Navi hesitated at the carriage door, her grip tightening around the handle of her suitcase as the thought hit her—sudden and sharp.
Run.
Her eyes lifted instinctively, locking onto him.
He was watching.
Not stopping her. Not urging her forward. Just standing there, calm and unmoved, as if her decision meant nothing at all. As if the outcome had already been decided long before she realized she had a choice to make.
Her stomach dropped.
This isn't a choice.
She stepped inside.
⸻
The door shut behind her, sealing the moment before she could change it. The carriage lurched forward, slow at first, then settling into a steady rhythm as the wheels rolled over uneven ground.
With every turn, she felt herself being pulled further away—from the village, from the forest, from anything that still made sense.
Navi sat still, her posture controlled, but her thoughts refused to settle.
Think.
Panicking won't help.
She forced her breathing to slow, tightening her fingers around the suitcase as if it were the only thing anchoring her to reality. This wasn't a set. Not a photoshoot. Not something she could walk away from once it ended.
This is real.
And something is very wrong.
Carefully, she reached for the curtain and lifted it just enough to look outside. Trees blurred past, followed by stretches of open land that felt endless and unfamiliar. There were no roads she recognized, no buildings, no signs of anything that belonged to her world.
Her chest tightened—but this time, she didn't let hope take over.
No.
That place is gone.
Whatever happened... I'm not going back the same way.
Her gaze steadied, shifting inward as her thoughts sharpened.
If I can't go back... then I need to survive here first.
⸻
The carriage came to a stop.
Too soon—or not soon enough.
The door opened, and a guard gestured for her to step out. Navi moved carefully, her heel touching the ground with a sharp, unfamiliar sound.
Click.
She took another step.
Click... click...
The sound echoed across the courtyard, cutting through the quiet.
Heads turned instantly.
Not to her face.
To the sound.
Her steps slowed for half a second—but she forced herself forward.
Don't react.
Don't show fear.
Even though it sat heavy in her chest, tightening with every step as eyes followed her, measuring, assessing.
⸻
They led her inside.
Long corridors stretched ahead, the polished wood floors amplifying each step she took.
Click... click... click...
The sound followed her relentlessly—too loud, too unnatural in a place that seemed to run on quiet observation.
People lined the sides of the hall. Maids and servants stood still, their whispers spreading in low, uneasy tones. Their eyes lingered longer than they should have—not curious, not welcoming.
Evaluating.
Like she was something they didn't understand.
Something they didn't trust.
Navi kept walking.
She didn't understand their words, but she didn't need to. The distance in their eyes, the way they leaned away ever so slightly—it told her everything.
She didn't belong here.
And they all knew it.
⸻
They brought her into a large room filled with people who were already waiting.
Watching.
The moment she stepped inside, the space shifted. Conversations stopped. Movement stilled. Every gaze turned toward her at once.
A guard approached, his eyes dropping immediately to her suitcase as he reached for it.
Navi pulled it back without thinking.
"No."
Her voice came out sharper than she intended, her pulse racing as she tightened her hold.
Mine.
The guard gestured again, more firmly this time.
Open it.
Navi swallowed, then crouched quickly, unzipping it herself before anyone else could touch it. Her movements were fast, controlled, deliberate.
Don't let them touch anything.
She pulled out her bag, opening it with slightly unsteady hands before taking out her passport.
"This—" she pointed at it, then at herself, her voice urgent and uneven. "Me... Canada... me..."
She held it out.
People leaned closer.
The image.
Her face.
Too exact. Too real.
Whispers broke out almost immediately, low and uncertain.
⸻
Movement behind her snapped her attention back.
A guard had already begun going through her suitcase.
"Hey—don't touch!"
Her voice cracked as she rushed forward, pulling it back toward her.
"Please... don't..."
Softer now.
But no one stopped him.
No one stepped in.
⸻
As she tried to close it again, something caught her eye.
The phrasebook.
The brochure.
Her breath hitched.
Hope.
Small—but sharp.
"Yes... yes..."
