Mikleo 1

1.5

Mr. Merchant chuckles. “You’ve been asleep for quite some time. Of course we are arriving by now. Look up ahead. That’s the entrance gate to the capital.” She does, and her eyes widen by the scenery that lays before her.

Tall, majestic castle stands rigidly far ahead, soaring to the bright blue sky where the sun shine gleamingly. It is surrounded by buildings after buildings made of solid and orderly walls, the town houses stand consecutively align with a number more than she can count. The gate is great and wide, and carts and carriages from all kinds of class line up for entry.

Nayla has never seen something this crowded before. The other towns are much smaller and sparse. Something about the city brings that kind of benevolent energy that she can’t help but be influenced along the way.

There are officials that check for identifications when the cart reaches the gate. The merchant hands the official a piece of wood with writings on it — which she assumes is the permit — before they are allowed to pass through. Even the security is much tighter in here.

They head straight ahead towards the market. It is ten times as crowded that the rest of the towns before combined. People pass through left and right, coming in and out of buildings, and bargaining at the booths hectically.

The environment is much more in order and cleaner. Even the ground is covered with grey cobblestone pavement, going as far until reaching the castle gate way up ahead. It is nothing like Nayla has ever experienced before. She has never gotten the chance to get out of the village before, much less this far.

With a determined resolve, she bids her goodbye to Mr. Merchant, not to forget giving many thanks for all his help. He is too kind, for even going as far as inviting her to stay at his home, whenever she feels like it. She refuses politely again, but that does not stop him from scribbling down an address on a piece of parchment. Alongside a duffle bag in one hand, Nayla steps into the crowd, her cloak drifting with the breeze.

The informants at the Central District are much more expensive compared to the last one she paid. They demand gold, not just silver. Nayla is ready to spend as much as needed, but will they try to trick her and rob her off? Her youth and appearance alone can seem pretty gullible, and she bets there are plenty of people who will be looking forward to fooling her. She must be careful, and every calculated action counts.

Unable to trust the informants, she sorts out to sitting at the side first, waiting for other customers to come in and studying their behaviour. She makes sure to pick the nearest seat at the corner, so she will not be too obvious.

“Ah, Mr. Wisely, welcome back. Is there anything I can provide you with?” one of the top informants greet a new guest. The newcomer dressed fancy and smart, and she can tell even from the way he walks that he is someone rich or important. Or both. Probably both.

“Nothing much, unless you can somehow give me an answer to the increasing number of mysterious deaths that has been occurring all over the town’s borders. I have a reputation to uphold to, and this situation is clearly proving to be unacceptable!” he says rudely, angry and frustrated.

“No problem, Mr. Wisely. Ah, how about I give the first information for free? Think of it as a, ah, token of gratitude, for having been a loyal customer of us for so long, yes? Take a sit, please,” he gestures for the man flatteringly, before turning around and yells at one of his employees. “Leeran, bring us some tea!”

“No need,” the customer says flatly. “Just tell me what I want to know.”

“Ah, alright then. Well you see, I have been hearing a lot of things from my network, of someone by the name of Lunarre. He is an...” he looks around warily, as if afraid that the person himself might listen in, before continuing, “...assassin, you see. He works in this troop called the Scattered Bones, a secret assassin guild.”

“I know as much as that, informant! Now give me something more useful than a word from the streets. I will pay you with however much you want, as long as it is reliable,” the man says impatiently, grounding his teeth.

“Well, I’ve also heard that the Scattered Bones are actually posing as merchants. That is why there has been a lot of murders happening all across the country. They come as the merchant goes.”

His words make Nayla goes wary. She had been traveling with merchants just before. They can’t be a troop of assassins posing as harmless, hard working merchants, can they? No, that can’t be, she quickly shakes her head from the ridiculous idea.

Besides, the murders do not match up. She has not heard of any killing during her brief stay at Aldonah. And there is already a dead body by the time they arrived at Gandald.

