At the top of the grand entrance stood Prince Kamil, posture straight, expression calm, the kind of calm that masked calculation. Beside him, Queen Mother Samitra watched every movement with the sharp pride of a ruler who saw her bloodline as legacy, not family. 

Kamil looked every inch the ruler he was born to become, yet his mind was far from the ceremony.

That voice from yesterday still lingered.

A voice that stopped his breath, even though he never saw the girl.

Just a silhouette - a small back, slim, graceful, bent toward the flowers near the courtyard's fountain.

He had stood there for several seconds, unseen, watching the way her hair shimmered beneath the sunlight, the way her hum seemed to weave into the rustling leaves.

And then, before he could take a step closer, someone had called his name - and the moment was gone.

"Your Highness," Queen Mother Samitra's voice broke through his silence. "Compose yourself. The gates are opening."

Kamil exhaled quietly and nodded. "Yes, Mother."

From a short distance, Kaan watched, eyes dark, jaw tight. Bashi noticed the flicker of emotion - interest, jealousy, something close to possession - and smiled faintly, the kind of smile that never reached the eyes.

"She's here," Queen Ayisha murmured quietly. A convoy of luxury black vehicles rolled in immediately the massive gate opened tinted windows, royal insignias glinting beneath the sun, escorted by motorcades bearing Nalal's crimson crest. Nalal - Azzam's strongest ally, and its most dangerous rival.

The central door opened. Princess Jodha stepped out. Every camera flash seemed to chase her at once. Her heels clicked softly against the marble as she approached, her emerald gown catching the light in waves. She smiled. 

Then Kamil descended the steps, offering his hand.

"Princess Jodha," he said, voice calm and even. 

"Welcome to Azzam." Her hand slid into his. "My prince, Azzam is even more breathtaking than I remember," she said. "Or perhaps, it's your welcome that makes it so".

"Perhaps it only shines this way for guests," Kamil replied, his lips curving ever so slightly.

Queen Ayisha stepped forward gracefully. "The royal council awaits inside. Let's not keep them waiting."

Jodha's gaze lingered on Kamil a moment longer before she nodded and allowed herself to be led toward the golden hall. But Kamil's eyes drifted elsewhere - toward the far end of the courtyard, near the servants' line, where a young girl in a simple linen dress carried a tray of petals. For a second, he froze.

Something in the way she moved,  the way she hummed faintly under her breath - it was her.

The voice. Kamil's gaze followed that girl until she disappeared behind the golden doors. Behind them, courtiers whispered softly. Some admired Jodha's beauty; others wondered how soon the marriage talks would begin. The procession turned toward the palace doors, Lady Mirian stood silently above the entrance platform. Her gaze followed Kamil, She smiled faintly.

Everyone looked at Jodha.

No one looked at her.She told herself it didn't matter. That Kamil was her stepbrother and that's all. She tried to shift her gaze away but but her eyes betrayed her. They followed him - the way his hand stretched out lightly for Jodha, the calm focus in his face, the quiet authority in how he stood beside the princess while walking into the grand hall.

He looked like the future of Azzam. And she hated that it made her heart ache.

"Admiring the crown again?"

The voice behind her was low, almost mocking.

She turned. Kaan stood at the edge of the balcony, leaning casually against the rail, his smile all sharp edges.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people," Mirian said evenly.

Kaan's smirk deepened. "You were too busy staring to notice."

Her eyes narrowed. "Careful, Kaan. You sound like you're jealous."

"Jealous?" He chuckled under his breath. "Hardly. But I find it... interesting. The way you look at him."

Mirian's jaw tightened. "Watch your words."

"I'm only saying what everyone else pretends not to see," he murmured, stepping closer.

"You hide it well, but not from me."

She held his gaze. "And what exactly do you think you see?"

"Longing," Kaan said simply. "And fear."

Then Mirian smiled, slow and deliberate. "Be careful, Kaan. You're playing too close to a fire that doesn't care who it burns."

He tilted his head. "Maybe I like the heat."

Before she could reply, the soft chime of the palace intercom interrupted them.

