ANCILLARY

⁰² ✦ Run ✦

The palace was quiet, the heavy footsteps of guards echoing faintly down the vast corridors outside Princess Enica's chambers.

Though the guards were keeping their routine, Enica could sense a difference in their movements, a subtle slackening in their posture, a slight ease in their steps.

Without the King around, the pressure was off, and their vigilance softened, if only slightly.

She knew they wouldn't expect anything out of the ordinary tonight-exactly what she was counting on.

"Princess," came a familiar voice from the hallway. The rich, steady voice belonged to Elysia, the King's right hand and most trusted advisor. A Woman of wisdom and calm demeanor, Elysia had been part of the kingdom's legacy for as long as Enica could remember. Her presence was one of both comfort and constraint, the embodiment of duty in human form.

"We'll be locking your door now," Elysia continued, her voice measured but edged with the slightest hint of reluctance. She paused, as if waiting for a response, knowing the ritual was as unnecessary as it was unyielding.

Enica rose from her seat, smoothing the folds of her gown as she moved towards the door. She hesitated for a moment before speaking, drawing in a deep breath to steady her voice.

"I understand," she called out, her tone composed, almost indifferent. Yet her heart was a storm beneath the surface. "Thank you, Elysia."

A shadow passed under the gap of the door, and she imagined Elysia standing there, the weight of responsibility pressing on her shoulders like the crown that she would never wear. She's seen the princess grow up, watched her innocence fade with each year that the lock was turned behind her. But duty, she knew, was a heavier chain than sympathy.

There was the solid, familiar sound of the bolt sliding into place. It clunked dully, sealing her in for another night. Elysia lingered for a moment, her fingers brushing the cool metal of the lock, before turning away with a sigh that only the shadows heard. She walked down the hall, back straight, each step deliberate as if to convince herself she'd done the right thing-the only thing she could do.

Enica stood motionless, listening to her footsteps fade into the distance. Her eyes shifted to the moonlight spilling across the stone floor, turning it into a silver river.

This nightly ritual had started long ago, her father's insistence since she was young: whenever he was away, she was to be locked in her room each night for her "protection." She didn't even have the key, and though they had once told her it was because she might lose it, but Enica knows the real reason was that they didn't want her slipping away.

She waited, listening to the muffled sound of retreating footsteps until they faded down the corridor. Finally, she let out a quiet breath, moving silently back to her bed and sinking down on the edge.

From behind her pillows, she drew out a folded piece of paper that had been hidden for years since she stole it once when she was little from her Father's library room.

She spread it carefully on the bed, her fingers tracing over written letters she had read countless times before.

The letter was well-worn, its edges frayed from how many times she had unrolled and refolded it, her fingers gliding over every sentence that written in there.