“And who is this yellow-eyed demon I have been hearing about? He is making the knights look like a bunch of idiots with the trail of bodies he left behind,” the man retorts curtly, turning her attention back to them abruptly.

Could this be? Nayla can’t help but wonder wishfully. Just her luck. If this is the same person she has been hunting for, then she really must hear about this! Not to mention that she doesn’t have to spend a dime on it.

“It is the assassin, Mr. Wisely!” exclaims the flamboyant informant. “And Lunarre is his name! He has been on the radar for quite some time, sir, and words have it the nobles are hiring him to get rid of their business rivals and enemies, because he is the best of the best.”

“And how does this Lunarre person look?”

“He has this big yellow eyes, like a demon. Has long pointy ears too, abnormal. He has this long blonde hair that is usually tied to a bushy knot, but that’s not important. What disturbs witnesses the most is that expression on his face, smiling twistedly like a madman.”

All of his descriptions fit her target precisely. This is it! There is no way she can forget that night. The memory of the way he silently laughed at her still burn freshly in her mind. This must be him!

The man reaches into his pocket and places the object on the table, which reveals to be a bag of gold. “Do you know where I can find this guy?” he asks pointedly.

“The borders, the city, the market, even the castle! You can’t predict where this guy will go, but he can get to anywhere at almost any time whenever he pleases,” the informant quickly blurs out at the sight of money. “There is no way to spot this guy at one place twice. It is impossible to find this guy, unless you are looking to hire him.”

“So you are saying that I should impose as a hiree in order to make this guy show up?” That comes out as a rhetorical question. There is no more doubt. With a steel expression, the man takes off, leaving the bag of gold on the table. “Keep the rest,” he says without turning back.

But Nayla is already on her feet. She quickly rushes out from the building, her feet taking her away. She needs to act soon. But first, she will need a plan.

Just as she is about to cross the road, something firm and hard hits her in the shoulder. Disorientated, the girl finds herself almost tripping over nothing — or at least that is what she first thought — in the middle of the street. Someone grabs her shoulder in order to prevent her from falling. She turns around to find a boy in brown hair.

“Thanks. Sorry about that,” she quickly mutters.

“You’re welcome,” he says with a wolfish grin. “Wait, why are you apologizing again?”

“I hit you in the shoulder, right? Sorry again, I didn’t really see you,” she apologizes for the second time.

“Nah, it’s okay,” the boy says. He glances to his side in a slightly concerned facial expression. She thinks he is about to say something, but quickly dismiss it. “Are you okay?” he asks, but he is not looking at her.

“I’m fine,” she replies, though she thinks it is rather rude of him to be like that. “Well, I better get going then,” she parts ways with the boy.

Losing herself in the crowd, Nayla goes to find a temporary place to stay in, so that she can think of a plan.

The assassin will seek for someone to hire him next, which means the only chance for her to find him is to pose as a client. That way, he might just let his guard down. Enough for her to attack him. He might get caught by surprise, and that is when she will take advantage of the chance.

The problem is, how is she going to reach out to him?

Nayla is fully aware that what she is about to do is very crucial and dangerous. She can get killed in the process, if she is not careful enough. But she has been training hard, working day and night, for this opportunity. Her vengeance shall be vanquished, and she will stop at nothing to hunt down this man.

This time she will really have to spend some good money on information. If she doesn’t, and the guards get to him first, it will be much more difficult for her to kill him. She knows that she needs to act fast and wary.

Her days are consumed with circling around the market, trying to get things done, plotting and preparing. Everything has to be carefully calculated and arranged. She can not afford to mess this chance up. She is so occupied with her own thoughts that she doesn’t realize it when she runs into someone again.

“You again!” the brown haired boy exclaims in a pleasant surprise.

“Er, hi, sorry for bumping into you again,” she apologizes awkwardly.

“Hahaha, that’s okay. Hey, while you’re here, why don’t I introduce myself? My name is Sorey,” he says, extending his one hand.

“Nayla,” she responds, shaking his hand. While she is at that, she finally takes in his appearance.