"All royal members are requested in the grand hall."Mirian turned toward the sound, breaking the tension. "Duty calls," she said.

Kaan's eyes lingered on her as she walked away, his grin fading into something darker.

"I'll see you there," he said quietly.

The grand hall glowed beneath towering chandeliers. Reporters, diplomats, and council members filled the space, their murmurs blending with the orchestral hum in the background.

Kamil stood near the center, Jodha at his side - poised, smiling, saying all the right things. Queen Mother Samitra observed from her seat. Bashi hovered nearby, laughter smooth, eyes always calculating.

Mirian entered last, calm, composed. Her steps slowed when she caught Kamil's gaze -brief, polite, distant.

He nodded once.

She smiled in return. Across the room, Kaan watched the exchange with quiet satisfaction. At the banquet, Kamil sat at the head of the table, Queen Mother Samitra to his right, Princess Jodha to his left. Her perfume was soft but distinct.

"Your city is stunning, Your Highness," Jodha said, swirling her wine delicately. "I could feel its pulse even before we landed. It's... alive."

Kamil offered a courteous nod. "Azzam thrives on its people. They're the true crown of this kingdom."

"Spoken like a ruler who loves his land," she replied, smiling faintly. "Or perhaps like one trying to impress his future queen?"

The words hung like smoke.

A few seats down, Bashi laughed too loudly. "Ah, Princess, your wit is sharper than rumor claimed."

"Rumors travel faster than truth," Jodha said coolly, her eyes never leaving Kamil's."Indeed," Queen Mother Samitra added smoothly. "And truth has a way of revealing itself when the time is right."

Bashi bowed his head slightly, hiding a smirk. "Then I hope we all live long enough to see it."

Kaan's eyes flicked toward his father - a silent exchange neither approving nor dissenting, but full of shared understanding.

Across the table, Mirian lowered her gaze to her plate, the silver fork trembling slightly between her fingers. Every compliment Jodha threw felt like a spark against her skin. Kamil remained composed, distant but attentive.

"Tell me, Your Highness," Jodha said softly, leaning closer, "do you ever tire of all this?" She gestured

He paused. "Tired isn't the word. But peace is... rare."

"Then perhaps," she murmured, "you simply haven't met the right person to share it with."

Queen Ayisha cleared her throat, forcing a polite smile. "Shall we raise a toast to the union between two great kingdoms?" 

Glasses lifted.

Kamil's glass stayed steady in his hand, his eyes on the reflection of Jodha's smile in the wine.

Across the table, Mirian couldn't drink. Her throat was tight, her heart louder than the music. 

When the toast ended, Queen Mother Samitra rose gracefully. "We'll give our guests a tour of the palace before the council resumes tomorrow. Tonight, we celebrate."

The musicians began to play - soft strings, royal rhythm. As the crowd shifted, Jodha leaned close once more.

"Your Highness," she whispered, "tell me - is it true the gardens behind the east wing are where Azzam's crown princes go to think?"

Kamil's lips curved faintly. "Sometimes."

"Then I hope you'll show me," she said, eyes gleaming. "I'd like to see where the future king hides his thoughts."Bashi caught the exchange - and his smirk deepened.

He didn't need to sabotage the crown prince tonight. If Jodha's charm didn't distract him, her secrets surely would.

Earlier That Morning

Students poured out of Azzam Academy, some cheering, others already planning their next escape.

Milan stood by the neem tree, her bag clutched to her chest, watching Mabel and Mikel from a distance. The twins were surrounded by friends, laughing.

When Mabel finally noticed her, she waved, her smile softer - guilty almost. Mikel pretended not to see her.

You could've waited," Milan said quietly when Mabel reached her.

"I told him to," Mabel sighed, "but you know Mikel." Milan nodded.

Hiba appeared, bright as sunlight. "We're done! I swear I'll sleep for a week."

Milan smiled at her best friend. "Enjoy it while it lasts. I already know Mom will find me something to do." Mabel looked away, tightening her grip on her books.

