Warm steam wrapped around the bathing house like a living thing. Water flowed continuously through carved stone channels into the great central spring, its surface glowing gold beneath the lanternlight. Marble columns framed the chamber, softened by climbing ivy and gauzy curtains that stirred whenever a breeze slipped through the high windows. Even in fall, the room remained warm enough to lull the body into sleep.
Shani waded through the hot water, using her hands to pull herself along the bottom. Jamila watched for a moment, a smile resting softly on her lips before leaning her head back and letting the steam envelope her.
Her brief moment of peace shattered at the sound of a squeal and water splashing across her face.
Jamila pulled her damp hair apart like curtains and looked over just in time to see Nimue lecturing the young princess. Shani apologized, though moments later she was already splashing again.
“Shani,” Jamila called, her tone stern but soft.
Shani froze and looked toward her, a sheepish smile crossing her face.
“No more jumping?” she asked.
“No more. Now come over here and let’s finish cleaning you up.”
Her smile returned instantly, and without hesitation, Shani climbed into her mother’s lap to be scrubbed down.
After their dip in the hot springs, Shani bolted from the room with renewed energy.
Her thick curls had been pulled into a high ponytail, loose tendrils cascading around her neck and forehead. A thin band of gold rested against her hair. The outfit Nimue had chosen was a soft ivory tunic trimmed in gold, simple enough for lessons, yet still far too refined to forget she was meant to be seen. A narrow sash of deep violet silk wrapped around her waist, rich and unmistakable against the pale fabric.
The young princess darted through the ivory halls, her sandals clicking rapidly against the marble floors. Maids and servants stepped quickly out of her path as she rushed toward the garden.
She was nearly there when something caught her attention.
“Hard to believe Her Majesty allows that thing out of the room…” A woman’s voice. Close, but unseen.
“I know… but at least she looks acceptable and not like those prick-ears.” Another voice, older. Sharper. Laughter followed.
Shani slowed.
Prick-ears?
The word sat strangely in her mind, unfamiliar and sharp in a way she couldn’t quite place. The laughter that followed made something in her chest tighten, though she didn’t understand why.
She took another step and walked straight into something solid. She bounced backward and landed hard against the marble floor with a groan.
“Are you alright, Princess?” a calm masculine voice asked.
She looked up. Lavender eyes met hers. Cool. Steady. Familiar.
Her face lit up instantly.
“I’m okay, Uncle Jaziel!” she beamed.
For just a moment, his hand hesitated in the air before he steadied himself and offered it to her. Shani took it without question, and he pulled her easily to her feet, brushing dust from her shoulders with practiced care.
“You should pay attention to where you’re going, Princess,” he said, his tone firm, his eyes narrowing slightly in quiet reprimand.
Shani nodded quickly.
“Yes, sir!” She gave him a quick, playful salute.
A faint smile tugged at his lips. “Good. Off to your lessons, and try to learn something.”
“Yes, Uncle!”
She darted away again without waiting, her energy returning in full force. Jaziel watched her go, his expression settling into something quieter.
“And she runs again…” he muttered.
A pause.
“She doesn’t listen.”
He turned away, already making a silent note.
The garden greeted Shani with warmth.
Despite the cool air brushing against her skin, the sun shone brightly overhead. White cobblestone paths stretched outward from the palace doors, leading toward a grand fountain at the center of the garden. Mature trees lined the edges of the grounds, their thick branches stretching high above the towering stone walls surrounding the space.
Shani reached out, pressing her hand against the wall.
Cool.
Smooth.
Unclimbable.
“Ah… you are here, Princess.”
She spun around instantly, snapping to attention.
A large man stood before her, bearing countless scars and a thick, imposing beard. He wore a pristine military uniform, polished and precise. His presence alone made Shani feel small.
But if enduring him meant being outside, it was worth it.
Besides, her uncle had chosen him personally. That had to mean something.
They began as they always did. Fifteen laps around the garden. Shani completed them without slowing, her breathing steady and her steps light. Then came the rest. Army crawls. Cartwheels. Handstands. More than yesterday. More than the day before.
