WebNovels

Chapter 32 - Chapter 9 – The Last Fall

The morning of the Royal Jubilee rose with the blare of trumpets and the rustle of banners unfurling across the Zubari Palace grounds. Thousands gathered—nobles, merchants, artists, even visiting royals from neighboring kingdoms. The air shimmered with the heat of anticipation.

At the center of the royal amphitheater, two tents stood side by side: the crimson of the Mensah Circus and the silver-blue of the Royal Sky Circus.

The crowd buzzed.The rivalry had become legend—The Flying Star versus The Sky Prince.

Backstage, Naki wrapped her palms in chalk-dusted cloth. Her heart pounded, not from fear but purpose. She could still hear Bianca's words from the night before—They'll make you fall.

Not today.

Kwesi adjusted his torches nearby, his usual grin replaced by grim silence. "You sure about this?" he asked. "Because if that rope so much as whispers wrong, I'm setting fire to the palace."

Naki smiled faintly. "No fire. Just faith."

Madam Efua approached, regal even in her plain crimson shawl. She looked at her daughter long and hard. "I can't stop you," she said quietly. "But whatever happens today… remember who you are."

Naki nodded. "I'm a Mensah."

The drums rolled.

The first act belonged to the Royal Sky Circus. Ayoa soared through the air in gleaming silver silks, his troupe performing flawless, mechanical grace. The nobles applauded, though their cheers were polite—admiration without awe.

Then it was Naki's turn.

The torches dimmed. The drums slowed. She stepped into the spotlight, the crowd's hush sweeping like wind through the tent.

Her act began softly—balancing on the tightrope, miming a shy clown's dance. Laughter rippled through the audience, but then the tone shifted. She leapt higher, spinning, her body arching like a comet.

Gasps filled the air.

Then came the moment she'd prepared for: the dual crossover. Both troupes would take to the air—Ayoa and Naki, crossing paths mid-flight in a display of unity. The symbol of peace.

But as she swung forward, the world slowed—she heard the faint snap of fraying rope. Her breath caught. It wasn't hers.

It was Ayoa's.

His bar gave way, his body plunging through the air. Screams erupted.

Without thinking, Naki released her grip and dove.

Wind tore at her face. The world spun—gold, white, sky, dust—until she caught his wrist midair. The force wrenched her shoulder, pain blazing up her arm. Below, the crowd rose to their feet in horror.

For one terrifying heartbeat, the two hung suspended—two stars caught between fall and flight.

"Let go!" Ayoa shouted.

"Never!" she cried.

With her last strength, she twisted, kicking against the rope swing to propel them toward the safety net. They crashed hard, tumbling together in a storm of sawdust and silk.

Silence.

Then—an explosion of cheers.

The nobles stood, roaring her name. "Flying Star! Flying Star!"

Ayoa stared at her in shock, still clutching her hand. "You… you saved me."

Naki, gasping, managed a tired grin. "Guess I couldn't let you steal the spotlight again."

Above them, the broken ropes swayed like fallen crowns.

After the show, as medics fussed over her arm, Prince Malik approached. His perfect composure had cracked. "You risked your life," he said slowly. "You've turned my Jubilee into chaos."

Naki met his gaze, her voice calm. "No, Your Highness. I turned it into truth."

He said nothing. But for the first time, the crowd cheered her—not the prince, not his circus.

And as dusk fell over the palace, two ropes hung side by side, severed but entwined in the same knot.

One symbol of rivalry.The other—of redemption.

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