Maya was led into the queen's chambers without ceremony.
The queen did not rise. She studied Maya in silence for a long moment, her gaze slow and measuring, as if weighing something unseen.
"So," the queen said at last, "you arrived yesterday."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
"And already," the queen continued, "the palace has noticed you."
Maya's brow creased slightly.
"The training grounds are not a place meant for watching," the queen said. "Nor touching."
Maya lowered her gaze. "It was unintentional."
The queen's lips curved faintly. "Unintentional steps still leave footprints."
She rose then, moving a short distance, her voice carrying evenly. "Princesses are expected to be careful. The careless ones often believe boldness will protect them."
Maya looked up, confused. "Protect them from what?"
The queen paused, then glanced back. "From being chosen."
The words settled uncomfortably.
"In a palace," the queen went on, "those who stand out are rarely admired for long. A bright flame draws attention… and attention burns."
Maya frowned, unsure what any of it meant.
The queen waved a hand lightly. "That will be all. Remember this, Princess Elowen—some doors open only once. Others close the moment you reach for them."
She turned away, dismissing her.
Maya curtsied and left, her thoughts tangled, unable to decide whether she had been warned… or marked.
The queen remained where she was, eyes calm, already thinking several steps ahead.
⸻
Maya
Maya didn't realize she'd been holding her breath until she was back in the corridor.
She walked slowly, her steps echoing softly against the stone floor, replaying the queen's words over and over again.
The palace has noticed you.
Unintentional steps still leave footprints.
From being chosen.
Chosen for what?
She frowned slightly, absently rubbing her thumb against her palm. None of it sounded like a threat. But it didn't sound harmless either. The queen hadn't raised her voice, hadn't insulted her, hadn't accused her of anything outright—yet Maya felt as if she'd been placed somewhere she hadn't meant to stand.
Is she warning me… or telling me I already messed up?
The thought bothered her more than she liked. In the modern world, people were blunt. If you were in trouble, you knew it. Here, everything seemed wrapped in pauses and half-meanings.
She reached her chamber and shut the door behind her, leaning against it briefly.
Okay. New rule, she told herself. Less wandering. Less curiosity. Definitely less touching random people.
Yet even as she thought it, she knew she wouldn't change much. She had never been good at shrinking herself to fit a place. And somehow, she doubted that pretending to be quiet and perfect would make the queen look at her any differently.
⸻
The Queen
Long after Maya had left, the queen remained standing where she was.
She turned back toward the window, watching the palace grounds below. After a moment, she spoke—not loudly, not to anyone in particular.
"So that is the girl."
A maid stepped forward silently and lowered her head.
"She does not know how to hide herself," the queen continued calmly. "That can be dangerous… or useful."
She tapped her fingers once against the arm of her chair. "Keep an eye on her. I want to know where she goes, who she speaks to, and how often she forgets where she is."
"Yes, Your Majesty."
The queen's gaze hardened slightly. "Bold girls either learn quickly… or they are taught."
She said nothing more.
Outside, the palace continued its quiet rhythm, unaware that one small misstep had already set something in motion.
After Princess Elowen left, the queen remained where she was for a moment, her expression unreadable.
Then she rose.
She left her chamber without haste and walked into the courtyard. The guards stationed there straightened immediately, armor gleaming, movements precise as they bowed in unison. She did not slow, stopping only at the stone railing overlooking the grounds.
"Send for my eldest son," she said.
It was done quietly.
Not long after, measured footsteps approached. Her son came to stand beside her, tall and composed, inclining his head.
"You called for me."
"Yes," the queen replied. "Have you heard what happened earlier?"
He nodded once. "At the training grounds."
"And?" she asked.
"She touched one of the men."
The queen's lips curved faintly. "So she did."
He studied her profile. "Do you think it matters?"
"That depends," she said calmly. "For a princess of such a large kingdom, she certainly doesn't act like one."
He was silent.
"When people notice," the queen continued, "they begin to talk. When they talk, they begin to form opinions."
Her gaze remained fixed ahead. "I want to know who is watching her."
Her son frowned slightly. "And if nothing comes of it?"
"Then nothing was lost," she replied evenly.
She turned to him then. "The crown prince does not tolerate disturbances. If she becomes one, he will respond."
"And if he doesn't?"
The queen's smile was thin. "That will tell us something too."
She straightened. "Do nothing. Just observe."
The conversation ended there.
The queen turned and walked back toward the palace, guards bowing once more as she passed.
⸻
Maya sat on the edge of her bed, brushing a lock of hair from her face, when it started—soft, unbidden, like a whisper in her mind.
"I hid it there."
Her hand froze mid-motion.
The voice wasn't hers.
Stone under bare feet. A torch flickered, shadows crawling along walls. A hand—gloved, dark—rested on her shoulder.
"No one goes there. I found it once."
Her breath caught.
She was small again, the world suddenly too large, too loud. The narrow corridor, the hidden chamber… the cloaked figure standing before her.
"You mustn't tell anyone," the figure said.
"I won't," the smaller voice promised quickly.
Then the vision broke.
Maya's pulse raced, and before she could catch her breath, another memory slammed into her.
Leaves whipping past her face. Branches snapping. Tiny feet pounding earth. She was running, chasing—or being chased—through a forest alive with sound. A dark cloak moved ahead of her, billowing, guiding, protecting.
"Stay close," the woman whispered. "Don't look back."
Fear curled in her chest, but the hand holding hers was firm, steady.
And then—nothing.
The quiet of her chamber pressed around her. Sunlight spilling through the window, dust motes drifting lazily in the air. Her palms were damp. Her heart thudded painfully.
Elowen's memories. Not fragments. Scenes.
She frowned, unease twisting deep in her stomach.
A secret entrance… a hidden chamber…
Her gaze wandered across the stone walls, suddenly strange, unfamiliar.
Who was that woman?
The answer didn't come.
Only the echo of running feet, the cloak, and a promise whispered in a child's voice—one she had no recollection of making, yet felt tied to as if she had.