The door creaked softly as Prince Sion stepped out of his room. His presence brought with it a coldness that clung to the walls of the hallway like a winter mist. He moved with quiet authority, his steps deliberate, and behind him, his loyal guard and friend, Bernard, followed, his boots making no sound despite his considerable weight.
The hallway was dimly lit, the flickering sconces lining the walls creating patches of light and shadow that danced across the richly embroidered tapestries.
At the far end of the hallway, standing rigidly upright, was Felix, a young palace guard freshly assigned to this wing. The sword at his waist still looked too heavy for his slim frame, and the helmet he wore sat slightly crooked.
His hands were clasped tightly behind his back, and his brows were drawn in nervous anticipation. Despite being terrified of the first prince—Rumored to have a dark background, and known for his ruthlessness, unpredictability, and piercing gaze—Felix had always dreamed of serving under him. He had been over the moon when he was assigned to the east wing, instead of the west wing where the second prince resided.
As Sion drew closer, Felix's back straightened even further, and the moment Sion reached him, Felix bowed deeply, almost folding in half.
"Your Highness," he began, his voice trembling slightly, "your father requests to have a meeting with you and the entire family."
Sion narrowed his eyes at the guard, the faintest crease appearing between his brows.
"Right now?" he asked, his voice a low, rumbling thing that echoed slightly in the hallway.
Felix shook his head quickly, lifting his gaze but not quite meeting the prince's eyes. "No, Your Highness. The meeting is scheduled for seven o'clock this evening. It will take place during the general dinner."
Sion's frown deepened. "Then why are you telling me this now?"
The young guard paled and fumbled for an answer. "I—I saw that you were stepping out, Your Highness. I did not know when you would be back, and I thought it was my duty to inform you, in case…"
"In case I don't return?" Sion interjected, his tone sharp and accusatory. His eyes narrowed into thin slits, gleaming like two blades in the dim light.
Felix's heart nearly stopped. "What? No! Your Highness, I—I would never think that! I was only—"
"Look me in the eye," Sion commanded, his voice flat.
With dread tightening his chest, Felix lifted his eyes and met the prince's gaze. For a long moment, there was only silence. Then, to Felix's complete confusion, Sion's lips curled into a smirk.
"I was only kidding, Felix," he said, his tone abruptly light. "I'll be back before the meeting."
Without another word, he turned and continued down the hall, his cloak billowing slightly behind him. Bernard trailed him silently until they exited the East Wing and emerged into the open air of the palace courtyard. A black vehicle, sleek and polished to a mirror shine, awaited them at the parking lot.
Bernard walked around to the driver's seat and got in while Sion opened the passenger door and settled into the shotgun seat, stretching his long legs out in front of him.
"Drive to the market," Sion said calmly, gazing straight ahead as Bernard started the engine.
"The market?" Bernard asked, whipping his head to the side in disbelief. "My prince, I thought we were supposed to stay on the mountain and watch the place burn. Why are we driving to the market now?"
Sion's gaze remained fixed on the road ahead. "Because I want to feed my eyes," he said slowly. "I want to look at my enemies one last time before I destroy the place." Sion answered, looking at the black balaclava on the dashboard and deciding he wouldn't need it that day.
He had always used it whenever he was going to public places to avoid being spotted. But today he wasn't going to use it. Only a few people would recognize him in the market, and those who knew and would recognize him would be dead before they would be able to tell the story.
"Ahh… Very well then. To the market it is." Without another word, Bernard pressed his foot to the accelerator, and the vehicle slid smoothly out of the palace grounds.
***
Meanwhile, across the city, Bertha had finally succeeded in doing something she had been planning for sometime. She had managed to smuggle Liana out of the mansion. The feat was not easy, but a guard whom Bertha had a long-standing friendship with had eventually relented and granted her access to a forgotten passageway. Through it, they slipped out unnoticed and made their way to the bustling heart of the city.
They arrived at the Manbilla Market in a worn-out yellow taxi with a cracked windshield. As soon as the door opened and Liana stepped out, she froze on the spot, her lips parting in amazement.
The market was a riot of color and sound. Stalls sprawled across every available space, spilling into the narrow walkways. Shouts of traders filled the air, each one hollering louder than the next in a desperate attempt to draw attention to their goods. The smells of fresh produce, fried snacks, spices, and livestock mingled together, forming a pungent but strangely appetizing scent.
"Welcome to Manbilla Market, my dear," Bertha said with a soft chuckle, her hand lightly resting on the girl's back.
"Whoa… Bertha… There are so many people," Liana whispered, her voice barely audible over the noise, but filled with awe. "I've never seen anything like this in my life. It is amazing."
The only time she and Lily were allowed to leave the house was when they were going to school, or returning from school. And both times, a driver was always available to pick them up. They were never allowed to go anywhere by themselves outside the mansion.
Her eyes darted from one group of people to the next. Some women sat on low stools, selling yams or plantains. Children darted between the stalls, laughing and screaming with joy. Men haggled fiercely over the price of goat meat or motorcycle parts. It was chaos. Beautiful, living chaos.
Bertha grinned and reached for Liana's hand. "It is amazing," she agreed, her voice full of warmth. "Come now. Hold on to me."
Liana grasped her hand tightly as they ventured deeper into the crowded market. The noise grew louder with each step, and Liana's eyes widened as they passed a group of women hawking red and green peppers from woven baskets.
"I didn't know there were so many people in the city," Liana said, raising her voice so Bertha could hear her. "And it's so loud. Why is everybody shouting?"
"They're advertising their goods," Bertha explained with a laugh. "The shouting draws attention. It brings in customers."
"Ohh…" Liana murmured, finally understanding.
At the same time, Sion and Bernard had finished their silent walk through the market, moving unnoticed among the crowd. Sion had kept his hood up, his sharp features hidden in shadows. Only a handful of people recognized him, and those who did were smart enough to keep their heads down.
They were just about to exit the market when it happened.
Sion walked past a certain girl—an ordinary moment that should have meant nothing. But the moment he passed by her, something in him fractured. It was as if a strange gravity pulled him to a sudden halt, his body refusing to move forward.
His entire existence immediately turned upside down, so much that if he was asked to put whatever the hell was wrong with him at that moment into words, he would stutter and not make any sense even if he tried to speak for 2 hours straight.
His breath caught in his throat, and for a second, he could not even remember where he was. The noise of the market faded. Everything else blurred.
Without thinking twice he tuned in to the sound of her voice. It was melodious and horrifyingly gripping.
"What is that, Bertha?" the girl asked, pointing toward a small, colorful cart set up in a corner.
Children were gathered around it, giggling and jostling for space. From the cart, a cheerful melody played, and on top of it spun a machine creating soft pink clouds.
"That's cotton candy," Bertha replied. "Would you like to have some?"
"Yes!" Liana answered quickly, her eyes lighting up, nodding her head eagerly.
Bertha changed direction, pulling the girl gently toward the cart.
Behind them, Sion turned slowly on the spot, his expression unreadable. His heart was pounding like a war drum in his chest, his thoughts in disarray. The world tilted slightly beneath his feet.
"My prince?" Bernard asked cautiously, coming to a stop beside him. "Is something wrong?"
Sion's voice came out low and strange, almost as if he were speaking to himself. "Yes. That girl is wrong… and so right at the same time."
Bernard blinked. "What?"
Sion didn't respond. His eyes remained locked on Liana's retreating figure as though his fate had just been rewritten, and only she had the pen.