the timid bride

**Chapter 34 – The Mask Slips**

The sun broke through the tall windows like golden blades, slicing through the shadows that clung to Zara's room. She sat by the vanity, her eyes tracing the edges of her reflection — the faint bruise on her wrist, the hollow under her eyes, the way her lips pressed tightly together like she was holding in more than just silence.

The palace maid, Rina, stood behind her, gently pinning her hair into a neat twist.

"His Highness says you are to remain indoors today," Rina said carefully, avoiding eye contact.

Zara nodded slightly. "I know."

"He also sent breakfast. And… these."

The maid reached into the basket she carried and placed a folded silk scarf, a small gold hairpin shaped like a raven, and a thin book of poetry on the table.

Zara stared at the items.

"Did he say why?"

"No, my lady. Only that they were 'yours now.'"

Zara touched the hairpin. The metal was cold, expensive. Unnecessary.

This wasn't an apology. It was a statement.

A silent way for Kael to say, *I control your world—but I can soften the cage.*

Still, a strange warmth fluttered in her chest. A part of her—a part she didn't want to admit—liked that he noticed her silence, that he sent something delicate instead of commands.

She rose from the chair slowly and crossed to the window.

Down in the courtyard, the palace bustled with activity. Servants moved like shadows, nobles strutted like peacocks, and soldiers patrolled with bored discipline.

And there, like a dark flame in the middle of it all, stood Prince Kael.

He was speaking with a group of nobles, his body still, his gestures sharp and efficient. Even from a distance, Zara could see how they looked at him — not with affection, but with fear wrapped in admiration.

She wondered what it must feel like to command a world like that. To never be questioned.

She also wondered how long a lamb could survive among lions.

—

Later that afternoon, a knock came at her door.

She expected Rina again. Instead, it was Lady Mirelle.

Zara's breath caught.

She didn't open the door. "What do you want?"

"Don't be foolish, girl," came the sharp voice. "I've brought a gift."

Zara hesitated, then slowly opened the door halfway.

Lady Mirelle stood tall, dressed in emerald satin, her hair coiled in perfect spirals. She looked as elegant and venomous as ever.

She held out a box — long and wrapped in dark green silk.

"A token of goodwill," she said smoothly. "After yesterday's… misunderstanding."

Zara didn't take it.

"I don't want anything from you."

Lady Mirelle laughed softly. "Still pretending to be noble? Darling, you were sold to this palace. Just like I was, once."

Zara stiffened. "You were never timid."

"No," Mirelle agreed, eyes flashing. "And look where that got me — replaced by a quiet little ghost who doesn't know how to play the game."

Zara finally took the box, not because she wanted it — but because rejecting it would make her seem weaker.

Lady Mirelle smiled.

"Oh," she said as she turned to leave. "The Queen Mother has requested your presence at her tea table. Today."

Zara blinked. "But… Kael said—"

"I imagine she outranks him in some ways." Mirelle's smirk widened. "Be ready in an hour."

—

The Queen Mother's private garden was nothing like the rest of the palace. It was quiet. Controlled. Every flower perfectly trimmed, every tree shaped by decades of slow, patient pruning.

Zara sat stiffly on a cushioned bench, her hands folded in her lap.

Across from her, the Queen Mother—an aging woman with silver hair braided down her back and a stare like ice—sipped from a delicate cup.

"I've heard… rumors," the Queen Mother began, setting her teacup down. "That you've become... mouthy."

Zara swallowed hard. "I spoke my mind to the prince. Once."

"He let you live. That's progress."

Zara didn't know how to respond.

The Queen Mother studied her for a moment longer. "You remind me of myself when I was young. Quiet. Unwanted. And underestimated."

Zara glanced up, surprised.

"I was married at fifteen. The old king didn't want me either. But I made sure he needed me. I earned my place through strategy, not softness."

She leaned forward.

"You'll survive this place, child — but not by trembling in corners. Choose your alliances. Play the part. And remember: power in this palace wears many faces."

Zara nodded slowly. "I understand."

The Queen Mother leaned back, satisfied.

"One more thing. Prince Kael… he is not cruel for cruelty's sake. He was shaped by fire. But even fire warms, when used wisely."

Zara blinked.

Was that a warning… or a blessing?

—

By the time she returned to her chambers, Kael was waiting.

He sat at her writing desk, one leg crossed over the other, flipping through her poetry book.

"You weren't in your room," he said without looking up.

"I was summoned."

He raised a brow. "By whom?"

"The Queen Mother."

Kael's expression changed. He set the book down. "She rarely summons anyone."

"She said I remind her of herself."

Kael stood slowly. "Did she threaten you?"

"No. She… gave advice."

A pause.

Then Kael walked toward her, his movements quieter than usual, less sharp. When he reached her, he reached out again, brushing a stray curl behind her ear.

"I don't like you walking around this palace alone."

"I wasn't alone. I was summoned."

Kael looked at her for a long moment. Then, unexpectedly, he laughed.

"You're learning to argue."

"I'm learning to speak."

He stepped closer. His fingers grazed her chin again.

"And do you know what happens when you speak too much?"

Her breath caught. "You silence me?"

"No." His voice dipped. "I listen."

Zara didn't know what to say to that. It wasn't the answer she expected.

He stepped back again, just slightly. Just enough to leave her rattled.

"Tomorrow," he said, "you'll join me in court. Sit beside me. Speak only when necessary."

"Is it safe?" she asked.

His gaze locked on hers.

"With me?" he said. "Always."

—

That night, Zara lay awake in her bed, staring at the ceiling.

Lady Mirelle's words rang in her ears. So did the Queen Mother's. And Kael's.

This palace was dangerous. But it was also full of strange, sharp beauty.

And the man she feared… might be the only one keeping the wolves at bay.