CHAPTER TWENTY — Whispers of What Was Waiting
Sleep refused to come to Nightfall Palace.
Candles burned low in chambers where thoughts refused to rest, and behind stone walls, three hearts beat with very different fears.
In her chamber, Emily lay awake, staring at the ceiling. Kira's face returned to her again and again not his usual cold indifference, but that moment at dinner. The way his gaze had sharpened. The way it had lingered.
Not on her.
On the maid.
Helena.
Emily turned onto her side, fingers curling into the silk sheets. She had been raised among nobles, trained to read expressions, to notice what others missed. And she knew one thing with chilling certainty.
That look had not been nothing.
By morning, her suspicion had settled into resolve.
Kira left at dawn.
The palace courtyard echoed with the sound of hooves and clinking armor as the prince mounted his horse, surrounded by a small escort. The matter was official border trade discussions, a routine royal duty but his mind was far from politics.
As the gates of Nightfall opened, Kira did not look back.
If he stayed any longer, he feared what he might do.
Or say.
Or admit.
High above the courtyard, unseen by him, Helena watched from a narrow balcony. She told herself it was coincidence that she had simply been sent to clean the upper halls but her eyes followed him until he disappeared beyond the gates.
Only then did the strange ache in her chest ease.
She didn't understand it.
She didn't want to.
Emily waited until Kira was gone.
That afternoon, she summoned Helena—not as a princess demanding a servant, but as a woman wearing a careful smile.
"You're Helena, yes?" Emily said gently, seated near the sunlit window of her chambers.
Helena bowed quickly. "Yes, Your Highness."
Emily gestured to the seat across from her. "Sit. Please."
Helena hesitated. No royal ever asked twice. Slowly, she obeyed.
"I've seen you around the palace often," Emily continued, her tone light, curious. "You serve diligently. How long have you been here?"
Helena answered politely, cautiously. About her grandmother. About the work. About survival.
Emily listened closely. Too closely.
"And the prince?" Emily asked, as if the question meant nothing at all. "Does he treat the servants fairly?"
Helena's hands tightened in her lap.
"Yes, Your Highness."
That was all she said.
Emily smiled but something in her eyes sharpened.
Interesting.
That night, Helena dreamed.
She stood in a vast hall she had never seen, its pillars cracked, its banners torn. Shadows clung to the walls, whispering her name.
Helena…
She turned, heart racing.
A voice ancient, weary, hopeful.
We have waited for you.
Figures emerged from the darkness, faces blurred, hands reaching.
Come save us.
Bring balance.
You are the peace.
Helena tried to speak, but the words caught in her throat.
The floor beneath her feet began to glow soft at first, then brighter, spreading like light through water.
She woke with a gasp.
Her room was silent.
But her hands were warm.
Glowing.
The light faded quickly, leaving her shaking, breath uneven, heart pounding as if it had remembered something her mind had not.
Across the palace, unseen forces stirred.
And far from Nightfall, riding beneath an open sky, Kira felt something shift in his chest sharp, sudden, undeniable.
As if something precious had just begun to awaken.