I closed the heavy double doors behind me, and the muffled chatter of the tavern downstairs dampened significantly. I was taken aback for a moment. These doors might be heavy, but I doubt they would be enough to drown out the noise that much.
I could still hear the customers below, the birds outside, and even the guy yelling out his apple prices. But for the first time in my life… despite how close they were, they sounded so… distant.
Is this… sound isolation magic?
“You noticed it immediately, huh?” a voice echoed inside the room.
I slowly turned my attention forward.
Sitting by the window was Her Highness Munith. Or, as the cover story had put it, "Monica."
She wore a bright yellow, semi-sheer cloak over a simple, white linen shirt. Her iconic silver hair was gone, replaced by a shade of platinum blonde—perhaps dyed—and tied loosely into a lush ponytail with a plain yellow ribbon. On the surface, she looked like a wealthy merchant’s daughter or the child of a minor baron. She hid her royal heritage well.
She sat on a sturdy, dark-wood chair, leaning over the table to rest her chin on her palm. Her eyes were sharp and amused, a small smile plastered on her lips.
“Ah, Feyt! It’s good to see you!” she said, her voice instantly snapping into her usual high-pitched, bubbly tone. “I’m glad you finally came! The journey was pleasant, I assume?”
I steadied myself, keeping my face calm and my grip on the bag firm.
The answers I was looking for could possibly be sitting right in front of me. I couldn’t afford to be nervous now.
The ambush she had laid out in those coded pages was a trap, yes, but it was also genuine intel.
The message told me that she knew what I was looking for. But that also meant that she had what I was looking for.
I wasn’t going to leave this meeting empty handed.
In every past encounter, she had been the one to string me along, sometimes literally, like dragging me by the wrist into her royal carriage. But if I wanted the truth about my Talent, I couldn’t afford to let her take charge this time. If victory had to be achieved, I had to force her to play on my terms.
“The carriage was very comfortable, Miss Monica,” I said with a bright smile. I made my way to a chair opposite of hers and sat down.
I placed the bag of novels on the side of the table with a soft thud. After pulling out each book and laying them on top of one another on the table, I settled into the chair.
Munith’s eyes tracked me unpacking her books the whole time. Her unwavering smile sent a chill down my spine, but I kept my hands steady under the table.
“Did you enjoy the third volume, Sir Feyt?” she asked. “I wrote it with great care, you know?”
Enjoy is a strong word, considering most of the third volume was… quite a bit rushed. Honestly, it was more of a PSA against eloping than anything. I had a strong feeling the actual plot had become a secondary priority the moment she decided to bury a coded message in it.
Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.
She wanted me to read that hidden text, and she wanted it done fast. Her sloppy pacing betrayed her, she was impatient for this meeting to happen.
I realized then that there was something she desperately wanted from me. I might not know what it was yet, but I was going to make sure I use it to my advantage.
“The novels are well-written, Miss Monica. But… I think we both know we’re not here to discuss the plot.”
“We aren’t?” Munith said, feigning confusion. She straightened herself before leaning back on her chair, her smile remained. “What else would we be talking about?”
You want me to throw the first punch, huh?
An ambush indeed.
But, I’ll take the bait.
“Not too long ago… I came across an old Aetherian Symbols report.”
Munith’s eyes narrowed and her smile widened. She kept quiet as I continued.
“The report stated that the individual involved in the investigation… only possessed two Talent Symbols,” I said, leaning forward slightly and placing my hands flat on the dark-wood table.
“Oh, really?” Munith murmured. Her tone remained entirely unbothered, but her gaze locked onto mine like a predator eyeing its prey.
“That person… also originated from outside the borders of Setus. And I have a strong suspicion that this person is of high status,” I continued, refusing to let her look away. “And with the report dating back roughly twenty years ago…”
I let the words hang in the dampened air for one tense, final second.
“That report… is talking about you, isn’t it?”
The moment my question landed, it felt as if the whole world outside this room stalled. The sound of the customers below vanished. The birds stopped chirping. And the market grew calm.
I kept my gaze locked onto hers, bracing for a sudden flare of magic, an immediate denial, or a lethal threat.
Instead, the corner of Munith’s mouth twitched.
Then, she chuckled.
It wasn't the high-pitched, bubbly giggle of Munith, nor was it the type of chuckle she would use for her undercover role. It was a low, genuinely amused sound that rumbled softly in her throat.
“An old report of mine that leaked to Setus, dated two decades ago…” she murmured. Her tone was sharp and amused.
She scoffed as she shook her head, her sharp eyes scanning my face. “My, my. I must admit, Feyt… you’ve exceeded my expectations. I knew you were looking for answers, but to dig up a record that was buried about me? I truly wonder how you even got your hands on that old piece of paper.”
Without waiting for an answer, she pushed her chair back. The dark wood scraped lightly against the floorboards as she stood up.
She walked over to the small window, turning her back to me. The semi-sheer yellow cloak she wore caught the pale sunlight passing through the glass, outlining her dyed platinum-blonde ponytail.
She stared out at the lower district, her fingers lightly resting on the wooden sill.
“For twenty-four years,” she began softly, her voice abandoning that sharp tone, and embodied a sudden sense of vast emptiness. “For twenty-four long, agonizing years… I have lived in this world completely alone. Surrounded by millions of people who adore me, respect me, and favor me. And yet, I always felt utterly… alone.”
She let out a silent sigh as her eyes continued to trace the lower streets.
“Ever since I opened my eyes, I knew how this world is supposed to work. How things should flow together, and how things should be done. But, everywhere I look… all I could see is people happily living inside a broken machine.”
She turned her head slightly, looking back at me over her shoulder. The playful mask was entirely gone. Her lips were straight, her eyes narrowed. She looked solemn as she locked her gaze with mine.
“It’s like watching a flock of birds trying to fly with only one wing, or fish thrashing on dry land, completely convinced that gasping for air is just what life is supposed to be. They don't even know that they're suffocating.” She let out a humorless scoff. “Funny, isn’t it?”
I didn’t offer any reaction. I merely tried my best to understand what her point was.
“For twenty-four years, I’ve been searching for a way to break that loneliness. The isolation that comes from understanding what others cannot,” she continued, turning around fully to face me. “And now… for the first time in my life… I feel as if I am no longer alone.”
She took a slow, deliberate step back toward the table, her presence completely filling the small room. She raised a slender hand, pointing a single finger directly at my chest.
She opened her mouth, but the words that spilled past her lips weren't common tongue.
“You… who could hear what others cannot. Do you feel the same way?”
