“I've come to realise that, regardless of what I do, it never quite seems to measure up to my father's expectations,” Zeya confessed as he strolled back to his apartment with Khin Yu by his side.

  The sun was slowly dipping behind the camphor trees that bordered the pace gardens, its final golden rays brushing lightly against the men’s hair. The air hung close and still. It was clear the night would be a warm one. The steady hum of cicadas echoed around them as they followed the main path back towards the pace compound.

  “His Majesty's expectations are high only because he wishes Your Highness to be prepared, for anything and everything,” Khin Yu put forward.

  His face was pcid like the undisturbed waters of a ke but his brow pinched, just slightly. Zeya noticed it at once. That look always meant something more y beneath.

  “What is it, Khin Yu? You look a bit troubled.”

  “Hmmm,” Khin Yu mumbled then after a pause he asked, “Your Highness met with Lady Sein again. Is there a growing attachment?”

  Zeya halted mid-stride, one brow arched. Then a chuckle escaped him.

  “What in the world gave you that idea? I know you’re rather protective of me, almost like a mother duck guarding her duckling. But really, do you think she’s actually pursuing me?”

  Khin Yu was deep in thought. The ‘growing attachment’ he spoke of was referring to Zeya’s feelings. Since meeting Lady Sein, the Crown Prince had changed noticeably. He was lighter in mood and his spirits markedly lifted. In Khin Yu’s eyes, such a shift was cause for concern.

  As Khin Yu remained silent, Zeya mused openly, “Honestly, if she’s after me, she’s doing a rather poor job of it. Besides, I’ve taken great care to be courteous, naturally, but never in a way that might be mistaken for encouragement.”

  He continued walking, now at a slower pace as he reflected on the matter. His mind repyed that mortifying blunder. He shook his head recalling how he’d said ‘I’m all yours’ instead of ‘I’m all ears’, which they ughed off together. It was reassuring to be with someone who didn’t take things too seriously and could share a ugh.

  Zeya was keenly conscious of the power and privilege his status afforded him. He had seen too many high-born lords exploit their rank, and he was resolute in distancing himself from such conduct. He approached every interaction with care, especially where the dies of the court were concerned.

  Since Sein had shown no hint of interest, he’d felt at ease enough to let his guard drop, revealing a pyful nature few outside his family ever glimpsed. He’d even been comfortable enough to clearly state his intentions, saying, “I do hope we might become friends and unravel this ancient mystery together.”

  Khin Yu misread Zeya’s silence and spoke up, “Do not be worried, Your Highness, I do not think Lady Sein is interested.”

  “Well, that’s a relief to hear because I’ve no interest in her either,” Zeya remarked lightly.

  On one hand, he was gd none of his interactions with Sein had been taken the wrong way, yet, an unexpected pang tugged at him. He should have felt reassured by Khin Yu’s comment, but instead he found himself oddly disappointed.

  Shaking off the feeling, he went on, “She’s very much like her brother, and that’s exactly how I see her—a friend. I just enjoy our conversations, especially since she’s helping with history studies. That’s all there is to it.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “You can ‘hmm’ all you like, Khin Yu, but I’m not easily tempted by a beautiful face. I’m already spoken for and I mean to honour it,” Zeya said, though he sensed the words were as much for himself as for Khin Yu.

  The thought of his betrothal to Princess Nanda weighed on him, like wearing armour that dulled sensation and made each movement feel boured.

  Just the week before, Zeya had been summoned to a consultation with the royal spiritual advisor, Saryet. The presence of both the King and Queen signalled the meeting’s significance.

  Seated between them, Zeya felt the tension in the room like a sudden drop in temperature, their coldness towards one another giving him instant frostbite.

  It’s been two weeks since Uncle Royu’s visit, he thought. And they’re still at odds?

  His gaze moved to a gold-edged scroll Saryet had pced gently upon the rosewood table. It was a celestial calendar combining lunar cycles and pnetary alignments.

  Saryet smiled at him, a look of serenity etched into features shaped by years of mindful practice. The man produced a cquered elemental wheel from its box and set it beside the scroll, his eyes never leaving the prince.

  Zeya shifted slightly, the intensity of Saryet’s gaze was unsettling. It was as though the man could see through him, past the calm exterior, straight to the unease and sense of doom lodged in his chest.

  “Your Highness, may I confirm the day of your birth?” Saryet asked, gently pushing back the sleeves of his robe to reveal his forearms. “It is the twenty-first day of the st month of Summer, is it not? And Princess Nanda was born on the thirteenth day of the second month of Spring?”

  “Correct,” Zeya responded, gncing at his mother for assurance. She smiled at him.

