The next day, Ezzor woke up with tear marks still visible on his face.
He sat up on his bed and noticed something strange.
The beds of his roommates had been pushed even farther away than before. Now all five boys had crowded their beds together in one corner, leaving him completely alone in the other. Broken furniture had been placed in front, like a wall, to keep him out.
Ignoring all that they had done, he trudged to the hall for breakfast, but he could feel it—everyone was colder, more distant than yesterday. Their silence, their pointed stares, made him feel uneasy, isolated in a way that was almost suffocating.
He muttered to himself, "I thought they were different, but they are just the same as the others. I just wanted to make new friends, but just don't care. They are your enemies."
When he returned to his room, it was empty.
That evening, after waking from a short nap, he noticed a basket placed beside him on the bed he had been sleeping on.
At first, he thought it wasn't meant for him. But then he saw a note sticking out:
"This is just for you."
He hesitated, unsure of what to do, but curiosity won. He reached out to the lid of the basket and opened it slowly, peeking inside. When he finally lifted the lid fully, he saw some fresh fruits and a small clay pot with a closed lid tucked into the corner.
He took the fruits out and set them on the bed, then carefully lifted the pot. It wobbled as though there was liquid inside.
When he opened it, he found a red liquid with faint tints of white swirling through it.
Just then, a piece of paper fluttered out from under the pot. He picked it up and read:
"Don't be afraid. It is just a drink."
Though it felt unreal that someone was showing kindness to him, he decided to trust whoever had sent it.
Slowly, he drank the liquid in one gulp. The taste was sweet and rich, unlike anything he had ever experienced. In the castle, all he had ever received was a piece of dry bread each day.
This was different. This felt… comforting.
Then he noticed another piece of paper in the basket. He unfolded it carefully. It read:
"Don't be sad.
I am here for you.
~Your sister"
Tears rolled down his face again. But this time, they weren't tears of pain—they were tears of relief, of gratitude, of joy.
In a quiet whisper, he said, "Thank you."
For the first time, Ezzor realized something profound: there was someone on his side.
From the day he had arrived in this kingdom, all he had ever felt was alienation. That feeling had been normal, almost expected. Yet deep down, he had hoped that people here would be different—that at least one person might care about him.
But until now, all he had encountered was rejection and distance.
Now, he finally understood. Hidden in the crowd, there was someone who cared for him. Someone who might never show their face, but who was quietly watching over him, protecting him in their own way.
From that day onward, he began receiving baskets like this every week.
He didn't know why or how, but he found himself becoming comfortable or longing to the converstion he had been having with the sister, It was comforting, warm, and strangely magical in a way he could not explain.
With every note, every basket, every simple gesture, she became more than just a stranger—she became his friend, his confidante, his sister in spirit. And for the first time since arriving at the kingdom, Ezzor felt hope.
Someone believed in him. Someone cared for him. And that knowledge made all the difference.
After months of exchanging these secret notes and gifts through the baskets, he discovered something remarkable. The person who had been reaching out to him was a girl from the same orphanage where he had grown up. Her name was "Liora."