thank you properly."

"I'm fine," the girl said, voice calm, detached. "You should be more careful."

"You have a name?" Tia asked, tilting her head.

"…Jane."

"Well, Jane, I think you're amazing. You fight better than most of the guards I know."

Jane's expression didn't change. But inwardly?

She knows the palace guards? Right—because she is the damn princess.

Still, she kept her face blank. "Lucky guesswork."

Tia giggled. "No way. You've got training. You're sharp. Brave, too."

Then, casually—disarmingly—she added, "You should come to my birthday."

Jane blinked. "…What?"

"My birthday party. In a few days."

"…Where?"

Tia smiled brighter. "At the palace."

Jane paused.

Her entire body tensed for a heartbeat—barely visible.

But inside?

The palace. Her birthday. She's inviting me in. She thinks I don't know who she is.

"…You live in the palace?"

Tia nodded, pleased. "Mmhm. I'm Libertia. But friends call me Tia."

Jane stared at her.

Then forced a small, awkward laugh. "A princess, huh. No wonder your boots were too clean for the street."

Tia laughed. "Is that your way of saying yes?"

Jane hesitated. But only for effect.

Inside, a thousand alarms were screaming.

But one voice—Lily's—was louder.

Get close to her. Twist her threads.

So she nodded.

"Sure. I'll come."

Tia's smile exploded like sunshine. "Great! I'll tell the guards. Just come to the back gate and ask for me."

Jane smirked faintly. "Wouldn't dream of barging in."

As Tia turned to find her way home, humming a little tune under her breath, Jane stood alone in the alley a while longer.

Her fingers flexed.

Her jaw tightened.

You're softer than I thought, princess, she thought. And now I'm walking into your garden with a knife behind my back.

---

Chapter 30: When the Sun Slipped Away

The palace was chaos.

Servants rushed through marble halls, breathless and pale. Guards scoured every courtyard, scanning shadows, questioning gatekeepers. The sun had begun to sink—and the Princess of Aetheria was gone.

No warning. No escort. No note.

The Empress stood frozen near the map table, her hands trembling.

The Emperor said nothing—his face carved in stone, but his knuckles white where they gripped the edge of the table.

Alaric had already sent two of his personal men to the city. Kaelen had nearly broken the stables door off its hinges. Even Lucien had abandoned his usual calm—eyes sharp, voice low and dangerous.

Until—

The main hall doors creaked open.

Lucien stepped in.

And beside him, cloaked in dusklight, face sheepish and dust on her boots—was Tia.

The Empress gasped.

Kaelen froze mid-step.

Even Alaric stiffened where he stood.

Lucien gently nudged her forward. "She's unharmed."

Seraphina was the first to move—crossing the room in seconds and pulling her daughter into her arms.

Tia blinked as her mother hugged her tight—tight enough to hurt.

"You little fool," the Empress whispered, voice thick with held-back tears. "What were you thinking?"

Tia opened her mouth, then closed it. She didn't have an excuse. Not a real one.

"I just… wanted to see the market," she whispered. "I was careful."

"You were gone," her mother said, cupping her cheeks, eyes wet. "You disappeared."

Tia's guilt twisted harder.

Then the Emperor approached.

She straightened instinctively.

Kael Ardentis looked at her—his golden daughter, the center of their sun—and for the first time in her memory, there was disappointment in his expression.

"You snuck out," he said quietly. "Past the guards. Past every measure we put in place to protect you."

Tia didn't speak.

"You didn't think to tell anyone?"

"…No."

Kael's voice remained calm—but it rang through the chamber like a blade.

"Do you think the palace is a cage? That we keep you here for fun? That the outside world has no teeth?"

Tia looked down.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I wasn't trying to cause trouble. I just… wanted to see what it was like. Just once."

No one interrupted.

Even Kaelen—usually quick to defend her—stayed silent this time.

Because she was wrong. And they all knew it.

The Emperor finally let out a long breath.

"…Don't ever do this again, Libertia."

She looked up. Eyes wide. And nodded.

"I won't."

"If you want to go outside," Alaric added from the side, his tone gentler, "ask one of us. Or Lucien. Or Aina. Don't disappear."

"Even I ask first," Kaelen muttered.

Lucien didn't speak, but his gaze stayed on her like a second heartbeat.

Tia smiled weakly. "Okay. Next time… I'll ask."

The Empress kissed her forehead again, still not letting go.

"You scared me," she murmured. "That's all. You scared me."

And Tia—wrapped in guilt and warmth and quiet relief—closed her eyes and whispered,

"I know."

---

Dinner was quieter than usual.

The grand table held steaming bowls of saffron rice, soft lentil stew, roasted vegetables brushed with butter, and warm flatbread. But the usual laughter was missing.

Tia sat between her mother and Kaelen, poking gently at her food.

Lucien stood behind her seat as usual—silent, calm—but his presence felt heavier tonight. Watchful.