"Maybe she just wants to help you stay busy," Hiba said quickly, trying to lighten the air.

"Maybe," Milan murmured, though both she and Mabel knew it wasn't true.

They walked together until Hiba's street came up. She hugged them both before leaving, whispering to Milan. 

That evening, Amy called her into the living room.

"Your father's been asking for help in the royal kitchen. You'll start tomorrow."Amy said , not raising her eyes from the cup she's holding.

Mabel glanced up, surprised. "She's working in the palace?"Amy's lips curved. "The palace is recruiting new maids for the crown prince. Your father got her the form. Let her make herself useful."

Milan just nodded. It wasn't an offer ,it was an order. Plus she will finally be free and far from her stepmother. 

Later in the next , she arrived at the palace. Her father met her briefly at the back entrance, handing her a silver tray filled with rose petals.

"Take this to the courtyard. They'll need it for the princess's arrival," he said kindly.

She smiled faintly and obeyed.

As she crossed the courtyard, she began to hum - softly, unconsciously - the same melody

🎶I could tell what peace is but it hasn't found me , 🎶I could tell what life is but it hasn't breath in me. 🎶If anyone finds it , Tell it Milan need it 

🎶My mother was me before the night day goes dark 🎶My mother named me wishing I would be her 🎶And I realized I was her before the day goes dark.

The celebration of Princess Jodha's arrival had stretched late into the night, but by dawn, the halls glittered as though nothing had happened.

Somewhere in the east quarters, Milan buttoned her simple uniform - pale cream with a neat waist tie. Her eyes felt heavy, but her hands moved fast. Amy had warned her the palace was strict; one mistake and you were sent home.

Three days had passed since their final exams. While others rested,she's in the palace working, assisting when needed and helping with cleaning rotations. Today, her father had handed her a slip of paper stamped with the royal seal

"Report to the east wing," it read."New assignment: Prince's household." Her heart had skipped a beat - the crown prince's wing? Why?

At that same hour, Prince Kamil stepped out of his car at the private gate of the royal residence, a black mask still covering half his face from the city dust.

He'd spent the night at his penthouse in Rizon City as he barely have time for his friends .

Liam had insisted on keeping him out till nearly dawn while Abel supported.

"Bro, you're not even twenty and you act like you're fifty," Abel had teased, halfway through a drink."Ruling doesn't start when the crown sits," Kamil had replied, dryly. "It starts when no one gives you a choice."

Now, back in the silence of Azzam Palace, he felt that weight again. The guards bowed as he walked in. No one dared speak. Milan entered the east wing through the servant corridor. It was too quiet. Even the air smelled different. She was carrying a tray of polished glasses when she heard the sound of footsteps coming from behind the tall indoor garden that separated the east wing from the main hall.

A man's voice drifted closer ,low and deep.

She turned - and nearly bumped into him.

"Oh, I'm sorry!" she said quickly, steadying the tray.

Kamil blinked, caught off guard. He wasn't used to being apologized to - people usually bowed, froze, or overreacted.

"It's fine," he said simply, stepping aside. His voice was calm, and she didn't look up long enough to recognize him.

Milan nodded, embarrassed. "Thank you. I-I'm still learning my way around."

"New?" he asked.

"Yes, sir. Just got assigned here this morning. I was supposed to bring these to..." She glanced at the note in her pocket. "...the prince's study."

Kamil's mouth twitched. "The prince's study, huh?"

"Yes. They said he doesn't like delays. Or noise."

"That sounds accurate," Kamil said with a faint smile.

"You sound like you know him," she said, curious now, but still not looking up long enough to notice the resemblance to the portraits she'd seen on the palace wall."Maybe I do."

She sighed. "Then tell him his maids work too much. We clean, we polish, we serve, we bow- by the time I blink, it's midnight again."

He almost laughed. "I'll... mention it."

"Please do," she said, grinning slightly. "Maybe he'll pity us and give us a day off."

He couldn't help himself - he laughed, quietly.

Before Milan could say more, another voice called sharply from the corridor:

"Milan! Hurry, they're calling all staff to the main entrance!"

