In the quiet back garden, the palace arcades stretched along the greenery, casting their delicate shade across the faces of Amber and Kate, seated upon the ornate white chairs. The afternoon breeze played with the hems of their gowns, and the air was steeped in the fragrance of damask roses.
Amber was absorbed in folding a small sheet of paper with graceful script, while Kate watched the distant gathering, her eyes scanning the scene with cautious care.
The silence was interrupted by a breathless voice that quickly approached.
Aaron:
"Kate... I came. Oh, my god, I barely got out of there! My mentor was praising me in front of the nobles and almost showered me with praise... and even introduced me to one of the Barons!"
Kate spoke cheerfully
"And did you tell them that you are the teacher's dedicated disciple?""
Aaron laughed lightly
"They even told me that! What's important ... what's the matter Why did you want to meet me here"
Kate looked at Amber
"Amber wants to send a secret message to Eric. The date will be tomorrow, during the evening concert, under one of the balconies of the Eastern Palace."
Aaron looks towards Amber in amazement
"A letter?"! Are you still taking risks like this What if someone sees you Especially since the press will be present, and all eyes are on this palace."
Kate responds confidently, putting her hand on the table
"Don't worry. Everyone will be busy... barons, journalists, gentlemen... no one will pay attention to a hidden corner under the eastern balcony. I planned it."
Amber spoke quietly and shyly
"The letter is brief... just to tell him that I will be there, waiting for him."
Then she opened the paper and read what was written in her handwriting:
"Eric... under the East porch, tomorrow evening at nine after the end of the welcome.It won't take long , I just want to see you. - I love you.
Amber."
Kate picked up the letter and handed it to Aaron.
"Take it—leave it in his room before he returns. Slip it into one of the books on his desk… no one else will ever see it."
Aaron accepted it with a weary sigh.
"If anyone were to discover this… We'll get in trouble. But—I trust you both."
With light steps, he departed through the stone passageway, overgrown with wild blossoms, heading toward the far side of the palace where the staff quarters lay.
Yet… behind one of the flowering shrubs, it wasn't only the leaves that had been listening. There stood Rosaline, silent, a cold smile curving upon her lips.
Rosaline murmured to herself in a low, measured voice:
"Beneath the eastern balcony, then? … Very well, Amber."
No one noticed her presence; she slipped away as swiftly as she had come.
Moments later, Aaron returned, lifting his thumb with a triumphant smile.
"It's done. I placed the letter in his notebook on the desk. No one else will ever find it."
Kate exhaled in relief.
"Good… the plan is unfolding just as it should."
The day passed in quiet ease. The afternoon gathering dispersed, and the guests departed one by one—
"Except for those for whom sleeping quarters had been prepared in the western wing of the palace, reserved for distinguished guests."
In the evening, within a chamber adorned in blue silk and lit by white candles, Margaret sat upon her velvet chair beside her husband's desk, weariness softening her posture. Her hand moved absentmindedly across the table—only to alight upon a neatly folded slip of paper.
As she unfolded it, her eyes traced the words:
"Eric… beneath the eastern balcony… tomorrow night at nine… I love you.
Amber"
A muffled gasp escaped her lips; her face drained of color, her heart stumbling in its rhythm.
Quietly, Claudion entered, moving toward her.
Claudion, with concern:
"Margaret? What is it? You look pale."
In a fluster, Margaret tried to conceal the paper.
"No… nothing, my dear. I only felt a touch of fatigue. I'll ask the maid to prepare a warm bath for you. Tomorrow's banquet will be long, and you must rest."
Claudion stepped closer, offering her a gentle smile.
"You think more of me than I do of myself… Very well, I'll bathe. But don't forget—you must sleep early, too."
He withdrew, unaware that his wife's heart was knotted with worry, her mind spinning in an endless storm of questions.
In the palace steeped in the hush of night, all had withdrawn to their chambers after a day overflowing with splendor. The echoes of laughter and music had faded, leaving only the whisper of the wind against the windows and the flickering dance of candlelight across the vast, silent halls.
In the master bedchamber…
Margaret sat upon her high-backed chair, her gaze fixed upon a small candle before her. Its wavering flame bent and straightened as though weaving a tale only she could hear.
Claudion, preparing to lie down:
"Margaret… won't you come to bed? Tomorrow will be a long day—you wear yourself out needlessly."
Margaret quietly, without meeting his eyes:
"Don't worry. Go on and sleep. I'll rest soon enough. You're the one who will need strength tomorrow—His Majesty's advisor will be present, and you must be prepared. Ah, I nearly forgot to mention—I met the baroness, and she seemed most interested in Amber. It appears she wishes to arrange a marriage with her only son, Lucien. What do you think?"
Claudion:
"Mm… Lucien is indeed a fine young man. But let us set such matters aside for now—they can wait. Our focus should be tomorrow's banquet."
Margaret:
"As you wish."
Claudion:
"Good then… but don't stay up too late. Sleep well goodnight."
Margaret whispering:
"And you as well…"
Claudion slipped beneath the covers, his eyes closing. Within the hour, his breath grew slow and deep with slumber.
Then, with ghostly quiet, Margaret rose from her chair. She took up a small lantern, its flame glowing faintly, and stepped into the corridor. Her movements were soundless, her figure gliding like a shadow through the dimly lit passageways of the palace.
Her eyes carried the weight of unspoken dread. She reached Amber's door, and with careful fingers, eased it open.
Margaret whispered, her gaze falling upon the sleeping girl:
"How could this have happened…? How did I not see? I raised you with my heart as much as with my hands… Since you were small, I have seen you as the daughter I never bore… and yet you would hide something like this from me?"
She drew the door closed softly, the latch barely stirring, and with the lantern held before her, she walked on, her features tightening with unease.
Her thoughts swirled, pressing against the silence of the corridors:
"No one must know… If Claudion were to discover this, his anger would be fierce. He would never forgive her—nor me. But how did the letter end up in my chamber? It was meant for Eric… Someone wanted it revealed. Someone wanted it to reach Claudion's eyes. Yet, by fortune—or fate—it fell into mine instead…"
She returned to her room and shut the door firmly behind her. Standing in the hush, she looked once more at the folded paper.
Then, with a steady breath, she extinguished the lantern's glow.
"Tomorrow… after the banquet… I will speak with her. Alone."
She lay her head upon the pillow, yet her eyes refused to close. Thoughts circled endlessly, and her worry grew heavier with every passing heartbeat. Sleep would not claim her that night.