The sky was bright that morning, and the halls of Velmora pulsed with activity. From her chamber window, Aurora watched in quiet fascination, a single grape rolling between her fingertips before she slipped it into her mouth. She wore a deep green silk robe that glimmered faintly in the morning light, her white hair cascading smoothly down her back like a river of snow. Behind her, a golden bowl brimmed with ripe grapes and berries, untouched by insects, glistening like jewels.
But it wasn't the fruit that held her attention today.
Below, the courtyard stirred like a hive. Boxes — large, ornate, some gilded in bronze — were being carried through the palace gates. Soldiers stood at full attention as delivery carts rolled in from different parts of the kingdom. One chest broke open while being inspected, and gold coins spilled like a waterfall. Aurora gasped. A servant quickly scrambled to gather the pieces as others peered on in awe.
Villagers lined the far side of the palace wall, arriving in wagons, many of them bearing sacks of grain, wild animals, fruits, handwoven cloths, rare oils, carved artifacts. Aurora blinked as she leaned in closer.
"What in the world is happening?"
Her question lingered until the soft creak of the door behind her pulled her away from the window.
"My lady," one of her maids said, bowing, "Her Majesty, Queen Ava, requests your presence in her chamber."
Aurora nodded quickly, her curiosity only growing. "Bring me a change of clothes, please." she said, moving toward the center of the chamber.
Within minutes, they dressed her in a rich violet gown trimmed with gold thread. Her hair was brushed back neatly and perfumed lightly with vanilla oil. Once ready, she walked through the high-arched halls with her maids trailing quietly behind.
By the time she arrived at Ava's grand chamber, Queen Selene and Queen Virelda were already seated — dressed exquisitely, faces painted, eyes sharp.
Aurora bowed politely, then took her seat at the edge of the semicircle. Her maids, silent as ever, joined the rest of the palace maids behind the queens.
Selene glanced at her, smirked. "Always the last to arrive, aren't you?" she said, lips curled like a blade.
Aurora hesitated, then replied softly, "I… I still haven't learned my way around the palace."
Selene scoffed again. "Convenient."
The room grew silent as tension shimmered between silk and painted smiles. Aurora could feel it, she was in unfamiliar waters, and both women were already swimming.
Moments passed before Lady Ava entered — regal, graceful, commanding. All three queens stood and bowed deeply. Ava offered a curt nod and gestured for them to sit.
"I trust you all know why I summoned you," she said calmly, her gaze sweeping over them — then stopping on Aurora.
Aurora straightened, hands folded neatly in her lap.
"The king's birthday is upon us. As per Velmora tradition, the queens are responsible for organizing and preparing the festivities."
Aurora's brows lifted slightly in realization. So that's what all the chaos outside was for…
Ava continued, "As is custom, Queen Virelda will lead the preparations and assign duties accordingly."
But before Virelda could respond, Selene sat forward sharply. "Forgive me, Mother, but… you promised I would lead the preparations this year."
Ava didn't blink. "And I only promised because you swore you would give me a grandson," she replied, her tone still calm but cold. "You failed. So the duty returns to Queen Virelda."
Selene's face crumpled in disbelief, lips trembling with silent rage. Ava rose with elegance and left the chamber, her robes trailing behind her like water.
The moment the doors shut, Virelda turned slightly, satisfaction lighting her face like a candle in the dark.
"Your task," she said sweetly to Selene, "is to arrange the flowers. As you always do."
Selene's fist tightened on her lap. "The flowers?" she spat. "You might as well ask me to scrub the stables."
Virelda's smirk deepened. "You'll do whatever I ask… unless you'd like to go against Mother's wishes."
Selene stood abruptly, jaw tight with fury. She stormed out of the room, her servants scrambling after her.
Aurora remained seated, stunned. The tension, the politics — it moved like invisible threads between the queens. She looked to Virelda, who was also rising and heading for the door.
"Um…" Aurora began, voice almost timid. "My lady… what will my task be?"
Virelda paused at the door, turned her head slightly with that same cold smirk. But she didn't answer. She simply walked out — leaving Aurora in silence.
The walk back to her chamber was quiet. Her maids followed behind like shadows. Once inside, Aurora changed back into her green robe and slumped into her seat. Her thoughts churned. Was she forgotten? Or was this a game too?
Her maids, sensing her unease, gathered around.
"My lady," one of them said, "do not mind Queen Virelda. She will come around."
Aurora forced a soft smile. "It's fine. I was just wondering what the king's birthday celebrations are usually like."
