The sound of someone knocking at the door jolted her awake. Cerena had quickly fallen asleep after her arrival the day before; the fatigue and worry gnawing at her had left her utterly exhausted.

  The light filtering through the curtains suggested that the sun had been up for several hours.

  With tousled hair, she sprang from her bed and tried to restore order to her attire and her thoughts. How could her first night at the palace have felt so peaceful?

  She was certain that the Emperor would have been angry after her flight five years prior and that he would have reprimanded her upon her return. Yet, following the confrontation the day before, all that remained was a sense of confusion and unease—and he had not come to see her either.

  Her previous encounters with the Emperor had been stormy, to say the least, though distant. After the months of abuse she had endured, she had never seen him again. Owen’s fortuitous intervention had led her to the dungeons for the remainder of her time at the palace, and she retained no memory of how it had ended.

  But the abuses were not her only fear. The long months of isolation and solitude had left her with profound psychological scars. At the time, only Owen’s presence within those walls had allowed her to endure…

  But that was no longer the case. Now, she was alone in enemy territory, and no one would come to her rescue. At least, she hoped not. Though she despised this place—and what it represented—above all, she was willing to accept it if it meant her children could live safe and free, far from here. Better it be her than them.

  There was another knock at the door. Cerena, standing in the center of the room, faced the source of the noise and called for the person to come in.

  The door opened gently, and a middle-aged woman stepped inside, carrying a tray. She inclined her head slightly and closed the door behind her, then turned to Cerena. Her face lit up with a smile, her eyes sparkling.

  “It is an honor to see you again, My Lady,” she said.

  Cerena furrowed her brows slightly, trying to recall the woman’s face. She had aged a little, but it was her handmaiden from her previous stay at the palace. A faint memory surfaced: in the cold dungeon, when hunger and exhaustion had nearly overcome her, the handmaiden’s visit had brought a gentle, comforting touch.

  At the memory, Cerena’s eyes filled with tears, which she refused to let fall.

  The handmaiden delicately placed the tray on the table.

  “I am delighted to see you in such good health,” she added.

  She paused to choose her words.

  “I have wished with all my heart that you remain safe and unharmed.”

  Her astonishing solicitude drew from Cerena a questioning, worried glance.

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  “Do you not… risk trouble by speaking to me?” she asked.

  The handmaiden smiled and replied tenderly,

  “Do not worry, My Lady. Things are no longer as they were. I know he may seem harsh, but His Majesty can also be understanding. You will likely notice it yourself, in time.”

  Cerena raised her eyebrows, doubtful. Things could not be so simple. It was certainly a scheme to manipulate her. She was no longer that naive girl; she would not be fooled a second time.

  “I heard you had a long journey. I have brought you something to eat. Take your time. I shall return later with fresh clothes and a few things for you to wash up.”

  The woman left the room without delay. Cerena listened for the sound of the lock turning… which never came.

  She found it strange, thinking she may have been negligent. But she was too hungry to care. She sat at the table, examining the dishes on the tray one by one, each making her mouth water. She took a piece of bread, and just as she was about to bite into it with relish, she suddenly stopped, seized by a deep doubt.

  In her mind, the Emperor had never attempted to poison her… but could she be certain? During their very first encounter, she had lost consciousness… Perhaps she had been drugged without knowing it. And if the situation were to repeat itself?

  Out of caution, she ultimately decided not to touch the food. “Never mind the hunger,” she told herself. She would survive, as always.

  ???

  A little while later, the handmaiden returned, accompanied by two guards, each carrying buckets of hot water. After several trips, the large tub in her room was filled, and the guards left them in privacy.

  Noticing the untouched dishes, the handmaiden frowned.

  “My Lady, you must eat,” she said with concern. “You need your strength.”

  Without a word, Cerena looked away. The handmaiden sighed.

  “You have nothing to fear.”

  She approached the table.

  “Please, let this remain between us.”

  She cut a small piece of bread and brought it to her lips. She then took the cup, filled it with water, and drank it in one go.

  “It is not poisoned. I guarantee it personally.”

  Cerena, wide-eyed, could not believe it. No one had ever taken such a risk for her at the palace. Not even her handmaiden. She remained speechless.

  “Let us begin with your bath… if you will allow me,” the woman concluded.

  After undressing her, she invited Cerena into the tub, massaging and gently washing her body.

  The month-long journey had offered her not a single true pause. She had worn the same clothes day and night. This was the first time in all that time she had been granted a moment of real respite. She had almost forgotten the sensation of cleanliness; the fragrant oils rising from the warm water made her head spin slightly.

  She had never forgotten the warmth emanating from the handmaiden’s hands as they combed her hair with care—the last human contact she had received before fleeing the palace. Even today, the gesture gave her a strange sense of security, fragile and deceptive, in this palace where appearances were so misleading.

  After her bath, the handmaiden brought her a fresh set of clothes—lighter than the ones she had worn leaving the village. She bowed respectfully and left the room. Once again, the door remained unlocked.

  Thinking she was not yet done with surprises, Cerena finally decided to eat while she still could.