Chapter 4

Miu’s POV

The door closed behind us with a dull thud.

Only then did my mother turn to me.

“Are you involved with Lady Lena?”

The question was calm. Too calm.

I froze. I already knew where this was going. “What if we are, Mother?”

She didn’t miss a beat. “You can’t be.”

She stepped closer, placing herself directly in front of me, her posture rigid. “You must not grow any closer to that young lady. Especially not… intimately.”

My jaw tightened. “Why?”

“Because you must never forget who you are.”

Her voice kept going, but the words blurred. I’d heard this lesson too many times—served with tea and silence, repeated until it carved itself into my bones.

Then she said it.

“A woman.”

My eyes snapped back to hers.

They didn’t waver.

“Don’t forget that, Miu.”

The name settled over me like a weight. Old. Heavy. Unwanted.

The truth had followed me for as long as I could remember. Ever since I’d noticed something was wrong—wrong in the way my body was inspected, corrected, concealed. Wrong in the way the boys I trained with were allowed to exist freely, while I was taught restraint.

I was ten the first time she said it out loud.

“You’re a woman.”

My mother’s hands closed around my shoulders, firm—too firm for something meant to be gentle. As if she were afraid I might slip away from the truth if she loosened her grip.

“And no one can ever know that.”

I didn’t fully understand what she was asking of me back then. Only that it was important. Only that the air felt heavier after she said it.

I nodded anyway.

She crouched down in front of me, lowering herself until we were eye to eye. Her gaze searched my face, memorizing it—mourning it.

“Your true name is Miu,” she said quietly. “But from this moment on, that name must never be spoken.”

The name felt foreign in my chest. Miu.

“To the world, you are Prince Matthew,” she continued. “You will live as him. Breathe as him. Become him.”

Her voice stayed steady. Her eyes did not.

There was something in them then—something sharp and aching—that I wouldn’t have the language for until much later.

“You will rule this land one day,” she said, softer now. “But everything will be taken from you if the truth is known before then.”

I wanted to ask what everything meant.

I wanted to ask why it felt like I was being buried while still breathing.

I searched her face, trying to understand. Why must I hide? Why must I pretend? The questions felt too heavy for a child’s chest, pressing against my ribs until it hurt to breathe.

“Your father would never forgive us,” she added, her voice quiet, almost a whisper meant only for me. “Do you understand?”

Her hands slid from my shoulders to cup my cheeks, warm and gentle, brushing away the fear she herself had planted.

“…Yes, Mother,” I whispered.

It was the same answer I gave every time. The same answer I would give for years to come—the answer I would repeat as I was molded into the prince the kingdom expected me to be. Stronger. Sharper. Silent. Careful. Perfect in every way but truth.

Until the day I could finally step into the crown.

—–

Lenas’s POV

The ride back to the mansion was silent, the kind of silence that presses against your ears. I kept my eyes on the passing trees, feeling the tension coil tighter with every minute passing by.

As soon as we arrived, my father went straight to his study without a word. His steps were purposeful, deliberate—the kind that warned anyone not to follow. My mother lingered for a moment at the threshold, her gaze flicking toward me.

“What happened, Lena?” she asked softly.

I couldn’t answer. Not yet. I only shook my head, feeling the weight of unanswered questions settle in my chest.

Without another word, my mother followed him into the study. My curiosity flared, sharp and insistent. I knew I shouldn’t, but I couldn’t stop myself.

I crept forward, careful to keep my steps quiet. I wasn’t the sort to blindly follow the rules of a lady. I had never been content to sit quietly and watch the world pass by.

I loved books, yes—but not just to read them. I loved learning how things worked, how people thought, how battles were fought. I loved wielding a weapon in secret, practicing until I could move as swiftly as the wind. I loved adventure. And, if I was honest, I loved sharing it with him—the prince—despite all the times I scolded him for being reckless.

There was a part of me that had always wanted to see the world through his eyes, to run where no one told us to stop, to explore what no map dared mark.