The mention of the event lit up the room.
"Oh, my lady!" one of the younger maids beamed. "It is the grandest time in all of Velmora!"
"There will be music and dances and feasts," another chimed. "All the noble houses attend. Even kings from other kingdoms."
"The king gifts land to villagers," another said proudly. "Sometimes whole parcels with houses and servants."
Aurora blinked. "The king…..gives out land?"
The maids nodded eagerly.
"And some slaves are freed," the older maid added. "Soldiers and palace staff get rewards, titles. And there is the bestowal of gifts—by lords and by the queens."
Aurora tilted her head. "The queens give His Majesty gifts?"
"Yes," said another. "Some sing for him, or play instruments, or offer rare jewels. One queen from the neighboring kingdom once gave him a war horse."
Aurora's face fell slightly. "But I do not sing… nor play any instruments. And I have no jewels or gold."
All the maids burst into laughter.
One leaned forward, grinning. "Oh, my lady, you have plenty of gold."
Aurora frowned. "What do you mean?"
"Whatever the king owns… the queens own. All you have to do is go to the royal treasury, show your badge—"
"My… badge?" Aurora cut in.
The room fell silent.
All the maids looked at each other, confused. "You… have not seen your queen's badge?"
Aurora shook her head.
Without a word, Lira, one of the maids hurried to a tall, golden-trimmed wardrobe in the corner. She opened the bottom section, pulled out a drawer hidden behind velvet-lined panels — and there, nestled inside a black velvet cushion, was a glimmering golden brooch shaped like the royal emblem of Velmora.
The Queen's badge.
She brought it over carefully, holding it in both palms.
Aurora stared at it, breath caught in her throat.
It shimmered under the light — not just gold, but engraved, encrusted with small emeralds, etched with her title.
"This is yours, my lady," Lira whispered, placing it in her hands.
Aurora held it with trembling fingers. It felt heavy, as if not just gold—but proof.
Proof she is a queen. Proof she belongs.
Her reflection blinked back at her from the polished metal — white hair and all.
In that moment, something shifted inside her.
She had walked into Velmora as a slave girl in silk. A barter.
Now, she held the seal of royalty in her hand.
-
The bronze gates of Velmora groaned open as the king's entourage returned.
After a long journey marked by war councils, drought warnings, and near-sleepless nights under stars, King Aldric of Velmora stepped into his kingdom again. His armor was removed the moment he entered the royal court, and his cloak, heavy with dust, fell from his shoulders as servants hurried to attend to him.
He gave them no words.
Within the hour, he'd seen to every urgent matter that had piled up in his absence — signed decrees, met with commanders, issued orders on the rising grain shortages in the east — all with his usual detached efficiency. But even as his lips moved, his mind wasn't fully present.
One image refused to leave him.
Aurora.
That snowy dream. That forest. That cursed voice. And Aurora.
The way she appeared — strong, firm, and unafraid. Her white hair glowing even in the dreamworld, her hands pushing the cloaked witch off the cliff where he usually fell.
It was the first time… in years.
He bathed alone in his chamber, steam rising around him, but the thoughts remained. They clung to him like water.
He briefly considered telling his mother. She would be intrigued—perhaps even delighted.
But no. He wouldn't.
He would handle this. Alone.
So, he sent word through the palace, the king had returned. A formal message to Queen Virelda. Another to Queen Selene. And one to his mother.
But not to Aurora.
No reason, he told himself.
None he could explain.
And yet… before night fell, while his commanders gathered to finalize reports, Aldric stood up without a word, his black robe now draped around him like a shadow.
His soldiers straightened, prepared to follow.
"No," Aldric said quietly. "Only him." He motioned to his right-hand man, commander Kael.
And without explanation, the King of Velmora turned and walked.
Inside Aurora's chamber, a soft night breeze slipped in through the open balcony. The air was quiet, scented with lilac and polished wood. Aurora sat on the edge of her low velvet chair, still in her thin emerald nightdress, her long white hair loose around her like a silken curtain.
In her hand, she held the golden queen's badge. She'd been holding it for an hour now, unsure whether to hide it, wear it, or simply keep staring.
It is real. She is real.
A knock suddenly echoed through the chamber.
All her maids turned.
One of them went to the door — opened it — gasped and immediately dropped into a low bow.
"Your Majesty…."
The others bowed quickly. Aurora's heart thumped. She rose to her feet instinctively.
And then he stepped in.
