The festive air thickened around Tuk as the warriors roared with laughter, their cups brimming with the strange, cloudy liquid she'd concocted. What had started as a simple drink to take the edge off the evening had spiraled into something far beyond her intent. One sip from a curious warrior had set off a wildfire of interest, and now, the tables were overflowing. They drank her "shembot" like it was mere juice, slamming their cups down and demanding more with boisterous enthusiasm.
Everywhere she turned, someone new was shouting her name, their voices rich with a reverence that was both flattering and utterly overwhelming. The heat of celebration pressed against her skin, pulling her into the chaotic rhythm of the night. For once, she allowed herself to bask in it—the camaraderie, the mindless joy, the fleeting illusion of belonging. Laughter rang in her ears, and though her concoction had been an accident, she felt—just for a moment—like she was home.
Hours later, Tuk staggered outside, the fresh night air slamming into her like a wave. The world tilted dangerously beneath her feet, her stomach a churning sea of fruit juice and liquor. She barely made it to the nearest bush before doubling over, retching miserably.
"Blurghhh..." she groaned, her body convulsing with the force of it.
Collapsing onto the cool grass, she let her head fall back, staring up at the full moon with glassy eyes. Its silver glow bathed her in cold indifference.
"Hey, Moon," Tuk muttered, her voice thick and slurred. "You've been watching all this, huh? Just hanging there, all perfect... while I'm down here in this mess."
She waved a clumsy hand at the sky, a bitter laugh bubbling from her throat.
"I'm stuck in a palace full of shitty royalty and men, and you... you're just... still there. Like nothing's changed. Glowing. I wish I could be like that. Unbothered. Untouched." Her voice cracked, and she laughed again, though this time it was hollow, more frustration than humor. "But no. I'm here. With no way out..."
The weight of it pressed down on her chest, thick as tar. The laughter, the drinks, the fleeting warmth of the evening—it all meant nothing. Reality had sharp edges, and now, they were cutting into her, piece by piece.
Her rant dissolved into drunken rambling—about her life, about her debt, about the absurdity of it all. She let out a crazed laugh, the sound sharp against the still night.
"Look at me!" she cackled, slumping against a gold-adorned bench like a drunken queen upon her throne. "I'm like a queen sitting on a gold chair. Wonder how much I could sell this for... Right, I can't even take this with me."
She laughed until her voice was hoarse, until the bitterness bled into exhaustion. The stars above remained indifferent, uncaring.
A familiar voice cut through the haze. "Tuk?"
She squinted, trying to focus on the approaching figure. The poised, elegant stride was unmistakable.
"Ah, our pretty boy head, Sire Leon!" she drawled, a lazy grin spreading across her face. "I'm just having a chat with Mr. Moon here."
Leon frowned. "You're drunk."
Tuk mumbled something incoherent, eyes still locked on the sky. "But he's not answering me..." Her voice was barely a whisper before she suddenly dropped her head onto the table with a dull thud.
Leon jolted. "H-Hey, are you okay?"
She shook her head, face buried in her arms. A shudder ran through her, and then—
"I miss my sister... Waaahhh!" Tuk's voice cracked as the sobs tore out of her, raw and unfiltered. Her strong exterior crumbled, the weight of everything she had been holding in spilling out in shaking gasps. "I just... I just want to be a stone..."
Leon hesitated, watching the way she curled in on herself, as if trying to disappear. His throat tightened. None of this was normal. None of this was fair.
He knelt beside her, voice softer than before. "Where's your family? You could ask His Highness to let you visit them. Even just for a day."
Tuk didn't respond right away. She stared off into the distance, her expression distant, haunted.
"I'm the only one here," she said finally, the words barely more than a breath.
Leon frowned. Something terrible must have happened. The loneliness in her voice was too heavy, too real.
"Did His Highness say something to you?" he asked, cautiously now.
She blinked, as if coming back to herself. The tears that had fallen freely moments ago seemed to retreat. A wobbly grin tugged at her lips.
"A lot... he said a lot, but... I forgot, hehe." The laugh that followed was empty, forced.
Leon smiled, but something gnawed at him. Something wasn't right.
"You should go inside and rest," he said, placing a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "I have to go now. I need to report to His Highness."
He stood, preparing to leave, but Tuk's voice, sharp and suddenly sober, stopped him in his tracks.
"Report... about me?"
Leon froze. Slowly, he turned back to her. The drunken haze in her eyes was gone, replaced by something sharper. Something dangerous.
The warmth from before had vanished, replaced by an unsettling silence.
Their eyes locked.
