*****
~Katrina~
Morning came, and with it, the tension of waiting. Everyone was on edge—especially now that we awaited Queen Fortuna's awakening.
Mother left early to ensure everything was in place for day two of the games. I had no idea what the king planned for the people, but I doubted it would be anything ordinary. The fire from the night before still lingered in everyone's minds like thick smoke, heavy and hard to ignore.
As for me, I didn't want to be part of the games. But even if I wanted to hide, it was impossible now.
King Karl had been restless all morning. He scolded the guards, his frustration thinly veiled behind clenched jaws and tight commands. If Fortuna woke up and remembered what happened—if she revealed it was due to negligence—there would be punishments. Severe ones.
Later that morning, Princess Rania and I approached the door that led to the royal kitchen. The air shifted the moment we neared. It was warmer, thick with the scent of spices and firewood.
"I am not a lover of the kitchen," Rania confessed with a wrinkle of her nose. "Neither is my twin."
I smiled faintly, not surprised. "Which means you don't know how to cook?"
"Why would I?" she replied with a shrug. "There are hundreds of servants to do that for us."
Of course. A princess through and through.
It reminded me of Anna—my stepsister back home. She never touched a broom or even carried her own slippers. I, on the other hand, was the bastard child. Lady Poria made sure I knew my place. Cooking, cleaning, scrubbing floors—I did it all, like it was stitched into my very existence.
The heat from the kitchen grew stronger as we stepped in. The space was a chaos of movement and metal—utensils clashing, water boiling, steam rising. Servants moved so quickly they barely noticed us, heads bent in silent urgency.
"Mother should be in the main kitchen," Rania said, motioning deeper inside.
We found the Queen Mother soon after. Her eyes lit up at the sight of us—though I noticed Rania growing more uncomfortable by the second. She clearly had no interest in staying.
But I… I did.
This place reminded me of my real mother. They said she once worked as a chef in the Everia palace. That's how she met my father. She fell in love. She got pregnant. And then, everything fell apart.
My grandfather—the late king—had her banished. And my father? He let it happen. He didn't lift a single finger to stop it.
When my father learned I was still alive, he didn't come for me. Not even once. Not until my mother died. And even then, it wasn't out of love or guilt—it was Lady Poria's suggestion that brought me back, and not as a daughter… but as a maid in my father's palace.
The queen mother's voice jolted me from the spiral of my thoughts.
"Forgive Rosalind for what she said to you yesterday," she said gently. I blinked at her, caught off guard for a moment before nodding. "I've spoken to her. I told her to respect you."
"It's nothing, mother. I didn't take it to heart," I lied. The truth was, Rosalind's words had cut deep, slicing through my pride like a sharp blade. And the worst part? She didn't lie. Everything she said was true. It was the way she said it—so cruel, so public—that made it unbearable.
"You are such a wonderful person," the queen mother said, pausing from stirring the pot of soup. She turned to look at me with a warmth that both comforted and confused me. "I'm glad my son is finally seeing it."
Princess Rania cleared her throat. She wasn't enjoying the direction of the conversation, nor did she look pleased to still be in the kitchen.
"I'll be going, mother," she said quickly. "I need to help my brother with the preparations."
"Do you know what the game will be today?" I asked, immediately regretting how eager I sounded.
"No one knows. Except the king, of course," Rania replied in a lower tone, glancing at her mother to make sure she couldn't hear us. "You should've asked him last night, but you missed your golden chance." She gave me a playful smirk. "You're also my mother's favorite now. Ask the king for the impossible—he'll do it for you."
"What are you whispering about?" the queen mother asked suddenly, arching a brow. "I hope Rania isn't being a nuisance."
I quickly shook my head, but Rania rolled her eyes and playfully tapped her forehead. "Oh, mother, well done. Why would you think that?"
"I just want to be sure," the queen mother said, smiling before turning her attention to the maids who awaited her instruction.
"It's obvious you've won her heart, princess Katrina," Rania whispered with a chuckle as she excused herself.
After she left, the queen mother glanced at me fondly. "Rania is so much fun to be around, don't you think?"
"She is," I agreed.
I moved closer, rolling up my sleeves. Despite the number of servants bustling around us, I reached for the basket of peas and began helping. I wasn't doing it out of duty. I just wanted to be near her. Her presence… felt a little like the mother I lost.
"Rosalind seems… more reserved," I said, not entirely sure how to follow the emotional depth of our conversation. I wasn't lying—Rania had grown on me quickly. She was warm, playful, and easier to be around. But Rosalind… she was a storm waiting to break.
The queen mother sighed and took a sip from the cup beside her. We stood by the table, surrounded by the aroma of spices and boiling broth, yet all I could sense was the heaviness in her chest. Her eyes shimmered. She was holding back tears.
"Sometimes I blame myself," she whispered.
I should've said something to comfort her, but curiosity took the lead. "Why?"