The boy has tan skin, probably from spending so much time under the sun. His emerald eyes whenever he speaks animatedly. He wears this strange cloak design, which has some mysterious symbols embroidered on it. He also has a sword sheathed at one side of his waist. From the looks of it, he might be trained on wielding it.

“You don’t seem to be from around here.” Wait, what is she doing? This is no time to be making friends. She has plans to plot!

“Haha, is it that obvious?” He scratches the back of his head, laughing it off. “Are you from this town?”

“No, I’m just visiting. I don’t plan to stay for long, though.”

“Man, it sure is hard outside, huh? I’ve never been outside my village before, so I’m not really used to things.” She nods, understanding what he is going through.

She knows that she should have stay focused, but she thinks that she needs the break. As fellow outsiders, they get along pretty well. After that, she even invites him for lunch, her treat. Nayla needs to feel human again, especially with what she is about to do, and talking to the boy provides her with that human comfort. When it starts to get dark, they part ways.

. . . . .

It is late at night. The stars are sparkling in the dark sky while the moon hangs far above, while the sound of chirping crickets fills up the cold air.

A hooded figure approach the meeting place by a rooftop. Nayla has been waiting for this chance for so long. She prepares herself for the attack, clutching hard the hilt of the dagger inside her cloak. But when the figure walks closer, it is not the same pair of golden eyes that she expects.

Where is he? she pounders in frustration. Then she figures that it must have been another member of the so called assassin guild. It will be suspicious if she just ends the meeting suddenly, so she proceeds with her backup plan.

“Hello. Are you the person?” she asks.

“Yes,” the cloaked figure responds, the voice unidentifiable. “Do you have the name and the money?”

Nayla nudges at the bag of coins sitting by her feet. “It’s yours if you can get the job done.”

“Who do you want to eliminate?” he asks.

She gives him a fake name and title, yet the hooded figure nods in agreement anyway. Just as she is about to end the meeting, she spots Sorey wondering by the street, just below them. Her gesture does not go unnoticed. He quickly becomes wary, thinking that this might be a trap. The man takes out a sword, which has been hidden underneath his cloak.

Nayla gasps in surprise. He swings his sword at him, and it comes in contact with a clash. The girl uses her own weapon to defend herself, but the difference in strength is just too much. Cold sweat forms on her forehead as she is losing her grip fast.

Pathetic! This is pathetic! And now she is going to die because of a reckless behaviour. Goodbye, father, she thinks sorrowfully.

The assassin retrieves his sword, only to swing back with a full force. Nayla watches as the sharp edge closes down towards her, behind a whip of water comes out of nowhere and flings the sword off the man’s hand.

He backs off in a haste, cursing. He can’t figure out who has attacked him, so he decides to do the wiser thing and retreats. 

“Are you okay?” Sorey skips to the roof in three adept jumps.

“What was that? Did you do that? Are you a seraph?” she bombs her with questions, still a bit shocked.

“Woah, calm down. I’m not a seraph! I’m just a normal human, just like you,” he answers, backing off slightly. “If I am, you wouldn’t be able to see me, would you?”

Nayla gives him an eyeful, before finally settling. “That makes sense,” she says. “But if it was not you, then who did that?”

“The girl should just thank us and move along,” comes a new voice.

It is the sound of a male, she identifies it. The voice is soft yet masculine, stern and curtly, almost lecturing-like.

“Who said that?” she bursts out in panic. Nayla looks around frantically, but finds nobody else near the roof except for her and Sorey.

“Wait a minute, did you just hear—” The boy looks at her with surprise in his green eyes.

“Do you have someone along with you? Where is he hiding?” she cuts him off, questions him abruptly once more.

“That can’t be. It’s impossible. There is no way a human can hear me,” the voice says again, but the source still remains invisible. He is nearby, but where? “Wait, are you actually hearing me?”

“Who are you? What do you want?” she questions the voice, though still blind of his form.

“It’s true. This is real!” Sorey exclaims, somehow in an overly ecstatic tone.

“What’s going on?” Nayla asks him in confusion, still wary.

