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CHAPTER 4 — "When the Past Nearly Burned the Palace Down"
After leaving the guest wing and disappearing down the corridor with the casualness of someone who had just dropped an emotional bomb, Leo closed the door to his room and collapsed onto the bed.
He didn't change clothes.
He didn't turn off the lights.
He simply stared at the ceiling.
—What a miracle… —he muttered—. Seriously. A damn miracle they don't kill each other.
Because if someone had told him years ago that Yeana Seraphiel and Nella Ignivar would one day be able to coexist without destroying half the palace, he would have laughed in their face.
And yet… there they were.
Almost functional.
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Yeana had arrived first.
Leo was twelve when he saw her for the first time.
She was thirteen.
There was no formal introduction. No ceremony. No announcement. Just something far simpler—and far stranger: a girl far too serious for her age correcting grown adults in the palace gardens as if the entire world were a board she had already learned to read.
Daughter of the royal butler.
Disgraced nobility.
A surname stained by history.
Leo didn't care.
—You look like you have potential —he said without thinking—. Want to be my personal attendant?
The indignation was immediate.
Yeana looked at him as if he had just insulted her ancestors… which, technically, he had.
But she also saw opportunity.
—Yes, omnipotent majesty, god of the world we live in and most valuable treasure of this kingdom.
Leo smiled… until it clicked.
—That's sarcasm, isn't it?
—It will be whatever you believe, great highness, rising sun of the nation and living omnipotent god.
—Please stop —he begged—. You're scaring me.
She never did.
But she never stopped being efficient either.
Yeana was never a common servant. Over time, she stopped handling physical tasks altogether and became something else entirely: she coordinated schedules, filtered nobles, organized audiences, and—most importantly—identified threats long before Leo even suspected they existed.
There was no romance.
There was no friendship.
It was a strictly functional relationship… and an oddly long-lasting one.
---
Nella arrived when Leo was fifteen.
She was seventeen.
Nella Ignivar wasn't chosen by intuition or curiosity. She was assigned.
Since the fall of the old tyrant, an Ignivar protected a Valeborn. It wasn't written law, but it was tradition. Symbol. Expectation.
Nella was pure fire.
Constant motion.
Fast reactions.
An overwhelming presence.
Where Yeana observed and calculated, Nella acted.
At first, they merely coexisted.
But Yeana felt Nella's gaze.
Not hatred.
Not resentment.
Evaluation.
And that alone was enough to awaken every demon she had.
---
The breaking point came on Leo's twentieth birthday.
The ceremony was excessive.
The night, endless.
When the last noble finally left and the palace sank into that heavy silence that follows grand events, years of accumulated tension found its perfect excuse.
Leo's bedroom was still decorated with banners, forgotten goblets, and remnants of ceremonial magic lingering in the air.
Yeana was giving orders.
—Remove that. No, not there. The banner is crooked.
Nella watched her for a few seconds.
Too many seconds.
—For a servant —she finally said—, you're awfully arrogant.
The air grew heavy.
Yeana turned slowly.
—Excuse me?
—You act as if you're the highest authority in the room.
—And you act as if you're waiting for me to fail —Yeana replied calmly—. Has my existence always bothered you this much?
—Arrogance bothers me.
—And hypocrisy disguised as virtue bothers me.
The words escalated.
So did the voices.
A shove.
Another.
Magic seeped out.
A gust of wind slammed a chair into the wall.
A brief flare of fire burned a ceremonial curtain.
—Are you insane?! —Nella shouted—. This is the prince's room!
—Then control your fire!
An explosion shook the room.
A desk overturned.
Glass shattered.
Leo burst in.
—WHAT THE HELL—?!
A blade of wind brushed past his face.
A spark scorched the carpet.
Absolute silence.
Leo looked at them.
Looked at the destruction.
Looked at his ruined bedroom.
Something inside him snapped.
—Enough.
He didn't shout.
That was worse.
—Sit down. Now.
They obeyed.
—Hug each other.
They froze.
—…What?
—All night —Leo continued—. You don't separate. You don't argue. You don't talk.
—Are you—? —Nella started.
—All. Night.
It was the most horrific punishment imaginable.
Nella, incapable of staying still.
Yeana, trapped in constant physical contact.
They never fought again after that.
Not because they understood each other.
But because they remembered.
---
Leo returned to the present with a sigh.
Hours later, Ana woke up.
Everything was spinning.
—…Where am I…?
Two silhouettes approached.
—Good morning —said a cold voice.
Ana opened her eyes.
Ears.
White eyes.
Red eyes.
—My name is Yeana Seraphiel.
—Nella Ignivar.
—By order of His Majesty —they said in unison—, we will be your personal maids from now on.
Ana blinked.
—…Right.
The real chaos had only just begun.
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