Chapter 25
Illaria closely followed behind Amayra as the Western Palace came into view. What started as an initial small blob up close turned out to be nothing short of a marvel. Illaria let out a sigh. She was entering the heart of enemy territory and Marcus also was not beside her. As they reached the outer palace gates, she felt her heart rate quicken. The security of the West was actually tight. There were more cold looks than warm welcoming smiles. Prince Lyn was right — infiltration was tough. Even with her being crowned as the Goddess of War and Princess Amayra by her side, Illaria was not allowed freely. She was checked, questioned and looked at with cold eyes. At one checkpoint, Amayra had to throw a tantrum to get her in. Illaria was glad Amayra was beside her. Finally, they both made it through and Illaria saw the Western Palace up close.
The palace’s towers stretched tall as if they wanted to pierce the low-hanging clouds. The Royal Palace was in the shape of a square building with a huge golden tip dome crowning. The palace shimmered in the afternoon sun. Beautiful well maintained square shaped gardens lay decorated the Palace like green jewels. Fountains lined the courtyards, their water glimmering with a faint magical hue. As they entered the palace, Illaria noticed the intricate silver mosaics that covered the long corridors. Everything about the palace spoke of its wealth, pride, and system. Illaria followed Amayra through the massive doors guarded by soldiers in full armor.
“Impressive, isn’t it?” Amayra grinned, tossing her dark hair over one shoulder. “This is Nightsong’s heart — the Western Royal Kingdom. A little too grand for my taste, but home is home.”
Illaria smiled faintly. “It’s beautiful.”
Amayra said, winking. “You will get used to its beauty over time.”
They made their way down a long corridor for a long while. Finally, Amayra stopped before two carved doors. She pushed them open to reveal a lavish, spacious and beautiful room with a balcony.
“Welcome to my room!” Amayra announced.
Illaria’s eyes swept over the space — shelves stacked with books on magic and fiction, ancient weapons mounting the walls beside ribbons and dried flowers that added colour. A massive wardrobe bursting with questionable fashion choices, and sunlight spilling generously through wide glass windows. The room was a perfect reflection of Amayra herself — wild, bright, and utterly impossible to ignore.
“There is a connected room close-by. You will stay there. That’s what we are going to tell grandad because he for sure will insist on shifting you to the servant quarters otherwise. As for actual sleeping, the bed is big enough to fit us both, unless your lover boy has an objection.” Amayra chuckled. Illaria just smiled. Seemed like she was destined to journey with yappers.
In the evening Amayra conducted a knowledge transfer session. She explained the palace routines, the architecture and a bit about the Western culture and values. She had not yet finished when the doorman announced that The Emperor of the West himself was now entering. Amayra quickly got down on one knee. Illaria followed her lead. They had decided — Amayra would talk while Illaria would just stay silent.
A tall, stern man with a presence heavy enough to silence a whole mob entered the room. His golden crown gleamed, and his gaze swept across the room before landing on Illaria.
“Good evening grandad,” Amayra replied in a stern tone. The always laughing Amayra had turned cold and serious.
“Amayra, You know the rules. No one from outside is allowed into the palace. Who is this? And what is she doing here?” he asked, his tone cold and deliberate.
Amayra looked up and stepped forward without hesitation. “She’s my new bodyguard, Grandfather. You know her — she was crowned the Goddess of War. I was so honestly so impressed by her skills that I hired her for training — she’s skilled, loyal and someone who can be an actual friend to me.”
The Emperor’s eyes lingered on Illaria for a long moment. He finally replied, “Do as you wish, Amayra. But remember — trust should be earned, not given freely”. Illaria blinked, taken aback. Amayra had warned her beforehand — rules pertaining to security were ironclad in the West. The Emperor would not welcome her stay in the palace and even if he did she most likely would be sent to the servants quarters. Amayra had even rehearsed an elaborate excuse to keep her close, but to their surprise, things went far easier.
The air eased once he left. Amayra exhaled loudly. “Well, that went so well my gut says something is wrong.”
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Illaria crossed her arms. “You are right. We should proceed with caution.”
Amayra replied with her grin, “Yes, which is why we will only have fun these next five days. No investigation, no planning, just pure girls having fun. Six is my lucky number so on the sixth day we will finally launch our sneaky plans.” Illaria wanted to argue, but there was no arguing with Amayra.
The next morning, Amayra literally dragged Illaria out of her bed. “Come on, Day trip!” she declared.
“Day trip?” Illaria asked, her eyes still heavy with sleep. “I thought we were supposed to lay low.”
“Yes,” Amayra said cheerfully, “but I am the incantation of fun. Can’t stay in and bore us to death.”
They quickly got up and dressed in light casual clothes as they slipped out of the palace through a hidden passage behind the garden walls. It was narrow and dusty, but it led them directly beyond the palace gates without anyone noticing. “Secret way,” Amayra said proudly. “One of many. I’ll show you the others later.”
