Manalova stormed into the throne room, fury written all over her face. Her movements were sharp and fast—she looked ready to explode.
"Draven… You've got to be kidding me! Care to explain what the hell just happened in the grand hall? What was that disgrace your precious daughter just pulled?"
"Enough with the noise," the king said, seated at his desk, flipping through documents related to the kingdom. He didn't bother to look up—he didn't need to. He could feel her rage like a storm about to break.
"Noise?! You think I'm the one causing trouble here? Wasn't it your classless daughter who started it all? What the hell was that supposed to mean, huh?! She blatantly spat on all our traditions!"
The king set the papers aside and buried his face in his hands like he had a pounding headache, while his wife paced around, livid.
"I said… stop."
She didn't. She kept ranting and circling the room. "Fine, fine! If she thinks she's some kind of wild horse, then I'll tame her. She either gets punished for what she did, or I'll throw her out… Yes, that's it. She's out. There's no place for her here."
Draven slammed his hand against the table. The sound echoed through the room, startling her. He rose, his eyes dark and dangerous.
He gripped her neck, his fingers tightening around it, making each breath harder… nearly impossible.
"This is my castle. And Asteria is my daughter. Touch her, and I'll end you. Don't even think about going near her," he said, teeth clenched, voice low and deadly.
He let go. She collapsed to the ground, gasping for air.
"B-but…?"
"Asteria came here to be with me, not to serve the kingdom. I won't force her to erase her identity just to stroke the egos of the ruling class. I don't care if you approve of her or not. I only care that she's happy. Is that clear?"
She got up with difficulty, using the wall behind her for support. Her head nodded slowly. "C-crystal."
This wasn't Draven. Not the Draven she knew. Not the one she loved. Not the man who'd never denied her a thing, who had never even raised his voice… Why now? Why like this?
She left, not bothering to close the door, her steps heavy with spite. Her eyes burned with raw hatred as she made a silent vow of vengeance.
"It's all because of her… Everything fell apart the moment she stepped foot in this castle."
After the chaos in the hall, Asteria finally shut the door to her new room and let out a breath like she'd been underwater. She dropped herself onto the couch, began untying her hair one ribbon at a time, and looked around the grand royal chamber that had been given to her.
"This is… a bit much," she muttered, stretching out and tossing an arm over her eyes like a child.
Just minutes later, the door creaked open quietly. Asteria peeked out from under her arm to see who it was: a petite girl with honey-colored almond eyes, short gray hair brushing her shoulders, and long, pointed ears covered in an array of earrings. She wore the Iskarava—a uniform denoting her rank as a servant in the kingdom of Elthera. (Each servant class had its own distinct attire.)
Asteria narrowed her eyes slightly. "Zakarion?"
(The Zakarions were considered the lowest class in the kingdom and were usually banned from entering the palace due to their reputation in the market circles. They were easily recognized by their distinct features—especially their long, drawn ears.)
The girl's voice was barely audible. "Y-yes. B-but I was promoted by one of the noble ladies… That's why I was allowed to serve here."
She stood frozen at the threshold, visibly anxious, like even her own shadow scared her. "I'm sorry… Is this a bad time? I'm Elara. I've been assigned to serve you."
Asteria propped herself up on one elbow. "Oh… No need to apologize. Come in."
"Y-yes, Lady Ast—uh, I mean… Asteria…"
Elara stepped in with nervous steps, carrying a small bag and a tools kit. She tried to appear composed, but Asteria could feel the tension in the air like thick smoke.
"Just Asteria, no 'lady,' no 'your highness,' none of that nonsense…" she said lazily, reaching for a glass of water. Then added with a playful smirk, "Or I might start believing I actually am the new queen."
Elara blushed, bowing her head shyly. "Understood… Asteria."
"Much better." Asteria smiled, then gestured toward the chair across from her. "Sit down. No need to stand there like you're waiting to be punished."
Elara obeyed silently and began unpacking Asteria's things.
"How old are you?" Asteria asked, watching her delicate hands.
"Twenty-two."
"Have you worked here before?"
"Yes. For about a year. I was with one of the court ladies… but she left."
"I'm sorry to hear that."
They sat in silence for a moment before Asteria leaned a bit closer. "Want me to help you?"
Elara looked up, startled. "No—no, I mean… this is my job, miss. Honestly, if someone heard you say that, I'd probably be punished."
Asteria blinked in confusion. "I don't get it. What did I say that could get you punished?"
Elara gave her a matching confused look, then replied softly, "Miss… You haven't read the palace rules yet, have you?"
Asteria glanced away indifferently. "Not interested."
Elara smiled faintly, charmed by her mistress's rebellious nature. "Don't worry. I'll explain everything once I finish unpacking. But for now, all you need to know is—you're a princess here. So act like one."
"Soooooo boring… Fine. I'll take a nap. Wake me up when you're done."
"Yes, ma'am."
That night, the sky wore black like mourning. Wind lashed against the trees like a madwoman's screams. In a distant, dim wing of the palace, Manalova sat by a wide window, staring outside with glassy, lifeless eyes—eyes full of venom.
"Asteria…" she whispered her name like it tasted bitter. "You'll regret ever setting foot in this castle. I'll tear down your pride, piece by piece."
She stood slowly, her steps precise. She walked to an old wardrobe hidden behind a curtain and pulled out a small box, coated in years of ash and dust. She blew on it gently. Opened it.
Inside: An ancient scroll. A dagger etched with an old family crest. And a pair of black-gold earrings—rumored to have belonged to her exiled mother.
"If you think the king can protect you… you don't know the first thing about me… . "
"I did not clear the path to the throne from the women before me with tears."
Her eyes blazed with an unquenchable fire—the fire of a woman who had never learned to lose. She placed the earrings in her ears as if donning her intentions, then tucked the manuscript into her inner pocket, gripping the dagger as if clutching a promise.
"Astria… you're alone in this palace, and every path will be shut before you… I swear on my soul, I will make everyone hate you as much as I do."
She left the room, melting into the darkness of the corridors like the shadow of an ancient curse, creeping toward Astria's wing.