*Six years later*
Morning unfolded gently over the orchard, pale sunlight slipping between the branches as if careful not to disturb the quiet. Dew still clung to the grass beneath the trees, and the leaves stirred with the faintest whisper as two maids moved among them, baskets hooked over their arms.
Olivia walked ahead, her thick curls of black hair pinned hastily at the nape of her neck. She reached up, twisted an apple free from its branch, and wiped it against her apron before taking a quick bite. Her brown eyes flicked around the orchard, cautious even as she indulged.
"The apples did not bear as many fruits as they did last season," Olivia said, her voice low, words half-muffled as she chewed.
Miravel, walking beside her, nodded. "Not to mention they cut down the other two trees behind the west wing."
She stretched for a ripened plum hanging just within reach, but the moment her fingers brushed the leaves, she recoiled with a sharp yelp.
Olivia spun toward her. "What happened, Mira?"
Miravel stood frozen, her basket swaying slightly at her side. Her golden-blonde hair had slipped loose from its ribbon, catching the morning light as she stared at the branch she had reached for moments before. Her green eyes were fixed on a small dark shape clinging beneath a leaf.
"It is a spider," she said quickly, clutching her hand to her chest.
Olivia laughed softly. "If spiders knew how much fear they caused, the would hide better."
Mira returned the smile with a nervous one. "I think we have already picked more than enough fruits."
She stepped away from the tree without another glance, and Olivia followed, still amused as they made their way out of the orchard.
They were only a few steps from the servants' entrance when a sharp voice cut through the quiet.
"Hey! You two."
Both girls stopped at once.
The head maid stood before them, tall and rigid, her dark grey uniform pressed to perfection. Her hair was pulled into a severe bun, not a single strand out of place, and her narrow eyes swept over them with practiced scrutiny.
The head maid's gaze settled on Olivia, who had already lowered her eyes, her attention fixed on the fruit filling her basket.
"Hand over your basket to her, and go to the library. Princess Leila needs a helping hand." she said, her tone leaving no room for hesitation.
Mira obeyed at once. She passed her basket to Olivia, earning a quick, reassuring look in return, before turning away and making her way down the stone corridor.
The palace grew quieter the farther she walked. Her footsteps echoed softly as she passed tall windows that let in the pale morning light. She climbed a narrow staircase and followed a passage she had only walked once before, her nerves tightening with every step.
The library doors stood half open. A single guard was stationed at the entrance, unmoving and silent, his presence enough to remind her that this place was not meant for wandering. Mira slipped inside, keeping her head lowered.
It was only her second time here, yet the space felt enormous. Shelves rose high toward the ceiling, packed with books that looked as old as the palace itself. Sunlight streamed through tall windows, dust motes drifting lazily in the air. Mira slowed her steps, glancing around in quiet wonder.
"Why would they have so many books in one place yet no one ever used them?" She internally wondered.
The silence felt heavy, almost expectant.
She moved deeper between the shelves, searching for Princess Leila, when she failed to notice a single book jutting out from its place. Her forehead struck it lightly, and the impact sent three more books tumbling to the floor.
"Oh," she whispered, crouching quickly.
She gathered the first book, then reached for the second. That was when she noticed it.
A small piece of parchment peeked from between the yellowed pages of the third book. The paper looked old and fragile, its edges uneven, as though it had been torn by hand. Curiosity tugged at her before caution could stop it.
She slid the parchment free.
The words were written in an unfamiliar script, elegant and flowing, yet as her eyes traced the symbols, understanding bloomed without effort. It felt as natural as reading her own name.
"Thir nael varuun.
Esha krevien tor.
Bylith saen, bylith mor."
The moment the last syllable left her mouth, the candles lining the shelves burst alight all at once. Mira gasped, stumbling back as the flames flickered wildly before snuffing out just as quickly, plunging the room back into the gentle glow of sunlight.
Her heart pounded.The parchment in her hand grew warm. Too warm.
She dropped it instinctively, watching in stunned silence as it caught fire on the stone floor, curling inward until nothing remained. No ashes. No trace. Just empty stone.
Mira stared at the spot, her breath shallow, her thoughts scrambling to make sense of what had happened but a voice sounding from behind her brought her to her present senses.
"Were you the one sent by Jannice?"
Mira nearly jumped out of her skin. She spun around, bowing her head immediately.
"Yes, Your Highness," she said, her voice steadier than she felt.
Princess Leila stood a few steps away, her expression calm and unreadable. Without another word, she turned and walked between the shelves. Mira followed closely, her hands clasped together, her mind still reeling.
The princess moved with purpose, selecting books one after another. When she had gathered several, she turned and placed them into Mira's arms.
"Take these to my chambers."
"Yes, Your Highness."
Mira exited the library at once, the weight of the books pressing against her chest. Her steps were careful, her thoughts anything but.
Her heart had yet to settle.
Even as the day slowly passed by, she couldn't let go of the memory no matter how hard she tried to distract herself from it. She had witnessed the use of spells before and she knew whatever she had just done meant something, but what could it be.