  “The time of birth was two thirty-eight in the morning,” the Queen offered, anticipating the next question. “We believe Princess Nanda arrived at five twenty-two in the afternoon.”

  Saryet nodded in acknowledgement. His eyes flicked to the chart before him, the ntern light catching on the smooth dome of his head. He measured various points with a slender wooden stick, then consulted the elemental wheel.

  Zeya watched with fascination.

  So that’s how important dates are settled, he mused with slight amusement. Remarkable, how this old gentleman wields influence over my father!

  At length, Saryet looked up, a satisfied smile spreading across his face. He announced, “On the 14th day of Spring’s second moon of the year of the Tiger, when the moon is full, and Spirit of Love and Marriage walks the earth, and neither pnets nor elements crosses the betrothal stars. This is the day the heavens favour. Let the prince be wed then, if his father so wills.”

  And that was how Zeya’s wedding date was fixed: two years from now. And he was keenly aware of the countdown the moment he stepped outside after the meeting. It had concluded swiftly, before the hour was up, and Khin Yu had yet to arrive to escort the Crown Prince back to his apartment.

  Zeya welcomed the solitude; there was no need for the mask of joviality. He could allow a flicker of misery to show on his face.

  He drew a long, steady breath and exhaled slowly. Then another. Just as his uncle had taught him; breathe deeply to still the mind. To refocus. To ease away the darkness in his heart. He tilted his gaze skyward, where a myriad of stars, glittered and fshed their brilliance against the vast, dark expanse.

  Zeya was gazing at the sky now as he walked beside Khin Yu, one week after the countdown. Twilight with all its charm was beginning to settle. One or two stars had already begun to show in the unclouded heavens.

  He sighed and said, “Well the date for my marriage ceremony has been set. I’ve less than two years of so-called freedom left, Khin Yu. Suppose I ought to make the most of it while I still can.”

  “Hmmm.”

  “I must admit, it sits rather oddly, you know, not knowing the person I’m meant to marry. Who is Princess Nanda, really? What are her hopes, her humour, the way she sees the world? A portrait, no matter how masterfully done, can hardly reveal the person behind the face, can it?"

  “Perhaps nearer the time Your Highness will have a chance to meet Princess Nanda in person.”

  “I do hope so,” Zeya said, trying to sound lighthearted. “The thought of her finding me utterly repulsive on our wedding day is quite enough to keep me up at night. What if we can’t understand one another because my Seghaphu is still a bit rough, and she knows none of our nguage? Quite the predicament, don’t you think?”

  “Your Highness, you need not worry. The wedding is still two years away which is more than enough time to grow familiar with such things. Understanding and ease will come, just as they always do, with patience and time.”

  “I suppose I just hope that when we finally meet, there’s something real between us. Something we can build on.”

  ***

  Zeya’s time with Sein quickly became the highlight of his week. Their meetings offered him a welcome distraction from the rigours of training and a reprieve from the weight of duty. She continued to provide concise summaries of the kingdom’s history, enabling him to prove to his Master that he was keeping up with his studies.

  “I must say, Sein, you’re making history surprisingly tolerable,” Zeya jested after Sein had recounted the story of how his grandfather became King.

  “Just tolerable?” Sein asked, her eyes twinkling with mischief.

  “Well, I’ll admit, it’s become somewhat interesting. And now, with the whole mystery of the murdered prince to unravel, I’m starting to quite enjoy it.”

  “Do you really think that writing was referring to Prince Amptu?”

  “After hearing the accounts of all the princes in history, I believe you’re absolutely right, Sein. Without a doubt, it must be Prince Amptu, whom your mysterious scroll refers to.”

  “Oh… are you telling me now you were not entirely convinced before?”

  “Well, in fact, I did rather wonder whether you might be a touch unhinged when you began going on about some ancient murder.”

  “Really! You think I am a little-“

  “No, I’m only teasing you. Promise,” Zeya said, palms up in a show of innocence. “Truly, I am quite determined to solve the mystery with you.”

  As Sein rolled up the scroll on the table, Zeya’s thoughts kept circling back to the accounts she’d told him of his grandfather. He frowned, wondering how differently things might have unfolded if his grandfather’s elder brother had lived and taken the throne. That single twist in history might have meant his father was never born and therefore he himself would not exist.

  It was strange, realising how a single life or death, could alter the course of everything. So much of life was shaped by chance, and yet here he was, bound by duty, tradition, and the weight of a title he never chose.

  “What else is on your mind?” Sein asked, studying his face with her dark eyes.

  It was intriguing that Sein noticed his mind drifting. Of course, he couldn’t possibly reveal what he was truly thinking.