Tall. Broad-shouldered. Barefoot on the velvet rug. Aldric — in his dark robe, crownless, unguarded.
He said nothing. The door shut behind him.
The maids, silent as ghosts, disappeared like vapor. Now the room belonged to just two people.
Aurora stammered as she bowed, clutching the golden badge to her chest. "I… I had no idea you'd returned, Your Majesty… or that you would…"
Her voice trailed off as he stepped forward.
His eyes drifted down — to the golden badge in her hand. He smiled faintly, the curve of his lips as rare as the northern moon.
Still, he didn't speak.
He kept walking until he stood directly in front of her, close enough that she could smell the clean musk of him — smoke and cedarwood. Her knees threatened to give in, but she held herself upright.
He lifted his hand slowly and tilted her chin up with two fingers.
Their eyes met.
Blue crashing into grey.
For a long moment, Aldric just… looked. Into her. Through her. As if trying to search for something — or someone — hiding in her soul.
Something inside him stilled.
Like the hush before snow.
Aurora gulped hard. She couldn't blink, barely daring to breathe, as he continued to stare into her eyes. Then, he released her chin and stepped back.
He turned away and walked to the edge of her bed.
"I shall sleep here tonight." His voice was calm. Simple. Final.
Aurora stood frozen, her hands trembling slightly. Her mind screamed with questions —Would he touch her? Would he do what men do? Why did he stare at her like that?
But he simply lay down, his arm folded behind his head. He glanced back at her once. "Lie down."
She hesitated, then nodded and moved slowly, forcing her heartbeat to quiet. She lay down at the far edge of the bed, her back turned slightly, her hands clutching the edge of the sheet.
He watched her in silence.
That white hair… the glow of it even in dim light. The way she breathed as if afraid to exist too loudly.
And yet… The peace was back.
He closed his eyes, expecting the wailing — the sound that had haunted his sleep since childhood.
But it didn't come. For the second time in his life… there was silence. And in minutes, he was asleep.
Aurora lay beside him, wide-eyed, heart thundering. She could hear his breathing — steady and deep. She turned slowly to face him.
He was asleep. Really asleep.
Her eyes lingered on him for a long while, then she remembered what his mother had said about the curse. He hasn't slept since birth…
Then why… how? Why her?
She closed her eyes too.
Maybe… maybe this was good. Maybe whatever bound her to this strange fate was working in her favor. Maybe.
Morning light slipped through the curtains.
Aurora stirred. When she opened her eyes, the space beside her was empty.
She sat up fast. "Your Majesty…?"
But the chamber was quiet.
Her maids entered seconds later, dressed in crisp uniforms, bows at the ready.
"He is gone," one of them said softly.
"His Majesty left before dawn," another added as she moved to help Aurora rise. "He didn't wake anyone."
Aurora said nothing, her mind still fuzzy with sleep.
He had slept beside her. Again.
Back in his chamber, Aldric sat shirtless on the edge of his grand bed. Sunlight spilled across the stone walls. His robe was draped carelessly over a chair.
He stared down at his own hands. This is no coincidence.
She had appeared in the dream. She had ended it.
And now, two nights in her presence, he'd found peace — something years of medicines, temples, scrolls, and silence had never granted him.
She wasn't ordinary.
Whatever Aurora was — slave-born or not — she carried something in her that defied logic, magic, and history.
He could feel it in his bones. And a whisper in his heart, one he never asked for, now echoed louder each time he breathed.
She is your peace.
-
The palace of Velmora had never looked so alive.
Silks fluttered from the balconies, banners dyed in the deep navy of the royal crest flapped under the cloudless sky. Trumpets sounded from the southern towers, and the courtyard blazed with activity. Laughter rang out from every corridor, and the scent of spiced meats and sweet wines filled the air like incense.
Inside the Grand Hall, Queen Virelda directed the final preparations with composed precision. Dressed in royal blue velvet laced with silver threads, her expression was cool, regal—yet her eyes missed nothing. Every flower placement, every food tray, every invitation, every ribbon on the pillar- everything had to be flawless. This was her domain, and she would not tolerate less than perfection.
In the far wing, Selene's mood was less steady. Though she wore an emerald gown studded with tiny diamonds, her eyes kept darting to Virelda's movements, her jaw clenched with every compliment the servants whispered to Virelda behind her back. Her task had been to oversee the floral arrangements, and she had done so begrudgingly, casting sharp instructions and harsh rebukes. She seethed beneath her poised exterior. This celebration was supposed to be hers to lead.