Still, Shani pushed through it all with eager determination, her movements quick, precise, almost effortless. By the time they finished, she had barely begun to sweat. Her cheeks were lightly flushed, her purple eyes bright with excitement.
The man, however, looked unsettled. Frustrated.
“I suppose that will do…” he grumbled, scribbling something onto a small sheet of parchment.
Shani leaned slightly, trying to peek at it, but he remained well out of reach.
“Did I pass today?” she asked brightly.
He looked her over again. Too fast. Too strong. Too much. If this was what a mutt could do at seven, he did not want to imagine what she would become.
“…Yes,” he finally answered. “Barely.”
Once dismissed, Shani waved enthusiastically until he disappeared from view. Then she ran. Not toward the palace, but toward the far edge of the garden. She slowed only when she reached the corner where a tree stood near the sloped edge of the wall.
Her sandals slipped off and were discarded without thought. Then she climbed.
Her body moved before she could think. Hands found holds. Feet adjusted easily against the bark. The rough surface bit into her skin, but she never hesitated. It felt natural. Easy.
She pulled herself onto a thick branch and leaned back against the warm wood, her gaze drifting outward.
Beyond the wall, the town below looked tiny. People moved through the streets like ants.
Further still stood a second wall. Older. Taller. Beyond that lay the forest. Even from here, it dwarfed everything around it. The trees rose impossibly high, swallowing the horizon and making the great wall before them seem insignificant.
“Forest of death…” Shani whispered.
That was what they called it.
Her mother said no one entered without permission and returned alive. The trees swallowed them whole. Even soldiers refused to cross the outer wall, no matter how high the reward. But Jamila had never spoken of the forest with fear. Only longing.
Shani frowned slightly. It didn’t look like death. It looked alive.
She tilted her head, watching the wind move through the trees.
Her mother had told her stories about that forest. How the light shifted through the canopy. How the grass smelled after the rain. The warmth of the earth beneath bare feet.
Her mother had survived it. Her mother loved it.
And one day, she promised, she would take Shani there.
After training her body, Shani had to train her mind. Per Nimue’s orders.
The library was quiet and musky, its shelves stretching high toward the domed ceiling, lined with balconies and ladders. In the center of the room sat a young boy with pale strawberry blonde hair and slightly oversized glasses, completely absorbed in an impressively thick book for someone his age.
He sat surrounded by colorful pillows, utterly unaware of the world around him.
A mischievous smile spread across Shani’s face.
On her toes, doing her best to blend into the shadows between the shelves, she crept closer. Holding her breath, she knelt behind him.
“Whatcha reading?”
Her voice was low, but it was enough.
The boy yelped and scrambled backward, purple eyes wide as tears threatened the corners. He blinked up at her, taking in the much taller girl as his fear quickly melted into frustration.
“Shani!” he hissed.
“You’re such a scaredy cat,” she teased.
“I wasn’t scared,” he muttered, pushing his glasses higher up his nose.
Shani leaned down, eyeing the book in his hands.
History of the Gods.
She gently tugged the heavy book from his grasp, turning it slightly in her hands.
It was an ancient text, one Jamila had told stories from countless times before. But the words themselves were still far too difficult for Shani to follow.
She pouted slightly before handing it back.
“That looks tough, Caelis…”
Caelis carefully dusted off the book. “It’s not too hard… once you learn the words, it almost reads like a fairytale.”
His eyes lit up as he settled back into the pillows, already finding his place again.
Shani shrugged and grabbed a book from a nearby pile before dropping down beside him, their shoulders brushing. Though they were close in age, she stood nearly a full head taller than him.
She opened the book for the day’s lesson and let out a long sigh. Caelis glanced at her from the corner of his eye.
“That looks tough, Shani,” he said, mirroring her earlier teasing.
She smiled and leaned lightly against his shoulder before turning her attention back to the book.
She had to prepare for etiquette before Nimue arrived.
And today…
She was going to be perfect.