She jumped. "I have to go. Um-sorry again!"

She turned and hurried away, balancing her tray carefully. Kamil watched her until she disappeared around the corner. Something about her lingered - the way she spoke freely, the lack of fear, the faint trace of a voice he couldn't forget.

He exhaled slowly, his lips curving.

"So the voice has a face," he murmured.

Kamil stood near the tall windows of his private lounge, watching the gardens below. The girl from earlier lingered in his thoughts - the maid with the linen uniform and eyes too bright for this place.

He shouldn't still be thinking about it.

It was nothing. Just a voice.

Just a face.

He told himself that twice, then once more for good measure. A soft knock came, then the door opened without waiting for permission. 

"Your Highness," Liam announced dramatically, pushing the door wider, "your palace is too quiet. It's depressing. I nearly fell asleep three times before getting here, we thought to surprise you by coming ."

 Abel followed, sunglasses still on indoors. "He's not lying. Plus there's more life in a cemetery."Kamil turned slowly. "You're both supposed to be resting."

Liam flopped onto the couch. "Resting is for people without palaces. Abel smirked. "Or maids."

Kamil's brow lifted. "Maids?"

Liam shot Abel a look. "Don't start."

Abel ignored him. "Word travels fast, Your Highness. Something about a new recruit bumping into you this morning. I didn't know palace gossip spread faster than the news."

Kamil exhaled, leaning back against the window ledge. "It's barely minutes , You both need new hobbies."

"Oh, come on," Liam said. "You haven't laughed like that in months. Abel said one of the guards saw you smile."

"I always smile."

"Sure," Abel said dryly, "just never where people can see it."

Kamil's lips curved - barely. "Maybe you're all imagining things."

Liam grinned. "Describe her."

"Who?"

"The maid."

Kamil's silence made them grin wider.

"I don't remember," he said finally. "It was brief."

"Brief," Liam repeated. "Yet here we are, talking about it."

Kamil's gaze drifted to the gardens again.

"I'm not talking about this," he muttered.Abel stretched lazily. "Of course you're not."

Liam leaned forward. "If you ever start sneaking out to the east wing, we'll know why."

Kamil threw a pillow at him. "Get out."

Liam ducked, laughing. "Love looks good on you, Crown Prince."

"Love?" Kamil scoffed. "It's curiosity. Nothing more."

But as the door closed behind them, the word stuck.

Curiosity.

Then why did his chest feel lighter than it had in weeks?

Why did he suddenly find himself wishing the palace weren't so large... so he could cross paths with her again?

He sighed, pressing his hand against the cool glass and for the briefest second, he thought he heard it again - that soft hum, floating in the afternoon air.

Milan clutched a stack of folded linens to her chest, trying not to look lost. Her first full day as a palace maid, and already she had taken three wrong turns and to worsen it all, it's noon already . She hasn't been able to rest well.

The uniforms were stiff, the walls endless, and the people- Well, they all seemed to know where they belonged while she didn't

She grumbled,"if hiba ever says working here is fun, I'll drown her in soap water."

"Violent first day?" a voice teased.

Milan turned sharply.

A young man stood by the archway, tall, dressed simply in a dark shirt - no royal insignia, nothing that gave away his rank. His eyes were unreadable, but they held quiet amusement.

"Oh, I'm sorry," she stammered, clutching her linens tighter. "I didn't mean- I thought I was alone.""You are," he said lightly. "Mostly."

She frowned. "That doesn't make sense."

He smiled, "This palace rarely does."

Milan tilted her head, studying him. "You work here too?"

"Something like that," he said. "You?"

"New maid," she said, managing a nervous smile. "They said I'll be helping in the east wing."

He nodded slowly - his wing. "Busy place."

"You sound like you know it well."

"Let's say I've been around."

She chuckled, loosening slightly. "Then maybe you can show me around sometime... mister...?"

He hesitated, then said, "Rami."

"Milan," she said, extending her hand.

He looked at it, then shook it - careful, measured. "Nice to meet you, Milan."

She sighed in relief. "At least one person here isn't terrifying."