Across the table, the Emperor finished his meal in thoughtful silence. Then finally looked toward his top advisor.

"Recall all search units," Kael said. "Let the city rest."

The advisor nodded immediately and left the hall.

Alaric exhaled slowly. "We'll triple the hall guards tomorrow. Quietly. No need to start rumors."

Seraphina reached over and refilled Tia's cup. "Eat a little more, darling."

Tia nodded and took a small bite—grateful. Guilty. Tired.

But alive.

And safe.

---

Beneath the palace, far below the flickering lanterns…

A narrow corridor pulsed with faint blue light. Its crystal-lined walls hummed with energy—ancient, steady, silent.

A lone figure moved through it swiftly. Hood up, eyes alert.

Jane.

She reached the glowing chamber and knelt, one hand on the smooth stone floor.

A moment later, the hidden panel opened with a soft hiss.

And Lily stepped forward.

Clothed in silver and shadow, eyes gleaming like polished glass.

"You returned," she said softly, almost sweetly.

Jane stood, her voice steady. "She snuck out. I followed her."

Lily raised a brow, curious.

"She went to the market. Alone. No guards. She ate street food, bought bracelets, smiled at random strangers."

"She smiled?" Lily's voice was amused. "How quaint."

"She got into trouble," Jane added. "Was nearly cornered. I helped her out."

Lily's eyes sharpened, but her tone stayed silky.

"And what did she say?"

"She thinks I'm just a street girl. Invited me to her birthday. In the palace."

That made Lily pause.

Then she stepped forward… and gently took Jane's hand.

"You did beautifully," she whispered. "Just as I hoped. That little fool trusts you already."

Jane shifted slightly. "She's not like I expected."

"She's dangerous," Lily snapped suddenly, voice breaking through the sweetness like a whip. "She plays the innocent. But her blood is poisoned. Her father's sword soaked this land in noble blood."

Jane said nothing.

Lily's eyes shimmered with sudden, trembling emotion.

"I had a family once too, Jane," she whispered, voice cracking. "A warm house. A mother who brushed my hair. A brother who dreamed of being a knight."

She turned, hiding her face—but not before Jane saw a single tear roll down her cheek.

"They were murdered. Burned in their sleep. By the same royal family that plays house in that marble palace."

Jane's brows drew slightly together. "…You never told me."

Lily looked back, voice soft again.

"I don't speak of it because it hurts. But I want justice. I want a world where girls like you don't have to kneel. Where no little sister loses her home to a tyrant's ambition."

She stepped closer, cupping Jane's face now.

"So go," she said gently. "Be close to her. Learn her. Watch her. I only want to protect the people from another tyrant in a golden dress."

Jane didn't pull away.

But something heavy stirred in her gut.

The girl from the alley didn't feel like a tyrant.

She felt like sunlight and scraped knuckles and soft thanks.

But this was Lily.

The one who saved her. The one who gave her a name. The only one who ever pulled her from the filth.

So she nodded.

"I understand."

"Good girl," Lily whispered, kissing her forehead like a blessing. "Soon, this empire will belong to the rightful."

---

The underground chamber fell quiet again.

Lily stood still, the crystal light bathing her pale skin in cold shimmer.

Jane had already bowed and walked away—her cloak fading into the shadows of the tunnel.

Outside, the air was cooler now.

Jane emerged from the hidden passageway into the stillness of night. The sky above was vast and deep, painted in silver and indigo.

She looked up at the moon.

And for some reason… she saw her.

Tia.

Smiling with jam on her lip, talking to street vendors like they were lifelong friends, holding Jane's hand like it meant something.

Jane crossed her arms.

"I don't get it…"

Tia wasn't supposed to be like that.

She wasn't supposed to be kind, or brave, or so… soft.

And yet—Lily wasn't wrong either.

The Lily who saved her. Who gave her purpose. The one who sat beside her when she was bleeding in the streets and whispered, "You're not nothing."

Jane closed her eyes.

"I don't know which one of you is real."

The wind stirred the trees above the palace walls.

She didn't know.

So she sighed.

And disappeared into the dark.

---

Back in the crystal chamber…

The silence cracked.

And Lily laughed.

It started slow. A little tremble. Then grew into a wild, rich, spine-chilling sound that echoed through the walls like something unholy.

She laughed until she had to grip the wall for support, tears streaking the edges of her lashes.

"That fool…"

She straightened up, smiling wide—like a doll cracked in just the right places.

"That stupid, perfect little princess…" she whispered. "Inviting the wolf into her nursery."

She walked slowly across the room, trailing her fingers along the wall.

"She smiled at my spy. Praised her. Fed her sweets. Invited her to the heart of the palace."

Her voice dropped to a purr.

"Oh Libertia, you sweet little idiot. I'll watch you fall from inside your own castle."

She turned toward the tunnel, her smile sharper than glass.

"The time has come."

Her whisper curled like poisonon the air.

"And soon… the royal family will be nothing but a story burned from the pages of history."

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