Midnight Tomorrow- Part 1
1164 Words
The Midnight Prince
“Did the princess find the boy after that?” my daughter asked.
I watched the fire bend around the wood, gold and blue at the edges.
“No,” I said. “Not yet.”
My son groaned. “She keeps almost finding him.”
“Yes.”
“That is annoying.”
“It was worse for her,” I said softly. “Because every time she almost found him, she found another piece of the life he had been forced to survive.”
My daughter hugged her knees. “Did she find someone who knew him?”
I smiled faintly.
“She found his sister.”
Moon
Lady Seraphine screamed Nara’s name loud enough to make every servant in the west hall flinch.
“Nara!”
The girl beside me went pale.
Not nervous.
Pale.
All the warmth from our conversation in the garden vanished from her face as if someone had opened a window and let winter in.
“I have to go,” she whispered.
I glanced toward the direction of the voice. “Wait.”
Nara shook her head so quickly the ribbon in her hair slipped loose. “I can’t. If I delay even one minute, the Luna will get angry.”
The way she said angry made something cold settle behind my ribs.
Not irritated.
Not displeased.
Angry.
Like angry was a punishment with hands.
“You are only showing me to my room,” I said carefully. “That was her order, was it not?”
“Yes, but if I take too long, she’ll say I did it wrong.”
Storm stirred beneath my skin.
I kept my voice gentle. “Then let us go before she decides breathing is also a delay.”
Nara blinked.
Then, despite herself, she almost smiled.
Almost.
We walked quickly through the side hall, past polished walls and portraits arranged with perfect precision. I noticed what was missing before I noticed what was there.
Alpha Torren.
Lady Seraphine.
Callan.
Cael.
Pack ancestors.
Snow wolves with proud eyes and silver-trimmed coats.
But no Ashen.
No Elowyn Frostveil.
No fated mate who had died giving birth to a daughter.
No son they claimed was sickly.
No daughter they called omega.
Erased.
That was what this house did.
It polished what it wanted seen and locked the rest behind servant doors.
Nara led me to the guest wing, where three rooms had been prepared for my mother, Solan, and me. The bedding was fresh, the hearth laid, the curtains drawn back to show a view of the frozen gardens.
Beautiful.
Too beautiful.
The kind of room made to convince guests that nothing ugly lived beneath the roof.
“This is yours,” Nara said, setting a folded towel on the edge of the bed. “Her Majesty’s room is beside it, and Prince Solan’s is across the hall.”
“You did all this?”
She shrugged. “Some of it.”
“How much is some?”
Her mouth pressed shut.
I sat on the edge of the bed, not because I was tired, but because standing above her felt wrong.
“Nara.”
She looked at me cautiously.
“When are you leaving?”
Her face closed.
I hated that I had caused it.
“You said tomorrow,” I added softly. “After you turn eighteen.”
She clutched the towel basket tighter. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“But you did.”
“And now I’m regretting it.”
“That is fair.”
She stared at me, confused by my agreement.
I leaned forward. “I am not going to tell anyone.”
“People always say that.”
“I know.”
“My brother says secrets are only safe if you keep them in your mouth and swallow the key.”
That sounded like him.
Too much like him.
The masked boy who had swallowed his own name rather than give it to me.
I forced my voice to stay calm. “Your brother sounds careful.”
“He has to be.”
The words came out before she could stop them.
Then she looked away.
My heart tightened.
“When?” I asked.
Nara hesitated for so long I thought she would refuse.
Then she whispered, “Midnight tomorrow.”
Midnight.
Of course.
Everything important in this story seemed determined to happen at midnight.
I looked at her hands. They were small, work-worn, and red at the knuckles from cold water and soap.
“I know this is last minute,” I said, “but may I see you before you go?”
Her eyes snapped to mine. “Why?”
“I would like to give you something.”
“I don’t need anything.”
“That is not what I asked.”
Suspicion sharpened her face. “Why would you give me a present?”
Because you feel familiar, I thought.
Because I saw a white wolf in chains inside a boy who might be your brother.
Because no one in this house seems to protect you except him.
Because I do not know you, and still some part of me wants to.
Instead, I said, “Because I think we could be friends.”
Nara stared at me like I had offered her a kingdom and a knife at the same time.
“I don’t have friends.”
“I noticed.”
“That’s rude.”
“It was meant kindly.”
“That’s worse.”
I smiled. “Possibly.”
Her lips twitched again.
This time, the smile stayed a second longer.
“You promise you won’t tell?”
“I promise.”
“Not even your mother?”
That one cost me.
But I understood why she asked.
“I will not tell anyone where you are meeting unless I believe your life is in danger.”
Her expression tightened.
“That sounds like a princess answer.”
I froze.
Nara’s eyes widened as if she had realized what she said too late.
I smiled gently. “It is a careful answer.”
She studied me for a long moment.
Then she nodded once.
“Fine. I’ll meet you before we leave.”
“Thank you.”
“But if my brother says no—”
“Then I will respect that.”
She seemed surprised again.
Before she could answer, Seraphine’s voice cut through the hall.
“Nara!”
Nara flinched so hard the basket slipped in her arms.
“I have to go.”
“Go,” I said.
She was already backing toward the door.
“Do not run,” I added.
She paused.
Then walked quickly instead, which somehow made me sadder.
When she vanished down the hall, I stood and crossed to the window.
Outside, the snow continued to fall over SilvaFrost.
Soft.
Quiet.
Beautiful.
A perfect blanket over a house full of things no one wanted seen.
- Writer