Kamil - Rami - smiled faintly. "Give them time."

She laughed quietly, then added, "Honestly, I'm more worried about the rumor."

"What rumor?"

"Oh, you didn't hear?" she asked, lowering her voice. "Apparently, one of the maids bumped into the Crown Prince this morning. Now everyone's saying she might be punished."He raised a brow. "Sounds dramatic."

"Everything here is dramatic," she said. "And the worst part? It's true. I was the maid."

Kamil blinked. "You-?"trying to sound surprised. He had stepped away from his chamber for a while to come have a silent moment in the garden. 

"I didn't know he was the prince! He looked like a guard or something. I said things I shouldn't have said." She bit her lip. "And now Princess Jodha heard about it. I was called this morning by the steward. I thought I'd be fired."

"And were you?"

"No," she exhaled. "But I'm sure she hates me now."

He fought the urge to laugh. "You think the prince will punish you?"

"I hope not," she muttered. "They say he's cold. Unforgiving. The kind of man who can end your job with a look."

He tilted his head, amused. "You believe that?"

"I don't want to find out."

Kamil tried not to smile. "Maybe he's not as terrible as they say."

She snorted. "You sound like you know him."

"Maybe I do."

"Well, then," she said, stepping closer, voice dropping playfully, "put in a good word for me, Rami. I'd like to keep my job long enough to buy a new pair of shoes."

Kamil chuckled. "Consider it done."

"Thank you." She smiled, then hesitated. "You know... you don't talk like a palace worker."

He shrugged lightly. "Maybe I listen better than I talk."

"Well," she said, shifting the linens, "you're better company than most here. Friends?"He blinked.

"Friends," she repeated, holding out her pinky.

He stared at it, then linked his with hers. "Friends."

By night, Liam and Abel entered the lounge unannounced, as usual. Liam dropped a folder on Kamil's desk. "Here's the final summary from the council. And before you say you're busy, no - this can't wait."

Abel sat opposite him, typing on his tablet. "We've been monitoring the Nalal talks.

Bashi's been unusually... vocal. He's aligning himself closer to the Nalal minister."

Kamil leaned back. "That's his problem, not mine."

Abel didn't look up. "It becomes your problem when Kaan gets involved."

Kamil frowned slightly. "Kaan?"

Liam raised a brow. "You don't know him?"

Kamil shook his head. "No. Should I?"

"He's Bashi's son," Abel explained. "Arrogant. Impatient. Thinks the throne should've skipped generations."

Kamil nodded knowing fully well he would forget who kaan was the next minute . "Then he's not very bright."

Liam grinned. "Oh, he's bright. Just dangerous."

Abel added, "And if Bashi's feeding him ambitions, you might want to pay attention."

Kamil stood, gaze moving toward the window again.

He barely heard Liam say, "So, what's our next move?"

"Nothing," Kamil said quietly. "Let them talk."

Liam frowned. "You sure that's wise?"Kamil's voice was calm. "The louder they talk, the easier they are to hear."

Abel smirked. "You sound like your father."

"You don't even know him well. We were kids ." Kamil answered. Liam and Abel had been his childhood friend . They were both orphan . Kamil met them in school while he was away abroad.

From her suite balcony, Princess Jodha watched the palace gardens sway beneath her.

Her reflection in the mirror behind her wore calm perfection, diamonds burning like fire at her throat. But her mind was elsewhere.

Prince Kamil

The man everyone whispered about.

He was colder than she expected, sharper too. Every word from him felt measured. And yet...

there was something underneath it.

And it wasn't for her.

She saw it at dinner - that fleeting drift of his eyes, as if something else had caught his thoughts.

She hated that she noticed.

"Your Highness?" her handmaid, Zara, stepped inside carefully. "The council has sent the schedule for tomorrow."

"Leave it on the table," Jodha said absently.

Zara hesitated. "There's also... something you might want to know."

That made Jodha turn.

"One of the kitchen girls was talking earlier," Zara continued carefully. "She said the Crown Prince was seen at the east wing garden yesterday evening... speaking with a maid."