“Who you’re hearing is—”

“Don’t tell her anything!” the voice snaps. “She can be dangerous!”

“Oh come on, Mikleo. The girl is harmless. You saw how she almost got herself killed,” the boy says to his right, though she still can’t see anyone else present.

That causes her to fall into a fighting stance. “Why are you talking to air? Is that where the enemy is?”

“Wow, calm down, Nayla. Mikleo is a friend. He was the one who saved you,” Sorey informs her.

“You don’t need to tell her that. Let’s just get out of here,” the disappointed voice says in a dismissal tone, but his friend has an entirely different idea in his mind.

“Wait, how do you know about seraphs?” the brown haired boy asks her curiously.

Nayla tries to come up with an answer, but she finds herself gaping with no sound. How did she know? What does that even mean, though? The word rolls out from her tongue ever so naturally, but it was just in the heat of the moment. The truth is, she has no idea.

“I—” She shakes her head. “I’m not sure.”

“But you can hear Mikleo — though not at first — and you are familiar with the term, even though you don’t know what it means. This is an important discovery. You must be just like me!” he exclaims in excitement.

“Just like you? What do you mean? Are you a seraph too?”

“No. As I’ve told you, I’m human. But I was raised in a village of seraph—”

“Sorey, I am suggesting that you stop telling her things right now—” the invisible voice cuts in irritably.

“—which makes me able to see them. You must have been exposed to seraphs at some point in your life, too.”

The girl shakes her head. “But I don’t know anyone.”

“Think about it. It has to be a prolonged exposure, something that could have lasted for months, or perhaps years.”

Nayla tries to figure out what the boy implies, but she just can’t think of a logical explanation. Though she is intrigued by how this happens.

A suddenly maniacal laughter echoes from an opposite roof, earning the trio’s attention expeditiously. Her eyes widen when she recognizes that face. The night might be dark, but those golden eyes of his stand out from the duskiness. That man . . . there is no questioning it.

All kinds of negative emotions invade her mind at once. All of those wrath, hate and uncontrollable needs of violence overwhelms her mind. She can start feeling it, the need to take revenge. It is burning her body ever so strongly that it makes her shake with fury.

This is the man that killed her mother in cold blood. She has been looking all over places to find him, and he has finally shown his face to her. He watches them from afar, while his lips twitch into a knowing sneer.

That bastard! He is enjoying this, she thinks bitterly.

Unbeknown to Nayla, thick purplish bubbles begin to evaporate from her body, gathering around her and forming in a mass of malevolence. All of those impure and defiling thoughts are raiding her mind, fueling her with more malice.

She wants to kill him! And she wants to do it so badly, she will do just about anything to have him dead! It is not fair that her mother must die while her killer is still roaming free.

Besides, he is a serial murderer. A person who takes money for murder is a bad person, right? So it is perfectly acceptable for her to kill him, right? The world will be a much better place without him around, anyway.

He is an evil son of a b***h, and he deserves to die!

Sorey and Mikleo notice the changes upon her. She is turning into a malevolence, and soon! They have to act quick, if they want to salvage her.

Sorey is about to take action, when Mikleo steps up first. He has never seen his childhood friend go so far for a human before. And this is also not the first time he has witness this. There is something going on that he does not know yet.

Nayla feels a pull by her cloak, but she ignores it. She is still busy thinking of how she is going to attack the assassin.

“Lunarre! I’m going to end your life tonight!” she exclaims with a strong murderous intent.

“Huh? What’s this? A little girl? What? You think you can kill me? How adorable,” he says in a demeaning tone. He stares down at her like he is looking at a scum underneath his shoes, and they way he acts upon her makes her positively livid.

“Why you—” Nayla is about to head towards him, when the pull on her cloak returns, this time more forcefully than before. She is so caught up in her own thoughts that she does not realize what is going on. One moment she is standing, and the second someone is holding her down. She has no idea what the person is doing, because she can’t see the person!

