****
The road stretched endlessly, winding through forests that gave way to golden plains. For days, the twins had traveled with Zhao Lian at their side, their small party carrying only the essentials. Each step took them farther from the safety of their mother's palace — and deeper into lands that smelled of smoke, trade, and secrets.
"Are we close?" Yin Shu asked for what felt like the fifth time that morning. Her bright eyes scanned the horizon, bouncing with anticipation as if she had never walked such a long journey in her life.
Mo Yao, walking beside her, didn't answer immediately. Her gaze was sharper, fixed on the faint outline of walls rising in the distance. Unlike her twin, who let wonder guide her steps, Mo Yao's mind catalogued every ridge, every shadow. "Almost," she finally said. "The kingdom's gates are ahead. Keep your voice down."
Zhao Lian chuckled softly, shifting the pack on his back. "You sound more like a general than a princess, Mo Yao."
"And you sound like someone who has never entered a foreign court," she retorted, but her lips twitched in a smirk.
By the time they reached the gates, the afternoon sun painted everything in molten gold. The Kingdom of Dawn's Veil was unlike anything they had seen before. Its walls were carved with delicate patterns of cranes and lotus blossoms, shimmering faintly as if they had been polished with light itself. The air was thick with the aroma of spices — cinnamon, star anise, something floral that Yin Shu inhaled with delight.
Inside, the city unfurled like a living painting. Lanterns swayed in the breeze, merchants cried out prices in a dozen different dialects, children ran barefoot chasing bright paper kites. Yin Shu's face glowed as she took it all in.
"This place is alive!" she exclaimed. Without hesitation, she grabbed Zhao Lian's hand and pulled him toward a row of stalls glittering with colored silks. "Come on! Let's look!"
Zhao Lian barely had time to protest before being dragged into the crowd, his awkward attempts to keep balance making several passersby laugh. Yin Shu only laughed with them, her joy infectious.
Mo Yao, however, remained still. Her sharp eyes scanned the rooftops. Something — a flicker of movement — caught her attention. A figure, cloaked in dark fabric, crouched on the tiled roof above a spice stall. For the briefest moment, their eyes met: cold, unreadable, like a shadow given form. Then the figure vanished.
Her fingers twitched toward the dagger hidden in her sleeve. "We're being watched," she murmured, mostly to herself.
But the crowd pressed forward, swallowing the moment.
***
Later, the three of them paused at a square where healers in white robes tended to the sick and poor. Yin Shu slowed, her laughter softening into curiosity. She knelt beside a little boy whose scraped knee was being bound with a strip of linen.
The healer fumbling with the bandage was not much older than they were — tall, with gentle hands that didn't quite match his clumsy movements. When the cloth slipped again, the child giggled, and the young man flushed bright red before smiling sheepishly.
"Hold still," he said, voice warm despite his awkwardness. "I'm better with fevers than knees."
Yin Shu laughed softly at the sight. There was something about the healer — an unpolished kindness, like sunlight cutting through morning fog. She wanted to step closer, but Mo Yao tugged her sleeve.
"Don't wander," Mo Yao said firmly, her tone sharp. "We're strangers here."
"I know," Yin Shu replied, but her eyes lingered on the healer a moment longer before following her sister.
****
By nightfall, they were escorted into the palace of Dawn's Veil. Its halls glittered with silk curtains and jeweled lanterns, each corner filled with guards whose smiles never reached their eyes. The ruler of the kingdom, a man draped in pale gold, welcomed them with measured politeness.
"Princesses of the Twilight Lotus," he said smoothly. "Your presence honors us."
Mo Yao bowed slightly, her face unreadable. Yin Shu offered a smile, too bright for the chilly atmosphere. Zhao Lian simply shifted uncomfortably, clearly aware that every gaze in the room carried a weight he didn't understand.
Behind the silken curtains, whispers moved like smoke. Servants exchanged glances. A court advisor leaned too close to the ruler's ear.
Mo Yao's stomach tightened. This was no ordinary welcome.
As the night deepened, music filled the hall — but outside the balcony, the rooftops shifted with shadows again. The figure she had seen earlier lingered there, unseen by all but her. Watching. Waiting.
And for the first time since leaving home, Mo Yao felt the threads of fate tighten around them.
'what is this feeling '. She thought.