She grabbed them quickly, flipping through the pages with growing urgency. The guards watched her closely, their confusion deepening as she pulled out a pen and began writing.
Gasps spread through the room.
A step back.
Then another.
She didn't stop.
"Lost..."
"Me..."
"Canada..."
"Palace... photo..."
The words didn't connect the way she needed them to—but she kept trying, pointing, explaining, pushing the meaning forward even as it failed to land.
Then she opened the brochure and held it out.
Bright images.
Clear.
Alive.
The room fell silent.
Not curiosity.
Fear.
Because it looked real.
Too real.
⸻
He moved then.
Finally.
Slow. Deliberate.
He stepped forward and took the brochure from her hands, his fingers brushing over the unfamiliar surface as his eyes scanned it carefully. Some of the symbols felt almost recognizable—but others were completely foreign, wrong in a way that unsettled something deeper.
Then his gaze stopped.
A date.
2026.
It held there, unmoving.
Three hundred years ahead.
His grip tightened just slightly, enough to crease the paper.
He didn't react.
But something had shifted.
⸻
"Enough."
The word cut cleanly through the room, and silence fell instantly.
"Tomorrow," he continued, his voice calm, controlled. "We continue."
A brief pause.
Then—
"Keep her contained."
The air turned colder, sharper, as the meaning settled.
"No one speaks to her without permission."
No one questioned him.
No one hesitated.
⸻
The guards moved toward her.
Navi grabbed her suitcase quickly, pulling it close as one of them reached again.
"No."
Her voice was quieter this time—but firmer.
Mine.
They didn't argue, but they didn't retreat either. She clutched the phrasebook tightly to her chest, holding onto it like it might be the only thing that could still help her.
The only thing that made sense.
⸻
They led her away.
The door shut behind her.
⸻
"Leave."
The room emptied quickly, leaving only silence behind. One guard lingered for a moment before stepping back at the slightest motion of his hand.
Alone, he turned back to the brochure.
He looked at it again.
Slower this time.
Not for what it showed—
but for what it meant.
⸻
"She does not seem dangerous," a guard said carefully from the doorway.
He didn't look up.
"No," he replied quietly.
A pause.
Measured.
"That is precisely the problem."
The guard stilled.
"Watch her," he added. "Closely."
⸻
He should have stopped thinking about her.
But he didn't.
Because for the first time in years, something in his world refused to follow the rules he understood.
And that—
was not something he ignored.
⸻
The palace did not sleep that night.
And neither did he.
Because somewhere within its walls was something that should not exist.
⸻
Just before dawn, a messenger arrived—breathless, urgent. He dropped to his knees the moment he was allowed inside.
"A message from the Main Palace."
The seal remained unbroken.
Official.
Heavy.
Important.
Too important.
⸻
The letter was opened.
Read once.
Then again.
More slowly.
⸻
"Bring the foreign woman to the Main Palace."
⸻
Silence followed.
Not confusion.
Not surprise.
Something worse.
Recognition.
⸻
"They are moving quickly," one guard murmured.
"Too quickly," another replied under his breath.
Because this wasn't normal.
Strangers weren't summoned like this.
Not without reason.
⸻
Across the room, he said nothing.
But his gaze shifted.
Not to the letter—
but toward the direction she had been taken.
⸻
The moment the capital became involved—
this was no longer contained.
Not to this palace.
Not to him.
⸻
Inside her room, Navi sat still, her body quiet but her thoughts racing faster than before.
She felt it.
Even without understanding their words—
she felt it.
The shift.
The attention.
The danger.
She wasn't just lost anymore.
She was something else now.
Something they were watching.
Something they were deciding about.
⸻
Outside—
guards moved differently.
More alert.
More controlled.
Like something had changed.
Because it had.
⸻
And Navi—
sitting alone in a room that wasn't hers—
finally understood one thing clearly.
Whatever happens next—
is not going to be good.
⸻
Far across the palace—
the decision had already been made.
And this time—
it wouldn't stay contained.