It’s that Mikleo guy! What is he doing? “No, let go of me!” she orders him, before she can find her arms being held down by a pair of invisible strong arms. She tries to push him off of her, but he just keeps coming in.

“Relax. See these bubbles? You’re turning into a malevolence. If you keep this up, you’re gonna turn into a monster. You do want that to happen?”

She does not know why, but something about his words is making her angry, though not entirely the same anger she feels towards the assassin.

“What? How dare you call me a monster! Who are you to judge me, anyway? I bet you’re actually really ugly in person!” she shouts at him.

Whatever he is doing to her, it causes her evident hatred to slowly disappears, though not completely.

“Miss Nayla, please calm down,” Sorey tries to talk her out of it, explaining the dire situation she is in carefully. “What Mikleo says is right. Malevolence is a very serious symptom. If you don’t cease this, you might turn into a hellion, which in truth is a hideous monster.”

“Are you guys for real?” she says, this in disbelieve. Why would she trust a bunch of strangers, anyway. Besides, it is not like she knows much about that Sorey guy, so there is really no reason for her to take account of his words.

In truth, Nayla is doing thinking this way because she is not in her right mind. The malevolence is messing up her judgement. If this continues on, it will be difficult to prevent her from really transforming into a hellion. They need to think of something.

Nayla keeps trying to free herself from this Mikleo guy. What is with his deal, anyway? Why can’t he just mind his own business? She has a man to hunt down, and the longer he prevents her from moving, the slimmer is the chance of her getting to exact her revenge.

Mikleo is running out of ideas. The girl refuses to be constrained. She keeps swinging her arms so violently. He tries to hold her down, but she dodges down, accidentally brushing against something she does not mean to touch.

The girl feels something warm and stiff underneath her hand. Nayla is not that experienced, but she just knows it when she feels it. It’s his . . . his . . .

The malevolence on her disappears almost instantly, replaced by a panic yelp erupting from the back of her throat. “No!” she screams, yanking her body off of him. She can’t believe it. What she just touched . . . It can’t be. She shakes her head in denial, too shocked and fearful with the truth. “No, this can’t be happening,” she says, close to tears.

Mikleo wants to hit himself on the forehead. How could he has let this to happen. He can’t really blame the girl, because she can’t see him. He is supposed to watch out about this kind of thing, but he is too distracted in preventing her from attacking Lunarre, that he has somehow put past him to watch out for her.

But what frustrates him more is the way his body voluntarily reacts to her. She has been thrashing, grazing and nuzzling against him. Of course, at some point, something is bound to happen. Like the collected mind he always is, Mikleo tries to ignore the fact that she is making a bodily reaction upon him. He does not want to upset her more than she already is.

This is so embarrassing. No doubt that Sorey is trying to control himself from laughing out loud. He doesn’t want to offend the girl now, does he?

“Awh, this is so boring. And here I thought that something interesting is gonna happen. Seraph boy, if you’re trying to mate, better find someplace else, will you? You’re distracting my hunting ground,” Lunarre says with a yawn, before jumping down, disappearing into the night.

“Wait! I’m not done with you yet!” Nayla shouts after him, but he is already long gone. Great! She just lost her chance!

Suddenly, the girl is feeling lightheaded. What with the emotional stress her body has gone through, combined with being overpowered with a dark violent force upon her body, and that— last incident . . . It all just became too much. She is so tired. She soon finds herself losing her balance, toppling to one side. Everything distorts in her sight, before her eyelids close to sleep.

In her dream, she pictures her mother. She is with her again, alive and well. The sight of her reduces Nayla to tears.

“I’m sorry, Mum. I’m such a useless daughter. Your murderer was in front of me, yet I could not kill him,” she says in tears. Why is she so weak? She hates this.

“Huh now, my darling! You did nothing wrong,” she tells her, pulling her daughter into an embrace. Her mother is still as young and as gentle as she remembers her to be. It is like the time has not changed at all.

“But, Mum, your murderer . . .”

