CHAPTER 6
No one knew what I was.
But they were beginning to suspect.
And suspicion, I was learning, could be just as dangerous as truth.
The moon hung heavy above the palace, its silver glow spreading across stone and glass like a silent witness. I remained at the balcony long after the stranger's words settled into the night, my hands gripping the cold railing as though it were the only thing anchoring me.
"When they know what you are," he had said.
Not if.
"When."
"You speak as if discovery is inevitable," I said quietly, breaking the silence.
He did not turn at once. When he did, his expression had lost its sharpness, replaced by something darker—something almost wary.
"In a palace built on power," he replied, "nothing remains hidden forever."
My hands tingled again, faint but persistent. I glanced down at them, frustration tightening my chest. "You keep saying what I am as if it's a weapon. But weapons are forged. Chosen. I didn't choose this."
"No," he said softly. "You didn't."
"Then why should I pay the price for it?"
He stepped closer, lowering his voice. "Because the empire does not punish intention. It punishes threat."
I looked up sharply. "You think I'm a threat?"
"I think," he said carefully, "that if the truth about you became public, the empire would fracture trying to decide whether to worship you or destroy you."
The words settled like a blow.
"That's impossible," I whispered. "I can barely control the strange sensations in my own body."
"And yet," he said, "candles flicker when you are angry. Air shifts when injustice speaks too loudly. People feel unsettled around you without knowing why."
My breath caught. "You've been watching me."
"Yes."
"For how long?"
"Long enough to know that your curiosity will not allow you to remain ignorant."
I turned away from him, staring at the palace grounds below. Guards moved like shadows, torches cutting measured paths through darkness. Somewhere beyond the walls, the empire slept—unaware that anything had changed.
"You said secrecy won't protect me forever," I said slowly. "What happens when it fails?"
"Then the questions become sharper," he replied. "Why does the princess unsettle the court? Why does conflict follow her presence? Why does balance strain when she is near?"
"And Lady Mireya's daughter?" I asked.
"She will be among the first to connect the pattern," he said grimly. "She already listens for what others dismiss."
A chill slid down my spine. "She doesn't know," I insisted.
"No," he agreed. "But she knows something."
I exhaled slowly. "You're telling me I'm standing on the edge of a blade without even seeing it."
"Yes."
"And you still refuse to tell me who I am."
He met my gaze steadily. "Because names have power. And once you claim yours, the world will respond."
The warmth in my chest flared—stronger this time—but I forced it down, grounding myself in the stone beneath my feet.
"What if I don't want this?" I asked.
His voice softened. "Want has never protected anyone born into consequence."
Silence stretched between us, heavy but unbroken.
"My mother," I said suddenly. "Does she know?"
"No," he answered without hesitation. "And that ignorance shields her as much as it shields you."
"And my father?"
He hesitated.
"That silence is answer enough," I said bitterly.
He did not deny it.
"Then tell me this," I said, turning back to him. "If discovery means danger, and ignorance means vulnerability, what am I supposed to do?"
He considered me for a long moment, as though weighing something unseen.
"Observe," he said at last. "Resist the urge to react. Learn the palace before the palace learns you."
"And when curiosity becomes unbearable?" I asked.
A faint smile touched his lips—brief, knowing. "Then you will begin asking the right questions."
The bell rang again in the distance, marking the passing of another hour.
"When the empire finally understands what you are," he continued quietly, "some will call it prophecy. Others will call it heresy. But all of them will feel it."
I swallowed. "And until then?"
"Until then," he said, stepping back into the shadows, "you must survive being underestimated."
His form dissolved into darkness, leaving the night strangely hollow.
I remained alone beneath the silver moon, my thoughts racing, my body humming with restrained energy. I still did not know who I truly was—only that whatever slept inside me was ancient, patient, and deeply entwined with the fate of the empire itself.
Below me, the palace breathed—full of ambition, secrets, and fragile alliances.
And somewhere within its walls, forces were already shifting.
No one had named me.
Not yet.
But the moment they did, everything would change.