~Fortuna~
The breeze brushed against my face as I walked toward my room. It came through the open windows, carrying with it the scent of the coming season. The winds were growing stronger each day, and I couldn't help but wonder if Xylonia was ready for what was ahead.
When I stepped into my room, I looked around—but the drawing wasn't there. The maids said no one had brought anything for me. I was surprised. Karl wouldn't lie about something like that. He said he sent it, so where was it?
Maybe it had been delivered to the wrong room.
I rushed out, hoping to find Angelina, but instead, I ran into Princess Rosa. She was sitting in the courtyard, reading, as usual.
"Why haven't you slept?" I asked, sitting beside her.
"I couldn't," she replied calmly. "This book's too interesting."
Of course. Books were her world. It was strange to think how someone so young could live in stories instead of life. She was so different from her twin—quiet, serious, and always alone.
"You carry on," I said, scanning the area with my eyes, hoping to spot the drawing somewhere nearby.
"Fortuna, are you looking for something?" she asked, closing the book halfway.
"Yes," I replied with a small smile. "The king said he sent me a drawing… but it hasn't arrived."
Just saying it made my chest flutter. It felt special, even magical.
But Rosa didn't seem impressed. She rolled her eyes.
"I can't believe the playboy," she said with a dry laugh. "Look at my brother… one woman in his bed, and another waiting for a gift. I didn't know he could multitask so well."
Her words stung more than I wanted to admit.
Was that how it looked to everyone else? Was I just one of many?
There was nothing funny, but Rosa laughed so hard I thought she might hurt her stomach. Still, I said nothing. I had to endure her—she was on my side, after all.
"I'll go and look for my drawing, Princess Rosa," I said, standing up to leave.
But she stopped me. "I'll come with you. I want to see it too," she said, placing her book gently on the seat. No one would dare touch it—everyone knew it belonged to her, and no one dared move it an inch.
"Then let's go," I said, leading the way.
We searched for Angelina, and luckily, she hadn't left for the servants' quarters yet.
"My queen. Princess Rosa," Angelina greeted us with a bow.
I gave her a soft smile. Rosa, of course, rolled her eyes. That was just her.
"I received a drawing earlier," Angelina said, "but it wasn't meant for you."
My brows drew together. What was she saying? If the king sent a drawing, it could only be for me.
"I've already explained," I said, trying to stay calm. "The king told me he sent the portrait this evening. It's for me."
My thoughts were racing. If care wasn't taken, I might end up punishing her—and the guard who brought it.
"Forgive me, Your Highness," Angelina said, eyes still glued to the floor. She was clearly afraid of what I might do. "I don't think you understand me."
"Enough of this drama," Rosa said sharply, running a hand through her hair. "Where is the stupid portrait? Whose room was it taken to?"
I was wondering the same thing. Who were they mistaking me for?
"Princess Katrina," Angelina answered.
Rosa's lips parted, but no words came out. She shook her head slightly as if to laugh—but when she saw how angry I was, she swallowed it down.
"Fine," she said. "We'll take it from her. It was just a mistake on the guard's part… right?"
Angelina nodded, confirming what we already knew. But if it was just a mistake, why did I suddenly feel so strange? Why did it feel like my heart didn't want the frame anymore?
Why Katrina? Why her?
We headed straight to Katrina's room. She wasn't around, and her maid must have stepped out too—it gave us easy access. The room was neat, everything in place. And then I saw it.
The portrait.
It stood near the window, hidden beneath a white cloth. My chest tightened. I rushed toward it and yanked the cloth away.
My heart stopped.
I stared at the drawing, and for a second, the world went still. The air left my lungs, and I took a shaky step back. My blood boiled. My head ached like it was about to burst.
There was no mistake.
It was her. The face on the drawing was Katrina.
It was the same one I had seen in the king's room. All this time… it was Katrina. Not me.
"I don't think the guard made a mistake," Rosa said softly, rubbing the back of her neck. She looked shocked too, like she wasn't sure how to react. "No one expected it to be Katrina. We really thought it was for you."