“Now, now, darling. I want no talking about such crudeness with me. Forget about him! We have more important things to discuss,” her mother says, strangely cheerful despite the situation.

“Mum, why are you so happy?” her daughter asks in slight confusion. And what kind of talk is more important than this?

“Come here, get up! I have something you show you.” There is no shortening of that bubbliness of hers. Nayla is curious on what could make her mother so happy. If she is like this, then it must be important. But then again, isn’t she in a dream?

Her mother, Jade, leads her to a door. She pushes it open, and Nayla steps through.

Bright sunlight blinds her. She does not realize that there will be a stark contrast from the other side, but it is only because they were in a dark room. The outside looks vast, green and lively. She can see a handful of village housing just in front, with villagers roaming around in strange clothes. Far ahead, there are mountains and small forests up the hills.

Then, stranger things happen. Some villager can control the water by the river side. They fish using this ability, bending the water with the movement of their hands, while their friends help they reach out for the water with their bare hands. The villagers seem happy with their catch.

Some other uses fire to light up campfire, probably preparing for a cookout. Others are further south to the farm field, loosing and friabling the dirt using some sort of earth magic to move them up and down in steady rhythms. And when it is time to spread the seed, peculiar wind blows them away, making the seeds land right to where they seem to want them to be.

This is such an outlandish dream. She has never had this before. Nayla admires how her subconscious can work, imagining all of these details. The elements bending, especially the water movements, somehow reminds her of Sorey invincible friend. He is a water elemental as well, isn’t he? She wonders if this is also how he functions in his village, where he comes from.

Wait, does that mean they are seraphs? These villagers? But they look just like humans! Oh no, wait, this is just a dream. They are not real, she tells herself, though she soon forgets about it, as how a dream usually works.

It starts to get very confusion. Nayla has no idea what she is doing in her dream. All she can do is watch. When she turns around to see her mother, the woman just smiles up at her.

“Look at my daughter. She is already so grown up. I’m sure that you will make a find ___ some day,” she expresses estatically.

“Sorry, Mum, what did you say? I can’t hear you properly,” Nayla say, frowning by the buzzed out sound that prevents her from hearing her mother clearly.

“I said that you will make a find ___, darling. And I am sure that you will find a good husband too, one day, and together you will make me fine ___ grandchildren. Oh, I’m so happy!” she says, so full of hope.

The dream ends with Nayla opening her eyes to stare at the sight of unfamiliar ceiling. It is extravagantly lavish, unlike anything she has ever seen before. The girl lifts herself up to a sitting position, studying the new environment around her.

There are frames made out of gold everywhere — by the bed frames and posts, the furnitures, the corners of the walls, even as far as the wallpaper. Pastel cream and soft blue color invades the room. The walls are covered with filigree wallpapers which Nayla has ever seen in old books before. They are even much prettier in real life.

Even the duffett and bedding looks very luxurious. She still recalls the soft feeling of the fabrics. This room is fit for a princess.

“If you’re done admiring the walls, perhaps you can go downstairs and greet the others,” a voice suddenly speaks out, causing Nayla to jump on the spot. She turns around, but she still can’t see anyone.

“Mikleo? Is that you?” she asks, unsure.

“Well, obviously. Who else can it be?”

“What are you doing in this room?”

“I’m waiting until you wake up, of course. Sorey is overly concerned about you. He needs his rest, since he is human, so I am taking over his place in watching over you.”

“Wait, how long have you been here? Were you  . . . watching me asleep . . . ?”

“Don’t worry, I have zero interest in you. And my intention is noble,” he quickly says. She doesn’t like the tone he is using on her.

“If you’re not interested in me, then can you please explain last night’s incident to me?”

“Incident? What incident?” He knows what she means, but why is he making this hard for her. Errrgggg . . . no pun intended.

“You know what I’m talking about. Last night . . . I touched your . . . You were very  . . .” Nayla stutters, unable to utter the word. Just thinking about what happened makes her blush hard. “You know what I mean!”