Pressing myself closer to the doorway, I peeked inside the study. The shadows were thick, and voices were muffled. I couldn’t hear everything, but I could see the tension in their posture, the kind of tension that made me wish I wasn’t standing there, yet couldn’t make myself leave.

I hated being left in the dark.

And so I stayed, silent, watching, listening, waiting for a clue—anything that could tell me what had shaken this day so thoroughly.

Father’s frustration was sharp, almost tangible, as he informed Mother.

“The king… he’s accusing me of treason.”

Mother gasped. But it wasn’t shock. Not really. Both of them knew the truth: the king was a madman.

My hand shot up to my mouth, muffling the gasp that threatened to escape. I needed to hear the full story first.

“Why?” Mother asked, her voice steady, but her eyes sharp.

Father’s jaw tightened. “He found out… about the coup I led to help the cities on the border during the plague crisis.”

I froze. My mind flicked back to the news I’d seen then. I had known about the plague—a disease spreading along the western border, creeping ever closer to the central cities. The king’s response had been selective at best, cruel at worst. He sent help only to certain families, mostly nobles loyal to him, rewarding obedience and preserving his lavish life. Those who had opposed him, even quietly, were left to suffer.

And yet… someone had gone around helping them. Someone had quietly, secretly saved lives.

I didn’t know it was Father.

I looked at him, and for the first time, I felt something shift—a mixture of awe and fear. He had done it. He had defied the king, risking everything.

And now, because of it… everything was at stake.

I was about to back away, thinking I had heard enough for one night, when Father’s voice cut through the quiet again.

“Elena… I might… need you and Lena to begin preparing,” he said, and this time, worry was plain in every word.

“Prepare for what, Christian?” Mother asked, her voice steady but laced with unease.

“To flee,” Father said. “I’m afraid… a fight for death is inevitable now.”

My eyes went wide.

“Death? What do you mean, Father?” I finally snapped, my voice louder than I intended.

Before I knew it, I was stepping forward, standing by the doorway, staring at him as though seeing him for the first time. His face was pale, tense, and I felt a chill creep up my spine.

Mother’s voice snapped sharply behind me. “Lena! Why are you eavesdropping?”

I didn’t even turn to look at her. My eyes stayed locked on Father. “What do you mean, Father? What’s happening?” I demanded, my voice trembling at first, then growing stronger.

He stayed silent.

That silence broke something in me. My chest ached with frustration, fear, and anger all at once.

“I hate it when the two of you do this!” I finally shouted, my voice echoing in the room. “When you keep me in the dark! Why? Because I’m a woman?”

I could see him exhale, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.

“I know the king,” Father said finally, his voice low, almost defeated. “He will order a death sentence for what I did.”

The words landed like stones in my stomach.

“And what? We can’t just sit around and let him do that!” I exclaimed.

“I won’t,” Father responded almost instantly. He stepped forward, gripping my shoulders with a firm, steadying hold. “I will not stand down and let him do as he wants anymore. I have people who stand with me now. We have a plan.”

He looked between Mother and me, his eyes sharp but reassuring.

“Then I will stand by you, Father!” I said, my voice fierce. I was about to say more, to promise that I would do anything—but then his next words froze me where I stood.

“Even if it means standing against the prince?”

I blinked, my voice catching. “What do you mean?”

“Standing against the king,” Father said slowly, “means standing against his legacy… and the prince is part of that legacy.”

I felt my chest tighten. “No… Matthew… he’s not like him, Father. He’s… he’s different.” My voice broke, tinged with disbelief and fear.

Father’s gaze didn’t waver. “But the people I am with… their vision… is to wipe out the king’s entire direct bloodline.”

My heart stuttered. I swallowed hard, trying to steady myself, trying to fight down the terror curling in my stomach.

Matthew… my mind whispered. Could I… would I ever…

I had no answers. Only a fierce, impossible choice stretching out before me.