I remained seated as my supposed father walked past and said, "We will soon be departing. There's no time to waste."
After speaking, he continued on his way, barely sparing me a glance.
After he said that, everyone climbed back into the cart, myself included, and the journey continued. I rested my head against the window as the soft morning breeze brushed my face, and the sunlight shone warmly against my skin.
The journey continued at a slow pace, and everyone remained quiet, the only sounds being the wheels of the cart and the faint rustle of the wind.
Finally, the silence was broken by my supposed mother. "Welcome to your new kingdom, Thaloria," she said, smiling at me.
I looked out the window, and my breath caught. The kingdom was breathtaking. Flowers of every color bloomed along the streets, small huts and workshops bustled with activity, and the air seemed alive with the hum of life and work. Everywhere I looked, there was movement, color, and sound—a world so different from the quiet castle I had left behind.
I stepped out of the cart and looked around. It felt like an entirely new world. People bustled past, their voices bright with greetings and laughter, and I couldn't shake the feeling that I didn't belong. Everyone seemed to glance at me, curiosity written on their faces—perhaps because I looked… different.
Suddenly, my supposed mother walked beside me. "This is your home now. Learn its ways, and it will serve you well," she said.
I kept walking, my eyes ahead, giving her no reaction. My steps were steady, my face unreadable. I wouldn't show her that this new world unsettled me—not yet.
Immediately, the doors opened, and a line of maids appeared, standing perfectly straight. In unison, they said, "Welcome back, Your Highnesses."
I froze for a moment, startled. There was something… disturbing about it—their synchronized voices, their rigid posture, and the way their eyes flicked toward me as if measuring me. It was far from the warmth I had expected, and a shiver ran down my spine.
...
I was now in my new quarters, and everything about it felt… wrong. The arrangements were nothing like what I had at Orindale. My old room had always been calm, with soft aesthetics and natural designs that made it feel like a sanctuary. This room, however, was different—bright, almost garish colors clashed with one another, and strange, disturbing statues and sculptures lined the walls, their forms twisted in ways that made my skin crawl.
I sank onto the bed and let out a quiet sigh, my mind was spinning.
Then there was a knock at the door.
"Who is it?" I asked, a small hope flickering in my chest—I almost wanted to hear Raya's voice. Saying "it's I Raya".
But instead, the voice on the other side said, "It's I, Mia, your new personal maid."
A wave of sadness washed over me. It felt like the universe was mocking me. I let out a quiet sigh. "Come in."
The door creaked open, and she stepped inside, bowing slightly as her eyes met mine.
"I'll be explaining certain rules and regulations to you," she said stiffly. "I was instructed to educate you, as you lack knowledge of what it means to be a proper princess. For every act of disobedience, there will be a penalty. Whether you are a princess or not, you must abide by every rule put in place."
After saying that, she forced a smile—one that didn't reach her eyes—and walked away.
I wasn't surprised. I hadn't expected anything different from this castle or its people. They carried the same aura as my supposed parents—cold, rigid, and unyielding. And in that moment, I understood that this kingdom wasn't built on warmth or love, but on control.
After a while, Mia returned carrying a stack of heavy books. She placed them on the table with a dull thud.
"They contain the rules of Thaloria," she said flatly. "Every princess and member of royalty must follow them."
I opened the first book, my fingers hesitating as I turned the page. The very first rule stared back at me, bold and unforgiving.
YOUR BEDROOM DOOR MUST REMAIN UNLOCKED AT ALL TIMES.
PRIVACY IS CONSIDERED A PRIVILEGE, NOT A RIGHT.
I felt my stomach twist.
What kind of kingdom feared locked doors? What kind of rulers believed privacy was something to be earned?
I slowly closed the book, aware of the door behind me—and how exposed I truly was.
"You can leave," I said to Mia.
She bowed stiffly and exited the room without another word. The door closed behind her, leaving me alone at last.
I returned to the books and continued reading. To my surprise, a soft laugh escaped me. The rules were ridiculous—almost laughably so. They were unnecessary, excessive, and strangely specific, as if written in haste rather than reason.
They didn't sound thoughtful or wise.
They sounded… impulsive.
The kind of rules made by people afraid of losing control.
I kept reading, amusement slowly giving way to something sharper. Because beneath the absurdity, I could feel it—the intention behind every rule wasn't guidance.
It was fear.