  Still caught in thoughts of his great-uncle’s death, Zeya remarked, “I must say, I can understand how most of my fellow princes died in battle or due to illness, but quite a number saw their demise in hunting accidents. It seems to me, a frivolous waste of life to meet such an unfortunate end.”

  “I had no idea chasing down unsuspecting creatures and killing them was such a dangerous sport,” Sein commented, a note of contempt in her voice.

  “Well, it rather depends on what you’re after,” Zeya expined. “Take tigers or wild boars, for instance, now that’s a challenging hunt, full of potential dangers you can only imagine. Whereas going after birds or smaller game would be a safer endeavour altogether.”

  “Do you hunt?”

  “No. Fortunately, this sport has fallen out of fashion, though there are some who still pursue it. As I’m not one for chasing down tigers myself, I daresay I’m safe from adding to that particur statistic.”

  Zeya’s eyes shifted to the window as a memory surfaced. He’d been twelve when his older cousins had mocked him, calling him a ‘baby’ for not joining them on a hunt. At the time, it had stung more than he cared to admit. He’d been caught between their approval and his uncle’s expectation that he stay behind and train.

  “I’ve been thinking about how Prince Amptu might have been murdered,” Sein said, pulling Zeya back from his thoughts. “It was recorded as a natural death, which implies there were no visible injuries.”

  “Surely then, it must have been poison. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  “Totally,” Sein nodded. “It seems to me, if the killer wanted his death to look natural, you have to ask why. Clearly it was premeditated. I mean someone had to make the poison and slip it into his food or drink. It certainly wasn’t a crime of passion.”

  Zeya gazed at her, marvelling at how easily she seemed to read his mind. And now, she was quite literally saying the very words he’d just been thinking.

  “Did I say something curious or—”

  “Not at all,” Zeya quickly spoke up. “I was just thinking that very same thing, and I must say, it’s quite extraordinary to hear you say it aloud. Clearly, great minds think alike!”

  This remark earned him a dazzling smile.

  “And if it was a premeditated murder, what was the motive? Who would go to that extent to kill him?”

  “Well, I can come up with a few reasons,” Zeya put forward, eager to help Sein solve her mystery. “For starters, he defeated King Han Min. That alone probably didn’t make him terribly popur within certain quarters. I imagine there were plenty in the pace who felt the urge to avenge their fallen king.

  “Then, there’s the matter of his birth, you know, being the illegitimate son likely led some to question his rightful cim. But I grant you, it does seem intriguing that they resorted to such an underhanded method to eliminate Prince Amptu. One would think, if there were any honour among them, they'd have faced him openly, perhaps even challenged him to a proper duel, as he did with King Han Min.”

  “Perhaps the truth is not entirely straight forward. That’s why this mystery has its cws in me,” Sein confided. “I can’t seem to let it go.”

  “Then don’t let it go just yet,” Zeya recommended, grinning. “Well then, shall we continue our… hunt? I must say, I prefer this kind of hunting. Why don’t we draw up a list of suspects and examine them one by one? Who do you suppose ought to be on it?”

  “I’d suggest we start with King Han Min’s two daughters. If my father was killed by my half-uncle to take his pce, I would wish to avenge his death.”

  “Exactly, I imagine I’d feel the same. As a princess, of course, I’d hardly be doing the dirty work myself. I’d have a loyal servant carry out the deed,” Zeya said, noting how their conversation flowed naturally.

  For once he felt like a real person and not the Crown Prince. It felt good.

  “Our first two suspects are Princess Hayma and Princess Zar. How about Queen Tin? She was the one who let her half-brother duel with her husband so presumably she’s on Prince Amptu’s side. Shall we discard her from the list? What are your thoughts?”

  “You’re right, Queen Tin should be on the pro-Amptu list. One moment, we need parchment and ink to write all this down,” Sein rose from her seat, her eyes scanning the room. “There’s nothing here to write with. I’ll bring some with me next time.”

  Then she looked disappointed spotting something out of the window.

  “It seems my time with you is up.”

  Zeya quirked an eyebrow. At that moment, Khin Yu entered and bowed.

  “In that case, until next time, Lady Sein.”

  He stood, then added, “Do try not to get too far ahead in your sleuthing without me.”

  When Sein smiled at him, his thoughts stumbled over themselves.

  Wait, what was that? That wasn’t her normal smile. That one had… yers.

  As he strode away, he blinked, trying to repy the st few seconds in his mind, but all he could think was how he wished to see that smile again.