Tears filled my eyes, but I blinked them back. I remembered the conversation I had with the king tonight. He didn't lie. I just assumed—hoped. I thought it would be me. But fate had already chosen.
How was I supposed to explain this feeling in my chest? This pain that wouldn't stop growing?
"I can't believe my brother," Rosa muttered, stepping closer to the drawing. "He draws concubines now?"
She looked at it for a moment and then added, "Though… Katrina is stunning. Curls would suit her better, but still. My brother really is talented."
I barely heard her. My ears were ringing. My thoughts were everywhere, trying to make sense of what I was seeing, what I was feeling.
Then Rosa said something that made it worse.
"I wish you hadn't sent Katrina to his bed tonight. You only gave him what he wanted," she said, biting her lip. "He's crazy about her. And now… now you've made things harder for yourself."
"What have I done?" I whispered, stepping back from the portrait. My hands trembled as anger rushed through me. The only thought in my head was to destroy it—right here, right now. Katrina hadn't seen it yet. I could end it before she ever did.
I moved forward to knock it down, but Rosalind grabbed my arm. "What do you think you're doing? Are you mad? My brother will lose it if you destroy one of his drawings. Don't even try it."
I froze. She was right. The king didn't play with his artwork. It meant everything to him. Yet… I meant nothing. Just a joke to him.
Rosalind looked at me, her voice softening a bit. "I don't know how you got mixed up in this mess with the drawings. But one thing I'm sure of—my brother wouldn't lie to you. This must be a huge mistake. We need to leave this room before she comes back."
"Yes, my lady," Angelina added from the doorway. She walked in quickly and picked up the white cloth, gently covering the portrait again like it had never been touched.
Rosalind didn't let go of me. She held onto my arm and guided me back to my room like I was someone fragile—someone broken.
And that was exactly how I felt.
Princess Katrina was taking my husband right before my eyes… and I let it happen. I underestimated her.
"Maybe… maybe your plan will still work," Rosalind said softly, helping me sit down at the edge of my bed. "After tonight, the king might lose interest in her. Just like he did with the others."
"My head is spinning," I muttered, pressing my hands to my temples as fresh tears slid down my cheeks. My chest ached. My heart hurt in a way I couldn't explain.
There was no love between the king and me… So why did it feel like I was falling apart?
"I want to be left alone," I whispered, barely able to look at her.
Rosalind nodded quietly and walked away, leaving me with nothing but the silence—and the sound of my heart breaking.
I was alone now, with a thousand thoughts racing through my mind. I hadn't even settled the issue of my sister's marriage to Prince Elvin, and now this? Another storm had come crashing in.
I needed to speak with the king. He would listen to me—he always did. But would he forget about Katrina just because I asked him to?
That woman… she was a snake, hiding behind soft eyes and a sweet voice. I should have known. I should have seen this coming. She had her eyes on my husband from the start. That was always her plan.
But why was the king falling for it? Why was he giving in to her so easily?
He had never gifted anyone a horse before—not even me. But he did it for her.
Karl only ever drew his mother, his sisters… and me. We were the only women who mattered to him. But now, Katrina? She was breaking into a place that had always been mine. And she was doing it without even trying.
She was getting everything. Everything I had fought for. Everything I had sacrificed for. She walked in and it was handed to her—just like that.
Anger surged through me. I pushed the tray in front of me and it went crashing to the floor. Still, it wasn't enough. I knocked over a few more items, but the rage in me kept burning.
Maybe it was time to take back control.
I grabbed the candle stand and pushed it against the curtain. I stood there, watching. Waiting. The flames caught quickly, spreading faster than I imagined.
The door was locked. Everyone was asleep. No one would notice in time.
The heat began to bite at my skin. My breath came faster. I was sweating. Panicking.
But I didn't run.
I screamed—loud enough to shake the whole palace. A cry that came from deep inside me. From all the pain, the betrayal, the fear.
I waited.
Waited for him.
For my hero.
My husband in shining armor to come and save me.
But what if he doesn't?