I hadn't slept through the night, and now I stood in the garden, surrounded by faces that felt both familiar and foreign—my supposed mother and father, Aunt Viv, and a few others whose presence unsettled me.
"We will be leaving now, Vivian," my supposed mother said, her tone final.
My chest tightened. "I don't wish to leave now, ma. Everything feels too rushed. You step into my life and suddenly decide to pull me away from the place I call home—because you say I am your daughter. You choose when to drop me off and when to pick me back up, as though my life is something you can pause and resume at will."
My voice trembled, but I didn't stop. "I hardly even recognize you. If not for the pictures—the majestic gowns, the fake smiles—you wouldn't even feel real to me. Life doesn't work this way. Just because you are king and queen of an unknown kingdom I barely know doesn't mean you get to rule over my life."
I swallowed hard. "You're selfish—"
The sound came before the pain.
A sharp slap landed against my cheek, silencing the garden.
It wasn't surprising that it was my supposed mother who struck me. What shocked Aunt Viv wasn't just the slap—but the words that had come before it. She stared at me as though she'd just discovered I had a voice she never knew existed.
"You need to learn manners, dear daughter," my supposed mother said coldly. "And how to control your tongue when you speak to us."
Her gaze hardened. "Do not make me show you the other tricks I have up my sleeve. I believed you were quiet, obedient—but it seems you are determined to condemn every decision we make."
She stepped closer, invading my space, her voice dropping to a whisper meant only for me.
"This," she said softly, "is just the beginning, dear daughter."
I said nothing. But in that silence, something inside me shifted—slowly, dangerously.
After what had happened, I didn't utter another word. I just stared, letting the world move around me while everyone prepared for our departure.
"You know I'm going to miss you, right?" Aunt Viv said softly, her eyes glistening. "I wish you could stay here… but I have no control over this. Just live your life, and I'll make sure to send letters and gifts to you."
"I'll miss you too, Aunt Viv," I said, my voice barely above a whisper. Then, without thinking, I hugged her tightly, holding on as if letting go would break me.
Her arms wrapped around me, and for a moment, the garden—the looming journey, the anger, the fear—felt far away. All that remained was the warmth of someone who had truly cared.
"The cart is ready," someone shouted from outside.
I looked at Aunt Viv, sadness glistening in my eyes. I wasn't one to show much emotion—aside from the occasional complaint, I usually kept everything locked inside. But this time, it felt different. My chest ached, tight and heavy, and for the first time, I felt tears threaten to fall.
I was leaving behind the two most important people in my life… to follow someone who had already raised her hand against me.
"Aunt Viv," I said softly, my voice trembling, "please make sure to visit once in a while."
She nodded, unable to speak, and I hugged her tightly once more, as if trying to memorize the warmth of her embrace. When I finally pulled away, my hands lingered for a moment before letting go.
"Let's go," my supposed mother's voice rang out from afar, sharp and impatient.
I turned and began to walk toward the door. Just before stepping out, I glanced back—and that was when I saw Raya. She stood behind me, silent, tears streaming down her face as she tried to hide her sobs.
My steps faltered.
But I didn't stop.
Then I looked back once more—and Raya ran toward me. She threw her arms around me in a fierce hug.
"Be well, my princess," she whispered, her voice trembling. "My prayers will guide you."
She looked into my eyes, holding my gaze for a long moment, before finally pulling away.
I swallowed hard, forcing my voice steady. "Continue to be good, and take care of Aunt Viv. I'll come back… definitely… some day."
After saying that, I turned and walked toward the cart. I didn't look back again. My steps were slow and deliberate, each one a battle against the tears threatening to fall. My chest ached, but I forced the sorrow down, knowing that some farewells were meant to be silent.
As soon as the cart began to move, I looked out through the window and smiled—not a happy smile, but the kind that comes when tears are forced to stay behind.
The departure was not an easy one for me, but what choice did I have? Some paths are chosen for us.
I rested my head against the side of the cart, watching the castle fade into the distance, and silently promised myself that this would not be the end—only the beginning of something I had yet to understand.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't notice night had already fallen until the cart came to a halt.
"We'll be camping here," my supposed mother said. "Hopefully, by tomorrow, we'll reach our kingdom."
I nodded silently and stepped out of the cart.
That night, as everyone slept, I sat beside the bushes and hummed softly to myself. I hadn't realized how tired I was until sleep quietly claimed me, and I drifted off on the log where I sat.
After a while, I began to gasp for air, trapped in a nightmare that felt far too real. My chest tightened, and just when it felt unbearable, I drew in one sharp, desperate breath and jolted awake. I sat there and forced myself to calm down, too afraid to surrender to sleep again. The night felt longer than it should have, stretched thin by fear and thoughts I couldn't silence.
So I sang—softly at first—then hummed low melodies beneath my breath, letting the sound steady my heart. I stayed that way until the darkness slowly lifted and morning finally found me, pale and quiet, as if nothing had happened at all.