  ***

  Three months had passed since Zeya had unexpectedly come across Sein in the Archives. He had since completed his history studies with flying colours, and his Master had encouraged him to pursue further learning in culture and traditions of the Southern Delta. Zeya readily agreed. After all, it gave him a legitimate reason to continue spending time at the Archives with Sein.

  Their conversations soon branched out beyond history, touching on a wide range of topics. Sein was particurly drawn to the scrolls that chronicled the events shaping societies, cultures, and civilisations. Zeya, meanwhile, was increasingly absorbed in the study of military tactics and the sting effects of war on the kingdom.

  As it was the height of the dry season, the southern winds swept in sweltering, sticky air that clung to the skin like a second, unwelcome yer. By midday, it drove even the hardiest indoors in search of sanctuary. Shaded rooms became havens, where people drifted into afternoon naps, lulled by the bnket of heat.

  During the afternoons, the Archives, despite its lofty ceiling and wide, arched windows, was steeped in a drowsy warmth, as if the stone walls themselves exhaled the day’s heat. Though doors and shutters were flung open in defiance, the air remained heavy and unmoving, thick as treacle. Nevertheless, Sein and Zeya didn’t let anything stop their routine of gathering there.

  Zeya quietly observed Sein’s change in attire. Gone were the informal clothes from their first few meetings. Today, she wore a proper ensemble, though the suffocating heat had forced her to shed the grand outer yer: a cape of sheer organza and tulle, vishly adorned with glimmering beads, pearls, and crystals. What remained was an embroidered top paired with a long skirt, cinched neatly at the waist, creating an air of understated elegance.

  He found himself unable to look away. She was utterly captivating. Then, realising himself, he quickly turned away, hoping she hadn’t noticed.

  “What has caught your interest, Sein?” Zeya spoke up, distracting himself from thoughts he didn’t wish to entertain.

  “I’m reading about herbs. I’m a little curious as to what might have been used to poison Prince Amptu.”

  “I see you haven’t given up your hunt.”

  “I suppose I haven’t quite given up entirely.”

  “Very well, I’ll join you,” Zeya offered, setting the book aside. There was something in her determination that impressed him. “What are your thoughts? I’d like to hear them.”

  “There are many herbs that are toxic and certainly can be fatal when ingested. I was looking into one which may be a possibility. It produces shiny bck berries which are described as being sweet. The poison causes paralysis in the involuntary muscles of the body, which would certainly cause the heart to stop. Perhaps Prince Amptu was fed these berries.”

  “That does sound rather pusible, Sein,” Zeya agreed. “If only we could uncover precisely what he dined on that evening.”

  “Since we can’t exactly ask Prince Amptu what he ate, I was thinking about the writer of that message seeking help. It strikes me as someone clearly devoted to him. There’s a real sense of anguish and heartache in those words. I can't help but wonder if the writer was, in fact, his lover.”

  Zeya tilted his head, curious as to where she was leading.

  “As I recall from Spirit of War’s story, there wasn’t any mention of a dy. In fact, very little is known of Prince Amptu’s personal life. As you’re aware, he fought in several battles against insurgents in the northern nds. I did come across a passage from a General who spoke highly of Amptu’s remarkable command of combat and his strategic insight at such a young age, a testament to the respect he commanded, particurly within military circles. But it sheds no light on a potential lover. I haven’t read anything else on him.”

  “Me neither. What a shame there’s very little written about Prince Amptu,” Sein sighed, clearly disappointed.

  “Rooting around in these scrolls hasn’t revealed any great clues, has it?” Zeya said, propping his chin up with a hand.

  His mind was focused on how to find the missing information.

  “How about we step away from the Archives for a change and speak with real people,” he proposed. “Not the lords and dies, I mean the people living in the capital. There’s wisdom passed down through generations that isn’t captured in writing, and that’s where we might find the answers we seek.”

  “That’s a great idea, Zeya,” Sein said, her face lighting up. But her expression soon clouded over. “I’m not sure how we would find people that might have that knowledge to be honest. I very rarely leave the pace compound. You know, I don’t get out much. In fact I don’t know anyone on the outside apart from my retives.”

  “Leave it with me,” Zeya insisted, already forming a pn. “I’ll speak to my attendant, Saw Win. He’s very well connected with people across the capital. He may be able to suggest someone who can help us.”

  “Really? You would do that?”

  “Absolutely. I’ll have a word and report back.”

  Somehow, the thought of making Sein happy gave him a sense of purpose he’d not known before. It wasn’t the same as satisfying his father’s wishes, or pleasing his mother, or even coaxing ughter from his sister. It felt deeper than he could expin, as if the joy she gave him rose from a part of his heart he’d only just begun to uncover.