Jodha's voice stayed even. "And?""They said he smiled," Zara said, lowering her eyes.

The silence stretched.

Jodha's rings glinted as her fingers brushed against her wrist. "A maid?"

"Yes, Your Highness. A new recruit. " Zara stopped. "-Same one who apparently bumped into the prince a few days ago."

Jodha turned back to the window, her face unreadable.

"How amusing," Jodha said softly. "The help seems to find favor in unexpected places."

"Shall I... look into her?" Zara asked quietly.

Jodha's lips curved "Yes," she said finally. "Find out her name. Her family. Everything."

She turned away, the evening light cutting across her gown like fire. "If she thinks this palace is her fairytale, let's see how quickly dreams burn in Azzam."

In two days, Kamil would be crowned as Azzam's youngest ruler.

She sat by her vanity, letting her maid pin emeralds into her dark hair.

Her reflection smiled faintly, though her eyes were distant.

She wasn't thinking about the coronation. She was thinking about him.

A soft knock interrupted her thoughts.

Zara, her handmaid, stepped in quietly and bowed.

"Your Highness... a small report came from the servant's hall. I thought you might want to hear."

Jodha's eyes flicked toward the mirror. "A report?""Yes," Zara said carefully. "It's about the maid - Milan. She... shares the same birthday as the Crown Prince. The servants are talking about it."

Jodha's expression sharpened. "The same day?"

"Yes, Your Highness. A days from now."

"Interesting," she murmured, twisting an earring between her fingers.

"Does the prince know?" she asked.

"No, Your Highness. It's just gossip among the staff."

Jodha smiled, slow and deliberate. "Then let's keep it that way."

Zara hesitated. "Should I tell the Queen Mother?"

"Not yet," Jodha said, turning back to her mirror. "Let them celebrate their little servant birthdays. The palace has bigger things to worry about."

Her voice was calm, "I don't like coincidences." Especially ones that sounded like destiny.

Down in the servants' quarters, the air buzzed with energy of a different kind.

Milan adjusted her apron and brushed flour off her sleeves as she hurried between the kitchens. Her father's laughter echoed from the far end giving instructions to the palace cooks.

"Add more saffron! His Highness prefers it mild, not drowning!" he called out, ladle in hand.

Milan grinned softly. "You say that like you're the one getting crowned, Father."

He turned, mock-offended. "And why not? I've served three crowns in this palace. That's longer than most nobles have held their titles."

She laughed, stepping closer to hand him a bowl. "Then maybe they should be bowing to you.""Don't tempt me," he said with a wink.

Then his tone softened. "Two days, eh? Your birthday again. Seems like just yesterday your mother was-"

He stopped. The smile faltered. They both knew how the sentence ended.

Milan squeezed his hand gently. "She'd be proud, Father."

He nodded once, then cleared his throat quickly. "You should be in the east wing by now. The decorators are waiting for extra help. Go before I get scolded for keeping you."

She smiled, kissed his cheek, and turned to leave.

As she walked through the hall, the air shimmered with noise , the sound of a thousand dreams colliding in one palace. She didn't notice the man watching from the upper balcony - his robe unbuttoned at the collar, his expression unreadable.

Kamil leaned against the marble rail, eyes following her for a heartbeat too long.

Liam's voice broke the silence beside him. "You're staring again."

Kamil didn't answer.

Abel chuckled from behind. "At least this time, it's daylight."

Kamil's gaze didn't move. "She said her name's Milan."

"Ah," Liam said, pretending to think. "The one who nearly started a court scandal."

"She didn't start anything."

Abel smirked. "Defensive already. Should we alert the Queen Mother?"

Kamil turned to them with a quiet warning in his tone. "Don't."

They exchanged glances - half teasing, half serious."You know," Liam said, "Jodha won't take kindly to any rumor that involves another girl.

Especially not now."

"I know," Kamil said simply.

He turned back toward the courtyard - where Milan was now helping the florists arrange golden petals by the fountain.

He didn't understand why he suddenly wished the coronation would take longer to come.