Jacinta gazed out of the carriage window, her golden eyes taking in the sights of the bustling capital. Children with grimy hands offered wilted flowers to passersby. Beggars crouched along the streets, their hands outstretched in silent pleas. In the shadows of the alleyways, the forgotten and the desperate lingered.
Yet, amidst the poverty, life thrived. Vendors called out their wares, their voices blending into the hum of conversation. Patrons haggled over prices, coins clinking. Workers rushed past, their footsteps hurried, while others strolled leisurely, savoring the morning air.
"Stop that thief!"
The shout shattered the routine bustle. Two knights charged down the street, hot on the heels of a man whose ragged cloak whipped behind him. As he dashed past the carriage, Jacinta caught a glimpse of his pale pink eyes — a fleeting moment of defiance meeting her steady gaze.
"A thief?" Edina frowned, clutching the edge of her seat. "I hope the knights catch him."
Jacinta didn't respond right away. Her expression remained serene, as though the chase had been nothing more than a ripple in the day's monotony.
"Once the war with the Asterians is over, our eldest siblings will have more time to focus on the empire's growth," she finally said, her voice low and contemplative. "But even then, this… will not vanish so easily."
She gestured slightly to the streets, where the world carried on, indifferent.
"A small kingdom or a modest territory — those can be managed. Controlled. But an empire?" Jacinta's lips curved into a faint, knowing smile. "I have yet to read of one where the sun reaches every dark corner."
"Yes," Edina replied, though she could only agree, unsure if she truly understood the Princess's words.
***
At moments like this, memories from years ago stirred in Edina's mind — the first time they had stepped beyond the palace walls. Jacinta was only eight years old, accompanied by her sisters, Judith and Judea, on a visit to the cathedral with the empress to offer prayers.
After the service, the princesses went ahead to a small restaurant a few streets away. It was supposed to be a simple outing, but the world outside the palace had other lessons to offer.
Judith's wide eyes filled with tears the moment she saw the beggars lining the streets — frail figures in tattered clothes, their hands trembling as they reached out for alms. Judea, ever composed, knelt beside her younger sister and explained the harsh reality. Some of these people might not have eaten for days. Others had no home to return to.
Unable to ignore their suffering, Judea took the lead. She gathered what food she could, passing it to the beggars with soft words of comfort. Judith followed suit, her sorrowful tears replaced by a small sense of purpose. For a fleeting moment, they resembled the kind-hearted princesses of fairy tales — the ones who, sheltered within palace walls, only needed a glimpse of the world's pain to act with pure-hearted generosity.
But then there was Jacinta.
She stood apart, golden eyes unreadable beneath her mask of composure. Not a single step forward. Not a word of protest. Only the distant gaze of someone who saw the same suffering yet seemed untouched by it.
Edina used to think Princess Jacinta was cold, distant — a girl who didn't care for her people because she stood above them. But Jacinta was only a child then. Edina believed that, with enough guidance, the princess could grow into a compassionate ruler.
"Princess Jacinta, why don't you join your sisters and help give food to those people?" Edina encouraged, expecting the young girl to follow suit. But Jacinta's response wasn't what she had expected.
"They've eaten now, and that's good," Jacinta said, her tone calm and matter-of-fact. "They'll survive another day with full bellies. But what about tomorrow? And the days after that? Once we're gone, who will feed them then?"
Edina was left speechless. At just eight years old, Jacinta had voiced a question that most adults wouldn't dare to ask.
"The priests said they offer food, water, and clothes to the homeless at the back of the cathedral every morning and afternoon," Jacinta continued. "The people my sisters are helping — they must know that. So why are they still here? Why do they keep begging?"
Even now, Edina couldn't answer. That question had haunted her through the years. And sometimes, she wondered if Jacinta still carried it with her too.
But someone else had offered an answer back then — Nanny Giselda, the woman who had cared for the three princesses like her own daughters.
"People beg for different reasons,," Nanny Giselda had said gently. "But if they're given more than just food — a chance to learn, a way to earn — then perhaps one day, they won't have to beg for the kindness of others. With their own hands, they can find a way to survive."
***
"Jacinta!"
Edina's thoughts scattered as the carriage halted before the towering palace gates. Awaiting them were Princess Judith and Princess Judea, their elegant figures framed against the sunlit stone.
Jacinta stepped down gracefully, her smile soft but unreadable. "Judith, Judea."
"We haven't seen you for three days!" Judith exclaimed, brows furrowing. "Where have you been all this time?"
"And how are you feeling now?" Judea added, concern flickering in her eyes.
Jacinta's smile lingered. "I'm enjoying life a little more, now that I'm not confined to my room." She held up a small, ornate box. "I brought cake. Let's eat together in my room."
"Cake?" Judith's face lit up as she eagerly grabbed Jacinta's hand. "Then let's go, quickly!"
Judea chuckled, shaking her head as she followed. The warmth of the moment masked the questions swirling beneath the surface.
Edina trailed behind, her gaze lingering on Jacinta. It was true — ever since her recovery, the princess had been noticeably busy. Letters exchanged, whispers traded. She had even entrusted four sealed letters to Edina, each bound for a different recipient.
But what troubled Edina most was that she had rewritten those very letters. She knew their contents. Every word.
And now, a new thought gnawed at her.
Has Jacinta sent the same letters to Judith and Judea?
Four events. All destined to unfold within a month.
"The ability to foresee the future."