Lirae

The room is full. Not stuffy, no, but full of soft voices, rustling silks, and goblets that barely touch. The hanging lanterns cast a soft golden light that caresses the edges of the ivory columns. I know this place. I walked through it as a child, holding my mother’s hand tightly. It was a celebration even then, but my feet were not yet firmly on the ground.

Today, however, I dance among the adults, pretending to be one of them.

My tail moves slowly, swaying with controlled grace between the layers of my dress. It is not nervousness. It is attention. In crowded places like this, I do not like to leave it uncovered. But tonight… tonight I let it dance. I feel I can afford it. * “Lady Aenya… you are lovely tonight. " * I turn slowly. The voice is that of Lord Kaevan, one of the High Judge’s sons. He smiles with his usual feigned ease, but his eyes are more sincere: they descend on my golden horns with a mixture of respect and discomfort. It is always like this.

I nod gently, bowing my head slightly.

" I thank you, my lord. Your company is always kind. " *

That is not true, but it goes without saying. He passes by with a distracted bow, and I go back to listening. Voices, laughter, the music of strings plucked in a corner. The sounds envelop me, but do not penetrate me. I remain suspended in that fragile threshold between the room and myself.

The scent of spices and honey comes from a tray that brushes my side. I take a candied fruit and bring it to my lips. The flavor explodes, sweet and warm.

A servant approaches. *

" Lady Aenya, your presence is requested at the central terrace. The Duchess awaits you. "

" Thank you. I will join her shortly. "

I move among the guests with measured slowness. My bare feet brush the cool marble. My anklets tinkle slightly. Each step is a danced gesture, but not a theatrical one. I am not here to perform. I just want to exist, to be seen without having to shine.

And that is when I see him. A man, standing by the archway leading to the terrace. He does not speak. He does not laugh. He observes. The clothes he wears are impeccable, the discreet elegance of someone who does not need to show off. I know who he is. Everyone knows. The prince has recently arrived at Vaellor's court, and stories are already being woven among the ladies and maids.

He does not look at me immediately. But then... yes. His eyes rest on me. * * I feel the skin on my neck quiver slightly. Not from fear. It is the awareness of being watched. It is like the air before a storm, when silence changes consistency. My tail, rebellious, makes a slow circular movement around my leg, as if it wanted to defend me or decorate me.

I lower my gaze slightly, more out of reflex than embarrassment. I have lived on the margins enough to know that certain glances should not be returned too quickly. It is not a question of humility. It is caution.

I approach the terrace. My steps slow down involuntarily, when I pass by him. I say nothing. Neither of us do.

But his gaze... I can still feel it on my skin when the Duchess takes me by the arm and leads me among her guests. *

" I looked for you, little star. You are radiant. But be careful: that elegant figure... you saw it, right? "

" Yes. "

I don't say anything else. It is useless. I sit down next to her, but I still feel the cold of his gaze, like the night, not a freezing cold, but the disinterested cold of the night, which only wants to give peace to those who feel too hot. *

The wind blew through the tall branches of the hanging garden, carrying with it the sweet scent of citrus blossoms. The curtains hung between the columns danced slowly, like tired clouds, and the sun filtered through the veils, making everything soft, golden, almost unreal.

I was lying on a rug spread out in the center of the lawn, my head resting on a too-soft pillow, my hands clasped across my stomach. My tail moved in lazy circles in the air, lifting the tips of the tall grass that brushed my bare leg.

I laughed. A small, almost distracted laugh.

Velren was sitting nearby, his shirt unbuttoned and his sleeves rolled up. He was reading aloud from a book of ancient proverbs, but he changed the words to make them sound absurd.

" 'He who tramples the basilisk before dawn...' "

" ...'finds himself sleeping with his shoes on fire.' "

We both burst out laughing. A free sound. No one was listening to us there. No one was supposed to see us "composed."

I closed my eyes. For a moment, I could have sworn that nothing could ruin that truce. No name, no house, no duty. Only the sun, the scent of cardamom tea, and the silence that smelled of true friendship.

Then I heard footsteps.

Not loud, but determined. Velren heard them too. He stiffened.

I rose slowly, my tail tucked in as if to defend me, wrapping itself around my side.

Theren. The chancellor.

He had his hands behind his back, his gaze down. There was something in the way he approached that made my breathing cool.

" Lady Aenya. I'm sorry to interrupt. "

He never did this without reason.