Aurora stood a distance away in the same hall, watching them both. She wore a simple gown—an ivory robe tied at the waist—waiting to be summoned for her final fitting. Her gaze traveled across the hall and settled on the long parchment scroll resting on the marble table—the guest list. Curiosity overcame her.
Virelda stepped away for a moment to inspect the arrangements at the gate. Aurora glanced around quickly, then rushed forward, hands trembling slightly as she unrolled the scroll. Her blue eyes scanned names rapidly. Lords. Nobles. Dukes. Kings…
Her heart pounded—King Real was not on the list.
She sighed in visible relief and quickly rolled the scroll back just as hurried footsteps echoed back into the hall. She returned to her place, face composed, heart slightly lighter.
Night fell, and the Grand Hall transformed.
Hundreds of torches flickered against the white marble walls. The golden chandeliers glittered with sapphire crystals. The lords had arrived, adorned in silks and chainmail, with their wives dressed in gowns of jeweled brilliance.
Musicians played gently near the raised platform where the thrones sat, and the nobles filled in.
Then the herald's voice rang out from the entrance.
"His Majesty, King Aldric of Velmora!"
The king entered in a long black robe embroidered with gold runes, a golden belt clasped at his waist. His presence stilled the room. Everyone rose. He walked down the red carpet with slow, steady steps, his dark gaze scanning the crowd—but pausing for no one.
He took his seat on the central throne.
To his right sat Queen Virelda, graceful and composed, her hands folded neatly. To his left, Selene, her smile too sharp to be genuine. His mother sat at her designated seat, watching with quiet authority, her presence commanding every eye. Yet one place remained… empty.
Until—
The doors opened again, and the herald's voice boomed, this time with surprise rippling underneath.
"Her Majesty… Queen Aurora of Velmora."
The entire hall turned.
She stepped in.
Aurora wore a gown of shimmering white silk that clung to her figure like flowing light, delicate silver thread woven into its hem and cuffs. A veil of translucent fabric trailed behind her like mist on glass. Her white hair had been swept into a soft twist behind her head, leaving a few strands loose over her shoulders. Atop her head sat a blue pearl crown, small but regal, set in polished silver. It wasn't extravagant—but it made her look like something out of a dream.
A few gasps broke the silence. Some nobles leaned forward. Others simply stared.
Selene's smile vanished.
Virelda's fingers curled slightly around the stem of her goblet, unease creeping into her usually unshakable expression.
And for the first time in his life—King Aldric's heart skipped a beat.
He didn't understand why.
She did not look like power. She didn't walk like royalty. And yet something in her presence silenced even the whispers in his mind.
Aurora bowed slightly, then walked to her place—without a single stumble. She took her seat silently, not daring to look directly at him.
Then the music rose. The celebration began.
The hall burst into life. Platters of roast duck, glazed lamb, and buttered fruits were brought in. Wine flowed like rivers. Dancers took to the center floor. Musicians strummed lutes and flutes. The lords stood one by one to offer tributes: chests of gold, weapons from distant lands, rare silks, and statues carved from marble.
Selene stepped forward next. She smiled sweetly and presented her gift: three bars of enchanted gold and a carved statue of Aldric in battle armor. "To honor the glory of my husband," she said, loud enough for all to hear.
Aldric gave her a nod. "Accepted."
Then Virelda rose. She sat before the harp and plucked the strings. Her song was a melody of war and victory, composed for Aldric's greatest battles. Her voice flowed sweetly to the ears of all present. The hall erupted in applause, and some cheered.
Aldric nodded again. "You have performed admirably."
Then all turned to Aurora. She hesitated. But she stood.
With her was a small wooden box—polished but plain. She opened it to reveal a pendant of gold, shaped like a flame. It gleamed under the torchlight. Not ornate, not magical… but its craftsmanship was delicate and perfect.
"I… I made this," she said quietly, her voice clear. "It's simple, but it represents… warmth. And rest. I hope it brings you… peace, Your Majesty."
A long silence. Then Aldric stood and walked toward her. He took the pendant. Held it in his palm.
And for a reason he could not name—this gift felt heavier, more precious than all the gold and silk laid at his feet.
He neither thanked her nor acknowledged it.
But he returned to his seat—and didn't let go of the pendant.
Aurora sat back down, heart thudding.
The court returned to celebration. The music rose again. But Selene fumed quietly in her seat, while Virelda's eyes flicked toward Aldric's hand—and the pendant still within it.
Something had changed. And everyone felt it.