"So you knew," he muttered, his friendly facade slipping away.
Leon's expression darkened, his friendly facade slipping away. "So you knew," he muttered, as if they'd both been playing a game that had now come to light.
Tuk blinked a few times, her mind sluggishly trying to catch up to what Leon was saying. The haze of alcohol still clouded her thoughts, but something in Leon's voice sobered her up. Slowly, she pushed herself up from the table, the dizziness fading as suspicion sharpened her focus.
"It would be strange if I didn't," she said, her voice wavering at first but then steadying as the full weight of his words hit her. The drunken vulnerability was gone now, replaced by the Tuk who knew how to survive.
The longer Tuk stayed in the palace, the more the truth came into focus—especially concerning the prince. Bit by bit, as she listened to Leon's voice, the puzzle pieces clicked into place. His laughter, those fleeting moments of kindness—it was all a carefully constructed facade. Reassessing everything, she felt a chill of realization. She could sense the deception because she wore a similar mask herself.
Just as I thought, he's suspicious of me. But why? What's his true purpose here?
This confirmation settled over her like a cold shroud. She wasn't alone in hiding behind false expressions; everyone here was, including Leon. The realization sent a shiver through her. So that's why I'm surviving in this palace, she thought, the weight of understanding pressing down on her. She was surrounded by masks, each one more elaborate than the last—and now, she had to decide which side of her own to reveal.
Tuk's mind raced, her heart pounding as she tried to figure out her next move. She could feel the tension in the air, a reminder that one wrong step in this palace could spell her doom. She wasn't just dealing with one enemy—everyone here could be a threat.
"Stay calm," she told herself, her hands tightening into fists beneath the table. She would have to play this carefully, or risk losing everything.
Leon studied her in silence, the realization hanging between them. Now, as they locked eyes, Tuk had the unsettling feeling that Leon understood her just as well as she understood him. He took a step closer, his presence more imposing. "You've adapted well," he said quietly, his voice now cold and stripped of warmth. "But be careful, Tuk. Knowing too much in this place is... dangerous."
Tuk's pulse quickened. "Is that a threat?" she asked, her voice steady even as her heart raced.
Leon's lips curled into a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "A warning." He leaned in, his breath chilling against her ear. "I truly admire your capabilities, so consider it a favor for me."
The weight of his words lingered, suffocating. A chill crawled down Tuk's spine. "Then help me," she whispered, trying a new tactic. "Help me stop His Highness from assigning me as his advisor. I don't want to know too much—I just want to live quietly."
Leon's eyes narrowed, his gaze locking onto hers with unsettling intensity. For a moment, he was silent, as if weighing her words. Then, with a quiet, almost sinister chuckle, he leaned back slightly, his shadow stretching ominously in the moonlight.
"Oh, Tuk," he said softly, "in this palace, there's no such thing as living quietly."
Tuk's breath hitched, her mind racing. She had expected this, hadn't she? Yet, hearing it out loud felt like a door slamming shut, trapping her inside a game she was barely keeping up with.
Leon straightened, adjusting his coat as if the conversation had been nothing more than casual pleasantries. "If I were you," he added, his tone sharp, "I'd be very careful about which pieces you move next. The wrong step might be your last."
He turned on his heel, walking away without another word, leaving Tuk in the chilling silence. But before he disappeared into the shadows, he stopped, glancing back at her one last time.
"And remember, Tuk..." His voice was low, but it carried with it an unmistakable warning. "Not everyone here will give you the chance to choose a side."
Leon disappeared into the shadows, leaving Tuk alone with the weight of his warning pressing against her chest She clenched her fists, forcing herself to steady her breathing. Every instinct told her that she couldn't avoid this any longer—she had to act. But the thought of tracking down the princess and finding the key gnawed at her. How could she succeed where even the prince warriors had failed?
Her mind whirled, the hangover fading but her worries growing heavier. The realization hit her like a blade to the gut—survival wouldn't just require playing along. She would have to outmaneuver everyone, including the prince. Her eyes flicked toward the palace, the weight of her double life pressing down on her more than ever.
One wrong move, and her disguise, her survival, and her very identity would unravel. But maybe... Maybe there was another way.
Tuk rubbed her temples, a new thought sparking through the haze. If even Prince Michaelli couldn't find the key, maybe the key wasn't meant to be found or the princess itself really held the key?
Maybe, just maybe, she was already holding the piece of the puzzle. Her position as the prince's advisor was more than just a trap—it was her opportunity.
But could she risk it?
Tomorrow, she would have to choose carefully. After all, one wrong move, and she'd lose everything, including her life.