" The Council has decided. "

My mouth opened slightly, but no sound came out.

Velren stood beside me. Very stiff. He didn't speak. He didn't need to.

" The marriage to the prince will be formalized on the next waxing moon. "

*3 There was a silence so long that even the wind seemed to hold its breath.

*3

" ...So soon? "

" The Court has received confirmation. The prince's sister will be present. He... will arrive within three days. "

Three days.

The blood in my veins seemed to have lost its direction. My tail stiffened against my back, like a blade ready to escape.

Theren continued, as if reading a document carved in stone.

" The meeting between you will be private. Before the ceremony. "

" Private? "

" The prince's wishes. No escort. No protocol. "

I closed my eyes.

For a moment, I felt the sun on my skin like something foreign. Warm, but useless.

Velren stepped forward. His voice firm.

" Is this an order? "

" It's a fact. "

Theren bowed his head and walked away. He didn't add anything. He didn't ask if I was okay. He already knew it didn't matter.

When we were alone, Velren turned to me. *

" Three days. "

" Can I… "

My voice failed me. My breath failed me.

Then slowly sank to a sitting position. My hands on my knees. My tail trembled slightly, as if it sensed something before I did.

" They call him the cruel prince, right? "

" Yes. "

" And they say only his sister can speak to him as if he were... human. "

" Everyone says so. "

I looked at the curtains still dancing in the wind. Before, they seemed light. Now they looked like ropes, loosely knotted.

Three days.

A name I'd never spoken. A face no one dared describe.

And soon... a meeting. Without witnesses.

" Velren... what if he doesn't want to marry me? "

" I'm afraid it's much worse if he does. "

And the sun, finally, began to set.

This time, no one held him back. *

The rear door of the south wing no longer creaked, ever since I'd secretly oiled it. I opened it carefully, my heart beating as if I were stealing something sacred—my freedom.

The city of Tharalein stretched beyond the residence's ornate walls, alive with its markets, its pale stone streets, and the unmistakable smell of sweet bread, ripe fruit, and river water.

I had no plan. Only one direction: away.

I walked lightly, hiding my horns under a simple linen hood. My tail, impossible to ignore, trailed behind me like a ribbon. A few curious glances, but no one to stop me.

After a while, the crowd faded. The voices grew thinner. The streets widened into a smaller square, surrounded by an ancient colonnade and flowering vines. At the center, a small park: low trees, a worn lawn, a few fountains dulled by time.

And there, children. Maybe ten, maybe more. Some barefoot, their knees dirty, their fingers caked with dirt and petals. They were laughing. Two played wooden flutes; a little girl danced her own way, hopping in a circle, without rhythm but with all her heart.

I stopped to watch them, hidden under the shade of a magnolia tree.

And something inside me... melted.

I dropped my hood. The air caressed my cheeks like a blessing. Then I slipped off my light shoes and placed them to the side. My tail stretched out freely, as if it knew it could.

I entered the meadow. They said nothing. They looked at me. One stopped playing. The hopping girl stopped.

" Do you want to dance too?"

Her voice was pure, weightless. I nodded.

And then I danced.

Bare feet on the grass, soft gestures, the body returning to its own. No protocol, no judgmental glances. Just the sun filtering through the branches, and the subtle sound of the flutes slowly resuming.

The children joined in. Some imitated my movements, others ran around, laughing. One little girl took my hand. Another tried to follow my tail as if it were a festive ribbon.

And I, I laughed.

I really laughed.

For a few, infinite minutes, I was not a promise. I was not a bridge. I was not noble blood nor ancient lineage.

I was only Lirae.

Lirae dancing.

Lirae breathing.

Lirae fearless.

And when I stopped, tired and sweaty, sitting on the grass, with two sleeping children on my lap, a round-faced elderly woman—perhaps a cook, perhaps a caretaker—approached. *

" You made them smile. They hadn't laughed like that in days. "

I looked at her with a hint of surprise.

" This place… is it an orphanage? "

" It was. Now it's a refuge for those with nowhere else to go. Like them. Like, perhaps, you too. "

I looked down. My heartbeat slowed. My tail trembled slightly and then relaxed, resting beside me like a sleeping animal.

" Just for today… "

"

Just today. "

And she said nothing else.

I stayed there until sunset. No one looked for me. Or maybe they did, but they didn't find me.

In that moment, I was too alive to be taken back. *