Nicholas stood behind Dastan for a few more moments before he decided to excuse himself with urgency. He was headed straight to the queen's quarters, his actions filled with haste. Upon reaching the doors of the queen's chambers, he knocked firmly.
"Your Highness, I have news," he said in a quivery voice.
The guards opened the door for him, allowing him into the room. Fleur was tending to her hair as he arrived.
"Sir Nicholas? What brought you here?" she questioned.
Nicholas clenched his hands together and bowed slightly before speaking. "Your Highness, I have bad news."
Fleur tensed and nodded. "Speak up, I am all ears," she added.
"Your Highness, the prince… He is writing a letter to–" his chest filled up, and he couldn't bring himself to say it.
"Sir Nicholas, please tell me. Your delay will not be fruitful," she urged.
Nicholas was nervous; he didn't want to hurt her feelings, but he had to tell her about it as it was a serious matter.
"He is writing a letter to his brother, Prince Isa," he finally spoke quickly, peeking at Fleur to gauge her reaction. Her hand, which was in her hair, fell to her lap, and her eyes widened.
"What did you say?" she asked with a heavy voice.
"I just saw him do it. I am afraid, Your Highness. We need to stop him,Before he finds out the truth." he spoke urgently.
Tears rolled down Fleur's cheeks as she sat there, almost lifeless for a moment, letting out a heavy sigh. "He has to find out someday, but I don't want him to find out like this. He won't be able to accept the truth," she spoke, her voice barely above a whisper. Then, she jolted up and stepped forward.
"Don't let that letter leave the walls of this palace, and make sure every single soul in the palace has their lips shut about this matter, or else you know the consequences. Do I make myself clear?" she stiffly ordered, and Nicholas nodded in affirmation.
Back in Dastan's room, he was nearly done writing the letter. With a victorious expression, he set aside his pen and lifted the paper, starting to roll it into a scroll and tie a bow around it neatly. Though he didn't have any means of knowing where Isa was, he wasn't worried about that as he had his own way of delivering the letter. He left the room and headed to the stables to get his horse, but he met with Nicholas, who seemed to be looking for him.
"Your Highness, are you heading somewhere?" Nicholas inquired.
"Yes, I am sending a letter. Is there something you need to discuss?" Dastan replied.
"Why do you bother? I will send it out for you to save you the hassle," Nicholas suggested.
"No need, I can do this on my own," Dastan insisted, shifting his attention away from Nicholas. Nicholas felt defeated as Dastan was determined to send the letter out on his own.
"Please, Your Highness, you will get sick if you do it like that. You just woke up, and it's not good for your health," Nicholas insisted. After a lot of back and forth, Dastan gave up and handed over the letter to Nicholas before heading back into the palace.
"I hope Isa replies quickly. I want to go meet him," Dastan mumbled as he continued walking until he came across the grand circular stairs that led up to the imperial library. For some reason, he stopped and looked up curiously. Before he knew it, Dastan had started walking up the stairs into the library.
Pushing open the heavy door of the library, Dastan instantly noticed the scent of old papers accompanied by the cold inside. There was a distant hum in the background that he didn't notice at the time. Dim candles flickered on the side, casting warm light that contrasted with the skylight from the roof.
"They changed the setting," he muttered, looking around. His ears caught a soft voice humming, causing him to locate the source. The library was grand, making it hard for him to pinpoint the voice, but he could hear the mumbling and recognized the song being sung. It was the most famous tale of two lovers from Solyria, where one died in the war while his beloved stayed waiting for him and died of old age.
'Beneath the frost where crimson rivers flow,You sleep, my love, beneath the fallen snow.Your name still trembles upon my tongue,Like a prayer half-whispered, forever unsung.
It was known to be a very heart wrenching story and was still sung by widows of solyria till this day as they reminisce about their times with their decided war hero husbands.
The winds still carry the scent of your breath,A ghostly warmth defying death.I reach for shadows where you used to stand,But find only silence and frozen sand.
Oh, my heart, why do you still believe,That time could grant what fate won't reprieve?The spring will come, yet I remain,A widow bound to winter's chain.
When the final flake descends to lie,Upon my lashes, I'll close my eye.And in that sleep, no cold shall part,The snow, the sky, and my broken heart.
Finally, after searching for the soft voice that held a quiver in it, seemingly very pained, Dastan reached one of the farthest corners of the library. Books were taken off the shelves, opened, and stacked as if someone was going through them. The voice had grown clearer and clearer until he walked past a shelf and noticed a presence humming mindlessly as she looked around the shelves. He stood there, puzzled.
"How do you know that song?" he spoke without letting his presence be known to Noori. She slapped the book shut almost instantly turning her head towards him with wide-open eyes.
'How did I not notice him?' The thought filled her head, and his question remained unheard by her.
"I asked you something. How do you know that song?" Dastan repeated, his tone firmer this time. Noori, for a moment, was unsure of what he was asking, as she had been singing it randomly, unbeknownst to her. Now that he asked, she had to think about it for a while before remembering where she had heard it.
"Oh, that. I just heard it somewhere. Why?" She replied casually, as if it weren't a significant matter.
"You simply heard it and you know it that well? That doesn't sit well with me," he added suspiciously.
"What are you implying? That I have been living among the people of Solyria for a long time without them noticing it?" She retorted, her lips curled up as if she were putting words in his mouth.
"I didn't say that," he replied.
"Oh, I was hoping that you would," she said disappointedly, then turned around and continued, "I overheard it during the war. The prisoners of Solyria used to sing it before I killed them. It stuck with me ever since." She spoke casually and pulled a book out of the shelf.
Dastan's fists tightened hatefully, and he watched her with disgust. "You are heartless."
Noori flipped open the book casually, as if Dastan wasn't saying something harsh to her. "I have heard that one too many times. I think the people of Solyria lose their creativity when it comes to me," she remarked.
"You disgust me." He continued.
Noori took a deep breath before looking up at him. "Have you ever been to a war?" She asked with a blank expression. Dastan remained silent, staring blankly at her.
"By the looks of it, you never have," she added, stepping closer to Dastan. "So the opinion of a person that has never seen the scenes of war doesn't affect me," she said briefly and walked past him after hitting him with her shoulder.
"Those words won't change what you have done to the people of Solyria," he growled back.
"I have no regrets. The only regrets I have are not killing all of them," she replied, not turning around.
Dastan's patience thinned as he watched her glide from shelf to shelf, as if his words meant nothing. "If you hate it that much, why did you come here to marry me in the first place?"
Noori's fingers brushed the spine of a book, hesitating mid-motion. For a long moment, she said nothing. Then she turned, her gaze steady but distant. "What if I told you I didn't come here of my own will? Would you believe me?"
Dastan scoffed, his voice cutting through the quiet. "No. If that were true, you'd have been gone by now without a second thought."
Her lips twitched, somewhere between a smile and a sigh. "Maybe you're right," she said softly. Her eyes drifted to the light spilling across the floor, her tone lowering until it was barely more than a murmur. "But what if I told you that leaving isn't an option anymore? That somehow, without meaning to, you became... necessary."
Those words spoken by Noori were deeply profound, causing a momentary stiffness in Dastan as he gazed into her eyes. They held a calm and composed honesty, as if she were holding nothing back.