Freya woke slowly, her body feeling strangely heavy against the soft mattress beneath her. The first thing she noticed was the ceiling—high, grand, and painted with scenes of golden skies and silver stars. It was a luxurious room, far too beautiful to belong to anyone she knew.
A warm hand gripped hers tightly.
"Freya, Freya, Freya..." a voice whispered.
Freya turned her head weakly and saw Lylah sitting right beside her, her eyes wide with worry.
"It's a good thing you're okay," Lylah said softly, squeezing her hand.
Freya tried to sit up, her muscles trembling slightly. Lylah was quick to help, slipping an arm behind her back and easing her up against the mountain of pillows.
Freya blinked a few times, trying to clear the fog from her mind.
"Where... where are we?" she asked, her voice hoarse.
Lylah brushed a strand of hair behind Freya's ear and smiled gently.
"We're in Lord Vladimirios' kingdom."
At once, Freya's hand flew to her neck where she remembered the sharp pain.
"He bit me..." she whispered, her eyes wide with panic. "Lylah... he bit me."
Lylah nodded, her face filled with sadness.
"I know, Freya," she said quietly. "That's why you fainted."
Freya lowered her hand slowly, her heart pounding in her chest.
"Who is Lord Vladimirios, Lylah? Why does my father respect him so much? Why did he let him come with us?"
Lylah let out a slow breath and smiled, though there was a hint of sadness behind it.
"I know you don't know much about the outside world... but let me explain it to you."
She leaned in a little closer, lowering her voice as if she were telling a dangerous secret.
"Lord Vladimirios is the Emperor. That means he rules over many kingdoms—including your father's. Your dad might be powerful, but compared to Vladimirios, he's just one of the many rulers under his command. Whatever Vladimirios wants, he gets. No one can say no to him."
Freya listened, feeling a chill run through her.
"I was honestly shocked he showed an interest in you," Lylah continued, giving her hand another squeeze.
Freya looked away, her chest tightening.
"He's not interested in me, Lylah," she said quietly. "He's looking for a toy to break. And I'm the new toy he just acquired."
Lylah's face paled.
"He... he said that?"
Freya nodded slowly.
"He told me not to break... or I'd regret it."
For a moment, neither of them spoke. Lylah held Freya's hand tightly, as if trying to pass her strength through her touch.
Finally, Freya whispered,
"Look, Lylah... if we stay here, maybe... just maybe, we've already escaped the execution that was supposed to happen two weeks from now. Maybe our story is already changing."
Lylah nodded slowly, but her face was serious.
"But I'm not so sure, Freya. If we're changing the future... your brother might already have other plans."
Freya furrowed her brows.
"What do you mean?"
Lylah hesitated, then leaned closer.
"I forgot to tell you something... When I was trapped with your brother, right before you came to save me... while I was between his legs... I noticed something."
Freya blinked, confused.
"I saw that he didn't have the birthmark on his neck."
Freya stared at her in shock.
"What do you mean? Me and my brother were born with the same birthmark."
To prove it, Freya pulled down the neck of her dress, showing Lylah the small, distinct mark just above her collarbone.
Lylah shook her head slowly.
"I know, Freya. I know you have it. But... your brother doesn't."
The room grew still. Freya felt a heavy sense of confusion settle over her.
"I know it's hard to understand," Lylah continued, her voice soft but urgent. "But I think his reason for wanting to kill you... it's not just about me or jealousy. It's something deeper."
She looked Freya straight in the eyes.
"And if he really wants to succeed... he'll act brotherly. He'll pretend to care. He might even visit you here."
Lylah took a deep breath.
"Let's give it a week. If he comes... then I'm right."
Freya nodded slowly, still trying to wrap her head around it.
"And there's more," Lylah said, her voice dropping lower. "When I used to sneak around to visit you—before your mom allowed it—I always saw Lady Fredydis with Prince Fenrir."
Freya frowned.
"Fredydis? My dad's wife?"
"Yes," Lylah said, standing up and pacing a little. "At first, I thought it was normal. Maybe he was just being nice because she's the wife of the king. But now... after remembering how your mother and Fredydis hated each other... I realized something was off."
Freya looked at her with wide, worried eyes.
"Are you saying... she's involved in the plot to kill me?"
Lylah turned to her sharply.
"Not just involved," she said firmly. "There's something much bigger going on here."
Freya's hands trembled slightly.
"I don't even know what Fredydis looks like," she whispered. "I don't know my father's other mates."
Lylah nodded.
"I know what she looks like," she said seriously. "And we have to figure it out. We have to figure everything out."
Before Freya could answer, there was a soft knock at the door. Both girls turned sharply.
The door opened and a maid entered, her head bowed low.
"My lady," she said respectfully. "His Majesty requests your presence in his chambers. Please come with me."
Freya swallowed hard, her heart hammering against her ribs. She turned to Lylah, who nodded, her face full of warning.
"Be careful," Lylah whispered.
Freya pushed the covers aside and slipped her bare feet onto the cold floor. She straightened her dress with shaking hands, then followed the maid quietly out of the room.
The hallway they walked through was grand and silent, lined with beautiful paintings and tall golden candelabras. The floors were polished marble, and every step Freya took echoed softly.
As they walked, Freya's mind raced.
Why does he want to see me?
What could he possibly want now?
Her fingers brushed the spot on her neck where he had bitten her. The memory made her shiver.
Whatever awaited her in Lord Vladimirios' chambers, she knew one thing for certain—
This was only the beginning.