Crown of Deception

Chapter Sixteen

Dalia stood before the mirror, her fingers smoothing out the fabric of her red skirt, the color vibrant against the simplicity of her white shirt. Her reflection stared back at her, a mix of resolution and weariness in her eyes. Today marked the final day in the village after two long months, and while a part of her longed to return home, another part felt the weight of the events that had unfolded here. The memory of her argument with the Crown Prince still hung in the air, casting a shadow over her thoughts. He had kept his distance since, and though she hadn't sought him out, his absence left an uncomfortable silence.

The mines were ready for their final inspection today, and Cesar, always thorough, was ensuring the last buildings in the village met his standards. She trusted his judgment, but there was a growing knot of anxiety in her stomach that had little to do with the village or the mines. It was something deeper, more personal.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door. She turned, already knowing who it was before she saw her. Alicia stood in the doorway, her posture rigid, though her expression seemed to strive for something softer.

"Dalia, we haven't talked in a while," Alicia began, her voice tinged with forced sincerity.

Dalia's gaze lingered on her for a moment, memories of their childhood flashing in her mind. But the person standing before her now was not the innocent girl her mother had once cared for, not the girl she had once trusted and laughed with. Somewhere along the way, that girl had been replaced by someone colder, crueler.

"We have nothing to talk about," Dalia said flatly, stepping forward with a calm, measured grace. "If you'll excuse me, I'm on my way out."

She moved past Alicia, intent on avoiding a conversation she had no desire for, but Alicia's hand shot out, gripping her arm firmly.

"Dalia! We need to talk," Alicia insisted, her grip tight as if she could hold onto the remnants of their bond by sheer force.

Dalia froze, feeling the weight of the contact. Slowly, she turned to face Alicia fully, her eyes scanning the woman in front of her. The warmth, the familiarity—they were gone. In their place was someone she no longer knew, someone she no longer wanted to know.

"What do you want, Alicia?" Dalia's voice was quiet but sharp, her patience already fraying. She shook her arm free of Alicia's grasp, the motion deliberate and final.

Alicia's expression wavered, a flicker of something that might have been regret passing through her eyes. "What you saw that day... it wasn't my intention for things to turn out that way," she said, her voice softer now, almost pleading. She reached out again, but this time Dalia stepped back, refusing the touch.

"What I saw that day made me see you for who you really are," Dalia said, her words cutting through the air between them. "You are no longer the sister I thought of you as. You've become a cruel woman, someone I'm merely related to by blood, nothing more. And there is nothing more to say."

The finality of her words hung heavily in the space between them. Alicia's eyes widened, but Dalia didn't wait for a response. She stepped past her, leaving Alicia standing in the doorway, her chest tight with the pain of what she had just done.

Each step away from Alicia felt like a weight pressing deeper into her heart. Dalia had grown up alongside her, and shared moments of joy, of trust—but those days were gone, and the woman Alicia had become was no longer someone she could afford to care for. Her mind echoed with unspoken words, 'This is for the best, Alicia. I'm sorry.'

Dalia walked down the long hallway, her steps quiet but steady as she approached the entrance of the house. The sunlight filtering through the open door illuminated Cesar, who stood outside, focused on a notebook in his hands. He was deep in thought, reviewing the final tasks before their departure. She stepped out, calling his name.