The Untold

Chapter 1: Full Moon

"So... you've always been here?" Amira whispered, her voice shaky, barely audible over the silence.

The voice, soft yet unmistakable, echoed back to her, a presence only she could hear.

"Yes. I've been here all along."

Her fingers trembled as she wiped away dried tears. The conversation she'd overheard between her parents had left a bitter weight in her chest.

"That feeling... all this time... it was you?" she asked, her heart heavy with the memories of the past few years.

"I couldn't stand seeing you in such pain, Amira. I want to protect you. I've always wanted to protect you."

Amira hesitated, her mind flashing to her mother's warnings. "But... mummy always said—"

"It doesn't matter what your mother said," the voice interrupted, gentle but firm. "She said she loves her family, too. But was that ever true, from what you've just heard?"

The little girl blinked, the words sinking in. Everything felt fractured, the once-perfect image of her family unraveling before her.

What had just happened back at the palace—it changed everything. Her fairytale life as a 15-year-old princess was crumbling.

There was no love here, only the pretense of it. Everything had been a lie.

*Flashback*

"I never wanted this marriage! It was my father who sold me off to you!"
Amira pressed herself against the cold stone wall, peering through the crack of the door. Her mother's voice, usually so composed, cracked with raw frustration.

"Emily, don't say it like that," her father's voice was softer but laced with weariness. "You know I didn't have a choice either. We've built a life together. For her."

"For her?" Amira's mother snapped, her voice dripping with disdain. "You think this life is for her? For us?" She stepped forward, her hands trembling in fury. "I've been trapped in this gilded cage for years. Do you know what it's like to pretend every day? To smile while I die inside?"

Amira's breath hitched. She couldn't move, couldn't tear her eyes away from the fractured scene unfolding before her.

"We have responsibilities, Emily," her father said, his voice rough with an edge of desperation now. "You knew this wasn't about love. It was about duty, honor—"

"Duty?" Emily's laugh was cold, hollow. "Honor? Don't speak to me about honor. You built this life for yourself, to climb your father's ladder. And now look at us—look at her!" Her voice cracked with an emotion Amira couldn't understand. "She deserves better than this farce."

The words felt like a slap, even though they weren't meant for Amira. She shrank further into the shadows, trying to make herself invisible.

"And what do you suggest, Emily?" her father's voice grew colder. "That we walk away? That we tear this family apart for the sake of your—what? Your forgotten long-buried love?"

The words stung Amira in a way she didn't fully understand. But before her mother could respond, their eyes fell on her.

Amira stood frozen in the doorway, her small hands gripping the frame as if it could anchor her to the moment. Her father's face paled; her mother's expression crumbled, losing all its anger in an instant.

"Amira..." her mother whispered, but Amira couldn't hold it in any longer.

Tears welled up, spilling down her cheeks before she could stop them. She let out a choked sob and bolted, her feet barely touching the floor as she tore away from the door, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Amira! Wait!" her father's voice chased after her, followed by her mother's softer, more pleading call, "Please, sweetheart, come back..."

But she didn't stop. She couldn't.

Her vision blurred as she fled through the grand hallways, the weight of their words pressing harder with every step.

She burst through the doors into the palace gardens, the cool air hitting her tear-streaked face.

She ran deeper and deeper into the greenery, past the manicured roses and pristine fountains, past all the familiar corners where she used to play.

Her sobs echoed softly in the open air, but she didn't slow down, not even when her breath came in ragged gasps.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Amira stumbled into a hidden corner of the garden she had never seen before.

The thick ivy draped over an old stone archway, obscuring a small, forgotten pathway.

She pushed through the vines, her tears quieting as she entered the secret space, secluded and untouched by the chaos of the world she'd just fled.

It was quiet here. Amira collapsed onto a stone bench, pulling her knees to her chest, the sobs returning in waves.

For the first time in her life, she felt truly alone.

But the stillness of the garden brought a strange sense of peace, a fragile sanctuary hidden from the weight of the palace and her parents' broken words.

And then, quietly, as she wiped her eyes, a voice stirred.

"You're safe here, Amira," it whispered gently. "They can't hurt you here."

She didn't move.

"They don't understand you like I do, Amira," it murmured. "But I'll always be here."

Before she could respond, the distant sound of her parents calling her name pierced the quiet. She stiffened, her body tensing.
"Amira! Amira, where are you?" Their voices were frantic, echoing through the garden.

...

Amira sat cross-legged on her bed, her eyes drifting to the closed door where her parents had just left.

They had done their usual routine—checking in on her, fussing over every little detail like she was still their little princess.

Her father had kissed her forehead, her mother had stroked her hair, promising to return with warm milk to help her sleep.

"We'll be back in a bit, darling. You're our treasure," her mother had said, smiling warmly as if everything in the world was perfect. Like that previous conversation never occurred.

Amira had smiled back, but as soon as the door closed, her expression dropped. The weight of their constant love and attention, once something she'd cherished, now felt suffocating.

*end of flashback*

"They love you in their way," the voice whispered beside her, breaking the silence. It was always soft, always there, just out of reach but ever-present.

"I just, don't know how to feel anymore..."

"Amira?" The girl had missed the click with which her bedroom door opened to reveal her mother. "Who are you talking to?"

"Uh- just myself."

"Amira, listen carefully to me," her mother said, her voice low. "You're not to wander the gardens alone at night. Especially not near the old trees."

Amira had blinked up at her, confused. "Why not?"

Her mother's expression had darkened.

"I've told you about this before... there are things in this world that even we can't protect you from. Spirits. Jinns that linger, waiting for those who stray too far. The more you entertain them, the stronger they become."

Amira had frowned, not fully understanding. "Ugh you're always complaining about this, the gardens are safe," she wailed, "we've always been there."

"Yes," her mother had said, her hand resting gently on Amira's shoulder. "During the day. But at night, it's different. It's dangerous. If you sit beneath that tree when the full moon is high, you might attract attention you don't want."

Her mother's grip had tightened slightly, her tone grave. "Promise me, Amira. You'll never go there alone at night. Please."

"I promise mummy."