chapter 5
1111 Words
I heard the sudden flapping of wings. It was Zara’s parrot.
The bird was striking, green with a red forehead, blue flight feathers, and a yellow belly. It perched nearby, chirping in a high pitch, its feathers puffed as it stared at me without blinking. It looked… angry.
It spread its wings as if preparing to attack.
I stood up slowly, ready to run. In my haste, I dropped Zara’s book. Its hard cover hit the floor with a loud thud.
Startled, the parrot launched into the air.
It attacked.
It nipped at my back and head as I ran out of Zara’s room. I slammed the door behind me, making sure it couldn’t follow.
Breathing heavily, I went straight to my mother’s room.
Why would she let Zara keep a bird like that?
Mother was still choosing designs for the dress she would wear to the wedding. Zara soon entered, carrying Albert, her parrot. The bird fixed me with a sharp glare.
“Mom, why does Zara have a parrot?” I asked.
The parrot repeated my words in a mocking tone. Zara laughed. Even Mother smiled.
“Why do you ask? She’s had it for a while,” Mother replied calmly.
“I know, but did you know it’s wild?”
“Albert is not wild,” Zara snapped. “He was just scared. You scared him.”
“Don’t bring him around me without a cage,” I said firmly.
Mother stretched out her arm, and the bird gently hopped onto it. She stroked its feathers, and it relaxed instantly.
I frowned. It attacked me, yet behaved so sweetly with her.
To me, it was still a wild creature.
Mother finally chose Zara’s dress and began talking excitedly about the wedding. After the seamstress left, I noticed a wooden box on the table beside her bed. It had a strange logo, not the crest of Aldovia.
I had seen that symbol before.
Curious, I opened it.
Inside was the same antique necklace Mother called “Protector.”
“Drop the box,” she said sharply.
I didn’t argue. She had always been overly protective of her jewels, as if someone’s life depended on them.
The royal dining hall shimmered under crystal chandeliers, casting a warm golden glow. Tapestries lined the walls, telling stories of Aldovia’s ancestors. The polished floor reflected the long dining table, which was adorned with the royal crest, fine glassware, silver cutlery, and fresh flowers.
Everyone was dressed exquisitely.
Rahan wore a white cotton shirt with a sleeveless blue satin jacket embroidered in gold, paired with leather shoes. His father wore a deep wine-colored robe, while my father wore royal blue. The heavy golden crowns on their heads spoke of power and authority.
Dinner progressed smoothly.
Rahan and I were dressed in matching colors, which felt far too deliberate to be a coincidence.
Music filled the hall, played by my father’s favorite band. They had also performed at my parents’ wedding. Appetizers were served, followed by the main course. When the music ended, six jesters stepped forward to entertain us.
They wore ridiculous outfits, pulled exaggerated faces, and performed amusing stunts.
One of them looked familiar.
He performed tricks, even making one of his teammates disappear—the same one I recognized. But I caught a glimpse of him slipping behind the curtains.
Where was he going?
Quietly, I excused myself and followed him.
He moved confidently through hidden passages, as though he knew the palace well. Eventually, he reached a part of the castle I had never seen before. A large iron door stood ahead, secured with five locks.
He paused, scanning his surroundings, then continued.
That was when I recognized him.
He was the same man I had seen earlier in the kitchen with a guard.
He stopped again at a large painting, lifted it, and revealed a hole in the wall. From inside the room, another painting concealed the opening.
Where were the guards?
If that door was so heavily secured, then whatever lay inside must be important.
The treasury.
He slipped through the hole.
I peered inside. The room was small, filled with shelves, cabinets, and display cases overflowing with gold and jewelry.
The thief was careful. He only took what wouldn’t be easily noticed.
I needed to get the guards.
I ran back toward the dining hall. Luckily, I remembered seeing some guards there earlier.
When I reached them, I spoke quickly, trying not to cause a scene. But it was too late. My father noticed.
“What is wrong?” he asked.
I told him everything.
We hurried to the treasury. My father unlocked the door, but the room appeared untouched.
“If I had the only key, how did he enter?” he asked, eyeing me with suspicion.
I stepped forward, removed the painting, and revealed the hidden hole.
Immediately, the celebration came to a halt. All the entertainers were gathered and lined up before us.
I scanned their faces.
He wasn’t there.
“Where is the last jester?” I asked.
“We don’t know,” one of them said nervously. “He’s not part of our group.”
I turned to my father. “He’s not here.”
Moments later, two guards dragged in a beaten man.
It was him.
“Sir, we found him in the kitchen,” one guard reported.
The hall fell silent.
Gold was discovered hidden in his clothes.
“Why did you come here?” my father demanded.
The thief said nothing. He only begged.
My father stepped forward, ready to strike him.
“I’ll talk—” the man began.
A blade pierced his back.
Gasps echoed through the hall.
My uncle Benjamin stood behind him.
“Take him to the dungeon,” he ordered calmly.
Then he turned to my father. “We will find out how he breached our security.”
His eyes flicked toward me, sharp and unsettling.
“Find out and report back,” my father said.
Just like that, the matter was closed.
But something wasn’t right.
The hole in the wall didn’t look new. It had been there for a long time, carefully hidden. And tonight, of all nights, there were barely any guards in the palace.
And my uncle had silenced the thief before he could speak.
I looked at him.
He was already watching me.
Then he smiled.
“But amidst all this chaos,” he said loudly, “we must applaud my niece for her bravery. She is truly a gem.”
He began clapping, and soon everyone joined.
But I knew.
He wasn’t praising me.
He was changing the subject.
- Writer