The markets of Nightsong were alive with color and chatter. Street performers juggled glowing orbs, spice-sellers called out their wares, and air was thick with the scent of roasted nuts and honeyed fruit. This felt similar to home. Illaria missed Starfell. They wandered through stalls, tried on embroidered cloaks and bought matching silver brooches. Amayra laughed constantly, a sound that turned heads wherever they went.
At one point, Amayra turned to her and said, “So, tell me about the South. I heard there was something about your wedding?”
Illaria sighed. “A proposal from Prince Lyn. It was never real — they just wanted to form an alliance with us and start a war with the West. I found the whole affair rather fishy. They wanted to go on a war just on speculation. The whole affair was so secret even Marcus and crown Prince Willem didn’t know about it. That turned out lucky for us though, as Marcus proposed infiltrating the West. My dad and the Northern Emperor had initially said no to this plan, but after the attack this seemed like the only viable option.”
“After the attack that happened, why did you not directly attack us?”
“We should know what we are up against. And all our decisions should stand the trial of time. A hurried decision is rarely a good decision.”
“And do you trust Marcus?”
“He seems genuine. He actually has proven more help than I would like to agree. Back in the South, he risked his life to save me from falling off a cliff, then he saved me from the Banshee here, and he did complete my exam paper too. If he wanted to sabotage, he had multiple chances.”
Amayra gasped, eyes wide with mock seriousness. “So, this man has saved you from death by fall, death by poison, and death by humiliation and you won’t even bat an eye at him? You are unbelievable.”
Illaria’s cheeks flushed. “Well. It was his choice. I never asked him to — except the exam of course.”
“Right,” Amayra said, smirking. “Keep telling yourself that, Illaria. But you know sooner or later, this war will end. I don’t know how but it will. And after that if he loves you — and you love him — why fight it? Why not actually elope with him and roam the continent?”
Illaria looked away, pretending to admire a merchant’s trinkets. “I don’t love him. I love my family who are waiting for me at home. Eloping would bring dishonor.”
“Or destiny, but you wouldn’t try would you?” Amayra replied softly.
By evening, they had returned to the palace carrying gifts — one of them for the Emperor. Illaria didn’t have high hopes but Amayra felt it was necessary to gain his trust, however possible. The next two days passed quickly. Amayra kept her word — she kept it fun. She showed Illaria every corner of the palace. The rose gardens that shimmered at dusk, the royal library with its spiral staircases, even the old guest quarters that hadn’t been used in decades. They spent nights playing chess or trying on ridiculous royal dresses until they were both laughing uncontrollably.
One afternoon Amayra looked at her with her mischievous eyes. “I know the last days have been fun but the real fun is yet to begin,” she said, opening a large wardrobe filled with gowns and jewelry. “See anything interesting?”
Illaria looked around. “Other than your questionable taste in revealing clothes, not really.”
Amayra grinned. “Look again. At the middle shelf’s back panel.”
Illaria touched the wood. It felt different. When she pushed it a bit hard, the panel loosened and fell inward, revealing a dark opening.
“A secret tunnel?”
Amayra’s eyes sparkled. “Yes. My nine years of work. I have built dozens across the whole Palace and even beyond now. From my room I can go anywhere, okay almost anywhere, grandad’s room is still off limits. Come on.”
“Are you sure you should be showing me this?” Illaria asked as she climbed in. “I am the Southern princess.”
“You’re also part of the Secret Five now — my boring, rigid, cold, but honourable and loyal friend. You get a sneak peek.”
They crawled in, their whispers echoing in the narrow tunnel. The passage soon widened into tunnels that twisted deep below and above the palace. “You’ll get used to it,” Amayra explained. Illaria suddenly noticed different coloured markings beside each tunnel.
Amayra explained, “Red paths go upward, green goes down, yellow left, blue right. Often inside these tunnels you will not be able to tell where you are going – left, right, up or down. These signs will guide you. Of course, to get from Point A to Point B, you need to memorize the entire palace map and a basic sense of direction.”
They explored the various tunnels. Hours later, they emerged into one of the inner courtyards, the moonlight spilling through flowering vines. Illaria exhaled, her earlier restraint melting into a smile. “You are amazing Amayra.”
Amayra laughed softly. “Someone has to keep things interesting. But hey — you asked me why I showed you this. To be honest, behind all the laughter and all the fun you know there is also fear. You are the Southern Princess after all. You will go back one day and of course I really hope you return home safely.”
Illaria remained silent. She hadn’t seen Amarya like this.
“But in case things go wrong, I may not be able to save you. You can use these tunnels to escape. Don’t hesitate. Just run. Survive. Can't do shit anyways if you are dead.”
The night ended with both of them sitting beneath the lantern-lit garden trees. It had been so fun and alive, with Marcus, with Amayra, even with Rigor and Amarin, the thought of it ending actually made her sad.