"Your Majesty?"
I mumbled in a puzzled tone, hastily making my way back to the Gala Hall. "Why is he here? His Majesty never attends such feasts."
I stepped towards the lively and gleeful Gala Hall when a white, smoky silhouette blocked my path. The lively atmosphere of the Gala Hall was instantly veiled in a thin mist, blurring my vision. A sweet fragrance—something akin to wildflowers—drifted through the air, making me feel lightheaded.
Silence. A strange, unsettling silence. The melodious piano and the cheerful voices of the guests gradually faded, drowning me in an eerie stillness. My voice wavered with confusion and unease as I murmured in a shaky voice while taking slow steps forward, "What is this? Who is there—hidden behind the smoke?"
"What a pity! Has Your Highness truly forgotten me?"
A thin, childlike voice answered promptly. A dark figure emerged from the swirling mist, stepping closer. He was of my height, his pale and slender frame draped in a flowing black cloak. His long white hair cascaded over his back, and his dark, piercing eyes studied me—amusement dancing within them.
His face was that of a boy no older than thirteen or fourteen, yet his voice carried a sharpness that seemed to cut through my very soul. Taking my hand, he brushed his lips against the back of it in a courteous bow.
"Greetings, Your Highness. A pleasure to finally meet you." He paused as a mysterious smile was playing on his lips. "Royal Wizard Murphy, at your service."
I forced an uneasy smile, hastily responding, "Forgive me, I did not recognize you at first. I was not expecting the Royal Wizard himself to grace me with his presence."
I had heard of the Royal Wizard and their magical power from Viola but I had always dismissed him as nothing more than a fortune teller of that Era. History made no mention of true magic, leading me to believe it was merely the superstition of the past.
Yet now, standing before him, my modern logic wavered. Just moments ago, I had been at the entrance of the Gala Hall. Now, I felt as though I had stepped into another realm—one created from mist and illusion, as if I were floating amidst the clouds.
"Pardon me for startling you, Your Highness."
Murphy was still holding my hand gently as he added in that childlike, sweet voice, "I couldn't suppress the urge of meeting you. Your Aura- Your Aura has changed so much, Your Highness."
"My Aura! Can you feel it?"
I felt a warmth, running through my veins as his grip tightened around my hand. It was a disturbingly pleasing sensation. I instinctively tried to pull back my hand but Murphy stopped me, "Wait! Give me a few more seconds."
I asked in a puzzled tone, "What are you doing, Mister Wizard? Are you applying some kind of magic on me?"
His soft and childish giggle filled the fragrant air around us as he nodded his head playfully, "Yes, My Princess. I am trying to heal your soul as much as I can so that you can make your decision wisely."
"Is my soul injured?"
"Yes, Princess. So injured that even all my magic cannot heal it," Murphy replied in a grave tone. Then, letting go of my hand, he added gently, "Do not be afraid, Your Highness. Your soul will heal—with the touch of the right person. This time, you must heal yourself to heal this Era."
"Who is the right person? Can I truly trust anyone?"
I sighed. "It seems they all want to kill me. I don't know—"
He interrupted, his voice grave and firm, "Your Highness, only a soulmate can heal a soul." He sighed, "You must not make the same mistake this time. We are counting on you."
"Wait! Wait!"
I asked desperately, "What kind of mistake? A soulmate? How will I recognise-"
Before I could say another word, he vanished into thin air. Only a few words lingered in the mist,
"Follow your heart, Princess. The mind may forget, but the heart always remembers."
In an instant, the mist faded away, revealing the vast Gala Hall before me. The soft piano tune was still floating in the air, but the excited voices had turned into hushed; I could still hear the curious whispers.
I hastily stepped inside the hall to find—His Highness King Orville was standing in the center, along with Queen Elena and his Chief Minister. As the Chief Minister unfolded the royal scroll, he proclaimed, "Ladies and gentlemen, I hope you are enjoying the dinner party. His Majesty has arrived to deliver joyous news for the Kingdom of Zahava tonight, making you all the witnesses of a glorious moment."
'Good news? What kind of good news?'
'It must be something important. Why else would both the King and Queen appear together?'
Another voice whispered, 'They must be about to declare the Crown Heir tonight.'
Weaving my way through the excited and curious gatherings of guests, I finally reached the heart of the hall where the royal trio stood on the stage.
The Chief Minister paused as murmurs rippled through the crowd in response to his brief declaration.
Suddenly, a smooth and familiar voice whispered by my ear, sending a chill down my spine. "My, my... why do you look so nervous, Ara?"
"Prince Dior!"
I spun around, startled by his sudden closeness. Dior was standing just behind me. Frowning, I muttered, trying to suppress my annoyance, "You look awfully confident. Let's see if you're still smiling when the announcement is made."
His fingers suddenly grazed the back of my neck- cold, deliberate. I flinched as his breath warmed my earlobe. My body instantly shivered in disgust and uneasiness.
"No matter what the announcement is," he murmured, his voice silk and steel, "I will have you... and the throne of Zahava. You belong to me only, Ara. Don't forget your responsibility. Your only duty should be to satisfy me."
I swiftly stepped back, my eyes narrowing with quiet fury.
"Mind your tongue, Dior. I am your elder sister and the princess of Zahava—not some toy of your silly, childish game."
Dior's low, mysterious chuckle only deepened my irritation. I stepped away from him hastily, forcing my gaze back to the stage. But my vision began to blur, a storm of emotions surging within me.
****
Something was wrong.
The moment his fingers touched the back of my neck, my body reacted in a way I couldn't control—unfamiliar, unsettling.
Fragments of memories of Princess Aralia's childhood flooded my mind. His touch had awakened something within me. I closed my eyes, trying to steady my breath. But even in darkness, I could see it; I could see him.
Little Dior, laughing along with a few other children. They were playing with him in the vast royal garden, their giggles and voices echoing like a distant lullaby– so familiar, yet totally unknown. While weaving his hand towards me, a kid with bright blue eyes screamed, "Sister, come here. I have made a garland for you."
His bright and innocent smile filled my heart with an unknown emptiness.
I blinked in utter astonishment.
The scene vanished in an instant.
A searing ache stabbed through my chest, followed by a wave of fear—raw and suffocating.
I was standing in the middle of the lifeless bodies of those children. Their blood pooled at my feet, warm and thick. I trembled, tears streaming down my cheeks as the scent of iron and death clung to the air.
And there he was.
Little Dior was sitting at the top of the pile of those corpses like a king. His sapphire eyes glinted with eerie pride and satisfaction.
He held a delicate garland of roses in his blood-tainted hands, and with an affectionate smile, he whispered,
"Ara... Look at these roses. They are as beautiful as you." Raising his hand, he signed me to come closer, "I will make this garland for you only. Because- I love you the most…'
*****
It was hard to breathe. The metallic scent of blood was choking me as I tried to shake away those frightening memories. I forcefully opened my eyes and found myself again in front of the stage where the Chief Minister was still declaring something.
His voice felt so distant and low.
"... after considering all the opinions of the council and discussing with the Royal wizard, His Royal Majesty has decided to honour Princess Aralia with the title of the Crown Heir for her prudent and valiant nature. May the Sun never set in Zahava."
The voices of the guests filled the hall in chorus-
"Long Live His Majesty!"
"May the sun never set in Zahave!"