Two Years Ago.

Odetta’s mother passed away. Living in a remote village meant that they had little access to medicines that could have cured her.

And, well...

No doctor would be willing to check on a person who so clearly had the mark of a former slave on their hand.

Before that, Odetta’s mother was very truthful about her lineage as the daughter of the previous king. She still remembered King Casrian ascending the throne eight years ago when she was nine years old, which was also when her mother moved them both here. Luckily, she was used to being destitute, so it wasn’t much of a change for her. What was strange was the fact that her mother, who was never religious, made them kneel down together each day to pray to Serira, Andalia’s main deity.

The situation with her mother made Odetta more than aware of what Andalia’s royal family was like. Her mother would always tell her how thankful she was that the Valdnrosas allowed them both to live, that they normally would be executed since it was forbidden for slaves to sire children of nobles, much less royalty.

But what could there be thankful for in a family that has a tradition of killing each other for the throne, along with the country’s citizens knowingly cheering them on?

Odetta’s mother both revered and feared the Valdnrosas, whilst Odetta decided she wanted nothing to do with them.

And so, she was more than happy to carry out her mother’s last wish conveyed to her: to live an extremely ordinary life.

Surely the Valdnrosas had long forgotten about Odetta and her mother’s existence since fifteen years had passed. They didn’t have to worry about moving locations anymore whenever royal knights seemed to close by. Odetta had thought she only needed to worry about finding a job to keep herself well-fed. Because of that, she was quick to pack all her belongings, preparing to leave the village for good.

Yet, a few days after her mother’s passing, there came several knocks on her door.

Rubbing her eyes as she sat up on her bed, Odetta wondered who would come to her run-down shed during the night.

She opened the door only to find a tall man who wore the grandest clothing she’d ever seen, donning vibrant robes with a fur collar that led her eyes to the sparkling jewelry he wore. Behind him were several people in what looked like knight uniforms, but not quite that either.

Odetta couldn’t see clearly at first because of the darkness, but that didn’t stop her from gaping. Her eyes only widened when a torch was brought near the man’s face, perhaps for him to have a better look at her as he bent slightly to match her height. The fire lit up his dark brown hair, blue eyes, sharp nose, and gold earrings that glowed fiercely in its light.

Odetta couldn’t speak. She couldn’t even think. Never was there such a more magnificent man that she saw in her life.

The man, who was Casrian, was amused by her gawking. He bent down on one knee before Odetta, taking her limp hand in his and kissing the back of it.

“So you must be my missing younger sister,” Casrian mused. “The daughter of a slave who the previous emperor loved so dearly and wrote much about in his journals. He even wanted to make your mother queen, once.”

‘Sister?’

That was the first word that managed to sink into Odetta’s mind. It was also then that she realized that the people behind the man weren’t knights, but palace guards who served their duty only to the royal family. She’d only ever seen them once a long, long time ago when she lived in the capital with her mother.

‘That’s right, he’s my brother.’ She could feel it in her bones. Meanwhile, a more quiet voice yelled at her to run.

But there was a connection that coursed through both Casrian and Odetta in the moment that he held her hand. Something inevitable.

And for the first time in her life, Odetta felt something akin to rainstorms and crashing ocean waves awaken in her veins.

***

Present

The doors to Danell’s study opened, letting in a servant carrying a silver tray.

“Your daily tea, Your Highness,” the servant said after a bow. When Danell didn’t bother to respond, he gulped and decided to take that as permission.

The tray nearly slipped from the servant’s sweaty hands as he placed the teacup down on the desk. All he wanted was to get out as fast as possible.

But as the servant turned around to leave, he halted in his tracks when Danell suddenly spoke up.

“Wait.”

The servant almost sputtered as he faced the prince again. “Is something the matter, Your Highness?”

Danell stared at the servant expressionlessly, making him increasingly nervous with each second of silence that passed.

Then—

“What is today’s tea?”

“Jasmine tea, Your Highness. Prepared by the head maid herself, who is known for her excellent skills in tea making. She says the petals were imported from the Seojin Empire.”

“I see.”

Danell placed his chin on his palm, seemingly bored.

The servant stood still, waiting with bated breath for any signal from the prince so that he could be dismissed. Cold sweat continued dripping down his back.

“Drink the tea.”

“...Your Highness?”

Danell sighed. “Are you new here? I can’t drink something new without having someone check whether it has poison or not.”

The servant went up to the desk, feeling the prince’s piercing gaze on him as he picked up the teacup with both hands, fearing it would fall and shatter with how much he was trembling.

He wouldn’t dare go against an order from a member of the royal family.

‘I just need to take a sip, right? He didn’t say anything about poison.’

Danell watched the servant carefully as he lifted the teacup to his lips.

A few seconds passed by until the teacup fell from the servant’s hands. He dropped to the ground, right next to the shards of porcelain and the spilled leftover tea.

Danell waited a bit longer as the body remained unmoving.

‘Hmm.’

Few people knew that Danell had an eidetic memory and that he could remember anyone that he looked at, especially the servants that went in and out his room who should have stayed the same. There was no reason for any of his servants to be fired and replaced at this time. That’s why this servant was certainly not one of his.

Not to mention, he didn’t take different teas each day. He only took lavender, as it helped him rest more easily in the evenings.

After removing his glasses and placing them down on his desk, Danell stood and walked over to the servant’s body. He prodded him with the tip of his shoe, making sure he was really dead. There was a tinge of disappointment when Danell turned the limp body over and found his eyes still open.

“What a hassle,” Danell mumbled to himself. His whole day was officially ruined.

He bent down and grabbed the collar of the servant’s uniform with one hand. Dragging the body out of his study, he made way for the throne room where Casrian was.

The palace’s head maid was a supporter of Rhylis.

And if Rhylis was truly the one who did this…

Casrian would like to hear about it.