"I assume you must be tired from the long journey. The palace has been prepared for you—it will be yours for the duration of your stay," Azorius said, his tone warm and gracious. Noori hesitated, a flicker of confusion crossing her features, but the weight of the distant figure's gaze held her attention. She allowed herself a small, polite nod. "Yes, that is most kind of you."
"Please, lead the Princess to her chambers. We shall meet again at the ceremony tonight. Rest well," Azorius instructed, gesturing toward her. Noori's gaze lingered briefly on the enigmatic figure across the hall before she turned and followed the attendant, her posture composed yet alert.
Farris instinctively moved to follow her, but the king intercepted him with a sharp summons. "Duke! Come with me; there are matters we must discuss." Farris's attention snapped to Azorius, and he inclined his head. "Yes, Your Majesty."
Once outside the palace, a subtle unease settled over Noori. It wasn't merely the tension of entering enemy territory—it was something deeper, a gnawing instinct she couldn't shake.
"Bishop!" she called, and he moved quickly to her side.
"Yes, Your Highness," he replied, steady and attentive.
"Do you not feel it?" Noori asked quietly, her voice carrying a hint of caution. "Something is… off about our arrival here."
Bishop's eyes swept the surroundings. "Being in enemy territory is always unsettling, but aside from that, I see nothing unusual," he said, his tone calm, yet reassuring.
Noori frowned, her instincts whispering otherwise. "Perhaps it's only my imagination," she murmured, though the lingering sense of foreboding refused to fade.
The attendant guided her toward the waiting carriage. Bishop stayed behind, overseeing the troops' orderly movement toward the palace.
Seated across from the attendant, Noori studied her closely. The young Solyrian woman exemplified the classic beauty of her homeland: porcelain skin, hair shaded in cool silvers and ash, and eyes the icy blue of winter frost. Her gown was a rich velvet adorned with glimmering gems, carried with a quiet elegance that spoke of restraint and refinement.
Noori's gaze lingered, sharp and discerning. She could not deny the subtle sting of comparison, the attendant's delicate poise and innate grace seemed a world away from her own imposing presence. Unnerved, the attendant's hands fidgeted, and her breath caught as if she might faint under Noori's intense scrutiny.
Noori reached out but when her hand edged closer, the attendant flinched and slapped it away reflexively. Noori paused, eyes narrowing slightly at the unexpected resistance. The gesture revealed the depth of the girl's fear, and Noori's lips pressed into a thin line, momentarily masking her surprise.
"I—" Her throat went dry, and her eyes met Noori's. For a moment, she saw the blood-red glow flicker in those eyes, a sight enough to make her regret every choice she had ever made. Trembling violently, she threw herself to her knees, banging her head against the carriage floor and letting out a raw, terrified roar before Noori could even speak.
"Spare my life! I deserve to die, but I believe in your mercy!" she gasped, her voice cracking under panic. Noori's brow lifted slightly, and the hand holding the handkerchief eased away.
"Get up," Noori said, her tone sharp but calm.
"Please… don't kill me!" the attendant whimpered, her head still bowed, refusing to meet Noori's gaze. She stayed kneeling, frozen in fear, until Noori's patience seemed to waver.
"Get up, or I will truly kill you," Noori warned, her voice now edged with exhaustion. The attendant jolted upright, yet still crouched at Noori's legs, her gaze fixed on the ground.
Noori extended the handkerchief toward her. "Take this. I was giving it to you. You're sweating." she said before getting off.
The attendant hesitated, eyes wide with disbelief, before realizing that Noori had no intention of harming her—she was offering a simple act of courtesy. Her trembling hand took the handkerchief, the tension in her body slowly easing.
After a few quiet moments, the carriage door opened again. A Solyrian knight peeked inside, his expression a mixture of confusion and impatience. "Lady Wave? Aren't you getting off?" he prompted, his brows knitting together.
"Huh?! Yes, I am!" Wave exclaimed, nodding quickly. She pushed herself upright. The knight helped her out of the carriage, and her boots touched the cold, wet snow. She froze, her chest constricting as her eyes fell on Noori, who stood patiently in the falling snow. Did she not leave yet? Is she waiting here for me? her mind screamed, alarmed and awed.
"Our deepest apologies, Your Highness! The attendant is lacking. We apologize," the knight said with a forced bow, his teeth gritted, clearly uncomfortable in Noori's presence but maintaining the façade of respect.
Wave lowered her head, gripping the handkerchief like her life depended on it. "Please forgive me! You had to wait because of my incompetence!" she stammered, her voice barely audible.
"Lead the way," Noori replied tersely.
Wave's head shot up in surprise, and she nodded quickly, moving as though compelled. She guided Noori through the palace, her steps trembling under the weight of the princess's presence, until they reached the room prepared for her.
Wave opened the door to a chamber of heavy magnolia wood. The room was grand, befitting Noori's status, with exquisite furniture and soft, hand-woven carpets. Thick woolen tapestries adorned the walls, and flickering lights cast gentle illumination over the space.
"Welcome to your room. You will be staying here for a while," Wave said, her head bowed low.
"The bath is ready, and the bath maids await to assist you. You may rest until the ceremony. I will come to wake you," she continued, her tone laced with deference.
"Send them away," Noori said as she stepped inside.
"Pardon?" Wave's voice faltered, confusion evident.
"I said send them away. I do not require assistance while bathing," Noori clarified, her voice tight with irritation.
Wave's worry deepened, her eyes narrowing as she nodded. "Yes… I will do that," she said softly, beginning to leave.
"One more thing—make sure the water is cold," Noori instructed firmly.
"But—"
"Do not make me repeat myself. Just do as I say," Noori cut her off, pressing a hand to her forehead, which throbbed from the mental strain of managing so many interactions.
"Yes!" Wave replied quickly, hurrying from the room, feeling the full weight of Noori's authority pressing down on her shoulders.