“No, I don’t really. Can you please explain it to me?” His voice is suddenly so close, she can feel his warm breathe on her neck. She is momentarily compelled. He smells sweet, like fresh picked flowers and grass. Nayla finds her heart pounding faster, knowing of their unseen close proximity. If this goes on, she might be losing it . . .

“Tell me. What exactly happened last night,” he whispers, his lips teasing her by the ears. It causes the girl to blush even harder. He is toying with her, she knows, but she can’t help the bodily reaction that happens beyond her control.

“You! You— you . . .” Nayla is at a lost of words. She can not believe that this is happening. He is so close, she can practically feel the fabric of his clothes. She can hear and she can feel him. She is not ready of what is to come is he is visible to her eyes.

She can feel the warmth that is oozing off from his body, vibrating to her skin. Why can she feel him so easily, anyway? That is also when she looks down upon herself and notices that she is only wearing a very thin and skimpy nightgown.

She screams.

“What do you think you’re doing? Get out of the room! I’m not dressed properly,” she exclaims in panic, using her arms to cover herself as best as she can. She would head back to the bed and use the blanket to cover herself, but his body is blocking her from the way still.

“Hey, what are you doing?”

“Calm down, it’s not like I’m going to do anything to you,” he says, looking down at her. Or at least, that is how she thinks what he is doing.

“Calm down? Calm down? No, I am not going to just calm down! You are in a bedroom, with me, while I am wearing close to nothing! I don’t care what you say. Get out! Get out of the room at once!” she says, feeling so underdressed with her current attire.

She can hear what seems to be like him clucking his tongue. “It’s not like there is much to see, anyway,” he mutters under his breath.

“What did you say?” she asks in a warning.

“I said, Sorey and the others are waiting for breakfast. You should head down as soon as you’re done dressing up properly,” he says, about to leave the room when she calls out to him.

“Wait a minute! Where exactly are we?” she asks.

“We’re inside the Hyland palace,” he answers her calmly.

“What? How is that possible? Why are we in here? You did not sneak us in, did you?”

“Of course not. Sorey is a friend of the princess here. She is the one who permitted us to stay.”

“Oh man, you almost scared me to death. I though we’re sneaking into this place. There is no way commoners like me can ever get into this place. It’s just way too much.”

“Well, if you’re done preparing, you should get down. I’ll be waiting outside,” he says, before she can see the door opens and closes by itself.

Nayla calls out to him, checking just in case he is only moving the door for show. After she is sure that he has already left, she opens another door, which leads her to another luxurious bathroom. She has never seen anything like this before. The titles are sparkling, like marbles under the sunlight. A smaller chandelier, similar to the bigger one outside, hangs above the ceiling, leading her sight down to the white glossy bathtub.

She turns on the tap water, which flows out warm water. She tests out the temperature with her hand in satisfaction, before going for the soap. God, even the fragrant smell is fantastic! The girl can’t help but to squeal in delight by the sweet rozen scent.

After taking a relaxing bath, she dries herself and dresses up. The girl is able to find her clothes beside a set of other expensive looking gowns inside the wardrobe. Not wanting to disturb the owner’s things, her eyes briefly scan through them, before stepping into her own clothes. She doesn’t wear her cloak, but she brings it with her, carrying it in one arm before heading out and down the stairs.

The inside of the palace is just as magnificent as the bedroom she was in. The hallways are decorated with warm wood colors and red velvet carpet underneath. Paintings with excellent brushstrokes hangs on the walls, frame with intricate gold carvings. There are artistic vases with arranged flowers illuminate here and there as she heads towards a grand staircase and hops down. She is not sure where she is supposed to go, solely relying on her instinct for the unknown direction.

A maidservant greets her on her way, letting her know which way is the direction to breakfast. She leads her to a huge balcony, where it is big enough to gather a dozen people. A long dinner table is laid out before her, covered with white table clothe. All kinds of breakfast food is laid down before her, and suddenly her stomach is growling, feeling very hungry.

Good thing no one notices, or she would have been utterly mortified in front of these strangers. They all stop at the same time, noticing her arrival.