"Karl was a special child," she began, her voice tender and distant, "so I shifted my attention to him. While growing up… it wasn't easy. My focus was entirely on him. When he became king at such a young age, I had to be right by his side. He needed guidance, strength."
She paused, her fingers curling around the rim of her cup. "But in doing so, I couldn't care for my daughters the way I should have. Especially Rosalind."
I glanced down at the table, thinking about the fire in Rosalind's eyes the night before. The bitterness in her words. Maybe it wasn't hatred after all. Maybe it was just pain. Unspoken. Unprocessed.
"She still hates me for that," the queen mother added, almost as if saying it aloud made it real.
I hesitated, then spoke the truth gently, "I don't think she does. She may not act the way we want her to, but she loves you. She loves her siblings too."
"I hope so," she whispered, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand.
Then, her tone shifted with subtle finality. "You should go back to your room and get ready. Last night was short for all of us. You need rest before the games."
I didn't want to leave her—not when she had opened her heart like that—but I knew she needed the moment alone. So I bowed slightly and left.
Outside the kitchen, I noticed something strange. Queen Fortuna hadn't received a visit from the king all morning. Instead, her room was filled with relatives and nobles bringing her gifts—an almost overwhelming number. She lay in her bed like a porcelain doll, untouched by flames yet lavished with more care than the concubine who actually bore the burns.
She didn't deserve all of that attention.
The other woman—the one who actually suffered—should've been the one they surrounded with concern.
"My lady," Marissa's voice met me as I entered my chambers, snapping me out of my spiraling thoughts. "I have chosen your outfit for the games."
On the mannequin stood a beautiful pink silk gown, soft as a whisper and elegant in its simplicity. It shimmered beneath the morning light that spilled through my window.
"Are you crazy?" I laughed when I saw the dress. It was going to draw even more attention than yesterday.
"I thought… why not try something different?" Marissa said with a soft smile.
"All eyes will be on me," I said, touching the fabric. "And this part?" I pointed at the neckline. "My chest will be out."
"Didn't you see what the other women wore?" Marissa asked. I did. Even the queen dressed to be noticed. "They all want the king to see them. I know he saw you yesterday, but today… we need him to keep seeing you, my lady."
"Why today?" I asked, confused.
"Because he might not want to spend the night with you again," she said. Her voice was calm but serious.
I blinked. "I don't understand."
"You haven't heard?" Marissa leaned in and whispered, "Apart from the queen, none of the other women have been with the king more than once."
"What?" I stared at her. "He doesn't call them back?"
"No. He doesn't visit again. Not after the first time."
My heart sank. So that was it. That was why Queen Fortuna had pushed me into his bed. Not out of kindness—but to make sure I was used once and forgotten.
Tears stung my eyes. I looked away, trying not to let them fall.
"You don't want that to be your story, do you?" Marissa asked gently.
I sat on the edge of the bed, my hands in my lap. I should be happy. At first, I didn't even want to be near the king, let alone in his bed. But everything changed last night. I could still feel his touch, and deep down, I wanted more.
"My lady," Marissa knelt beside me. "We can change this. But you have to fight for it. If you want him to come back to you, we need to try harder."
"It feels like we're in a game," I said with a bitter smile.
Marissa nodded. "We are. And Queen Fortuna? She's already three steps ahead. You can't keep playing safe. It's time to take bold steps."
I looked down at the dress again. "But how?"
She reached for my hand. "By showing them you're not just another woman in the palace. You're the one he won't forget."
"You said the king once asked if you wanted the complex meant for Queen Fortuna… why don't you tell him you want it now?"
I had thought about it already, but something about it felt selfish.
"What if he says no?" I asked softly.
"Then make sure he says yes," Marissa replied, smiling like it was the easiest thing in the world. "That's why you're the woman."
I smiled too, though I didn't fully understand her. But her words made me feel brave, even if just a little.
I knew it wouldn't be easy, but I also knew I couldn't wait too long.
Evening came with its noise and excitement, but I was still lying in bed, unsure whether to go out now or wait.
"They've all gone already," Marissa said as she worked on my hair, curling it into tiny soft rings. It was going to look beautiful—I could feel it.
"What if we don't find a place to sit?" I asked with worry.
"I already told someone to keep a seat for you, my lady."
"Who?"
"Prince Elvin," she said.
I sat up straighter. "If I sit with him, the king won't like it."
"That's exactly why you should," Marissa said with a smirk.
For a moment, I stared at her. She was sharper than I'd thought. I wouldn't be surprised if she'd fought real battles before.
In less than twenty minutes, I was dressed and ready. The quarters were quiet—too quiet. It felt like everyone had disappeared.
As I stepped outside, my eyes drifted to Queen Fortuna's burnt room. My heart sank. How could someone be that cruel?
"Lady Fortuna started that fire, didn't she?" Marissa whispered.
I nodded.
"Then we'll spread that fire," she said, her voice low and fierce, "until the whole kingdom feels it."