It was awkward the whole day. Damian kept staring at me — not in his usual sarcastic way, but with those pink highlights in his eyes, like he was trying to figure something out. Or maybe hide something.
Thank the stars school ended early.
Even better, Aunt Diane came to pick me up.
"Aunt Diane, where are we going?" I asked. We were heading in the opposite direction of home, and I wasn't in the mood for any more surprises.
She smiled knowingly. "No one's told you anything about a leader's training, have they?" She glanced at me sideways. "We're heading to the King's Palace. That's where all leaders begin their journey."
Figures.
Like I said, Mom never really let me in on outcast affairs. I always felt behind compared to the other kids — even those younger than me. But still, I couldn't contain the excitement bubbling inside me.
I'd never been to the palace before.
When we arrived, I was shocked to see someone waiting for us.
The King.
King Adrian.
I suddenly felt like a foreign princess entering sacred royal grounds.
"D…D…Diane?" the King stammered when he saw us. His voice cracked with surprise.
I looked up at my aunt — her face had shifted. Her usual calm expression was replaced by something colder, sharper. She wasn't expecting to see him either.
"You're now her mentor?" he asked, pointing at me.
Aunt Diane raised an eyebrow. "Do I look like her sister?" she shot back coolly.
The King turned away, giving us space to pass through the grand entrance.
Okay... what was that about?
Mom had told me stories about growing up in the palace with her sister — about the halls, the rituals, the secrets. She always said the King and Aunt Diane had been close. But whatever happened back then, it was obvious things had changed.
We walked through the palace hallways, ancient portraits lining the walls. Aunt Diane took her time explaining each one. I didn't get it at first — shouldn't we be casting spells or floating candles or whatever?
But then she explained.
"Our people began here," she said. "We weren't always outcasts. We were kings, queens… rulers. But the freeborns didn't want to be ruled by outcasts, so they forced balance. Every freeborn king would marry an outcast woman — to keep peace."
I blinked. That was a lot.
"But if that's the rule… why isn't King Adrian married? He has a son," I asked quietly.
Diane's jaw tightened, but she said nothing.
I got the hint. Not my place to ask.
Still, learning about our origin gave me a strange kind of pride. It meant we weren't just outsiders. We were born of legacy. Of power. And knowing this would help me not fall for the lies the freeborn tell about us.
Just then, a shadow passed the hallway.
Aunt Diane stiffened.
"We shouldn't have any disturbances," she murmured, then excused herself to check.
---
Third Person POV
Diane moved swiftly through the hall, her footsteps silent against the marble floor. She turned a corner—and collided with someone.
"Sorry," she muttered, annoyed—then froze when she looked up.
"I'm sorry," King Adrian said back.
Diane narrowed her eyes. "Really? You're sorry?" Her voice dripped with sarcasm. "That's right—you should be."
He ignored the jab. "Where is your student?"
She crossed her arms. "That's not your business. Maybe you should focus more on your wife."
"Meaning?" His tone was cautious. He had always liked the Scarlet twins, but Diane was unpredictable. Dangerous. Trusting her with someone she resented? It made him nervous.
"Tell her to stop spying on me and my niece," Diane said coldly. "I haven't forgotten what she did."
"Can't you let go of the past?" he asked gently.
Her glare darkened. "I would have, if the child had died."
Adrian flinched. Her words sent a chill down his spine.
"Do you really hate me?" he asked softly, his voice almost pleading. He reached for her hand—but she pulled back.
"Why? Don't I have the right?" she asked.
"You know it was all a mistake. Something that never should have happened."
"But it did happen," she snapped. Her voice cracked — not with anger, but pain. "I lost everything I worked for because of one act. One choice."
She paused, then said something that stunned him.
"It's you I loved — not the child. Why do you think I went through so much for Isabelle's son?"
Tears rolled down her cheek.
Adrian felt something sharp in his chest. Guilt. Regret. Maybe even love.
"I'm sorry," was all he could say.
"Sorry? How many times have you said that word to me? I'm tired of that word. It means nothing."
Diane suddenly staggered.
Adrian caught her just before she fell — but it was too late. She had fainted.
---
Back to First Person
"Aunt Diane!!!"
I screamed as I ran toward her. I hadn't noticed she'd been gone so long — I'd been so caught up in the palace portraits. But now, seeing her limp in the King's arms, panic flooded me.
She was unconscious.
The King held her gently, calling her name, trying to rouse her.
"Aunt Diane," I whispered, my voice shaking. "Please wake up…"