Chapter 4 Her voice

The East Corridor – Moments Later

The long glass corridor connecting the council chamber to the royal wing shimmered beneath the morning sun. Outside, fountains whispered across pale marble courtyards, their reflections rippling on the walls like moving silk.

Kamil walked beside the Queen Mother, his pace unhurried, his expression unreadable.

"You've grown into your voice," Samitra said at last, tone soft. "You command the room like your father once did."

Kamil's lips curved faintly. "You make it sound like a weapon." "In this palace," she replied smoothly, "it is."

Two guards bowed deeply as they passed. When they were alone again, Samitra's gaze shifted ahead. "The council respects you, but they still see a boy who spent too long abroad. Today helped. Still, power fades when it isn't anchored."

Kamil glanced sideways. "Anchored how?" Her answer was calmed. "Through alliance. Blood keeps a throne alive, but alliances keep it standing."

Kamil's voice dropped slightly. "You mean marriage." Samitra didn't flinch. "The royal family of Nalal arrives within the week. Jodha will be with them."

"She's grown," Samitra continued, her tone deceptively gentle. "Educated. Poised. The people of Nalal adore her. You two were promised long before you understood what it meant." Kamil's jaw tightened. "And now that I do, I know promises can bind more than they build." Samitra stopped walking, her silk hem brushing the polished floor. "You think love will rule a kingdom?"

He faced her fully, calm but certain. "No. But neither will duty alone." Then Samitra lifted her hand, resting it lightly on his shoulder, her rings catching the light."Be careful, Kamil," she murmured. "The crown doesn't forgive softness."

His eyes held hers . "Neither does the heart."

She said nothing more. But when she turned away, her reflection in the glass lingered .

SCHOOL AFTERNOON.

Milan walked briskly down the street with Hiba beside her, the sun low and warm in the morning sky.

"Finally!" Hiba teased. "I thought you'd sleep through the morning again."

"I didn't want to," Milan murmured. "It's quieter this way - before everyone notices me."

Hiba glanced back. "Not everyone notices. Just people with... crowns."

Milan laughed softly, humming a private tune under her breath, the melody only for her.

"Where are Mikel and Mabel?" Hiba asked.

"They left me behind," Milan said quietly. "Mikel refused, and Mabel... she couldn't exactly complain."

Hiba snorted. "Figures. Twins always find a way."

School passed in the usual blur of lessons and chatter. By the time the final bell rang, Milan and Hiba were walking home together.

"Almost there," Hiba said, glancing toward her own street. "I'll see you later, okay?"

"Thanks for walking with me," Milan said softly.

Hiba grinned. "Don't let Amy ruin your day before I get home." She waved and turned down a side street, leaving Milan to continue alone. Back at her house, Milan entered the quiet hall. Amy was already there, folding clothes, eyes cold as ever."Milan!" Amy snapped. "Take these to your father at the palace. He was supposed to come by this month, but apparently he's too busy."

Milan froze, hands tightening around the bundle. "Now?"

"Yes. Now," Amy said sharply. The twins lounged nearby - Mabel muttering under her breath, "At least someone's useful," while Mikel scowled in silence.

"I'll be back soon," Milan said softly, tucking the clothes under her arm. She stepped into the streets again, city noise rolling softly around her. Cars hummed, people moved lazily in the golden light, and she hummed her secret tune.

The trip to the palace didn't take long because she had passed through short-cuts. The palace gates opened before her like a dream. Golden sunlight spilled over white marble floors, fountains danced in delicate arcs, and the scent of fresh blooms clung to the air.

Milan froze, eyes wide, heart hammering.

"I wish... even if it's in the dream", she whispered.

Her fingers tightened on the bundle of clothes. The polished floors reflected her tentative steps, the tall chandeliers scattering prisms across the hall.

She hummed softly as she hopped and checked around.

🎶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.

Somewhere in the garden, Kamil had stepped away from the endless meetings. Preparations for the princess's visit, discussions about protocol.

Then he heard it.

A voice or perhaps "the voice ."

He froze, scanning the courtyards. Nothing but the girl moving gracefully through the marble corridors. The notes floated around her, fading, teasing, lingering.

"Who... is she?" he murmured.

The song ended as she passed a fountain, unaware of him, unaware that her melody had reached him. Kamil stayed rooted in the shadowed greenery, letting the memory of the voice anchor itself in his mind. Milan stopped near the east courtyard, shifting the bundle of folded uniforms in her arms.

Her father's station was somewhere in the lower kitchens, and even though she had been here a few times, the palace still felt like another world.

A guard passed by and gave her a polite nod. She smiled shyly in return, clutching the clothes tighter as she walked deeper in. Every corridor whispered wealth. The air smelled faintly of jasmine and sandalwood, the kind of scent that didn't belong in ordinary homes.

She wanted to linger.

To touch the silk drapes, to run her fingers over the cool marble railings. But Amy's voice rang in her memory-Don't dawdle. Drop it off and come home.

She took a breath and hurried on.

From the garden archway, Kamil watched her pass. The girl moved like she didn't belong here but still carried herself with quiet grace. Her humming still lingered faintly in his head, haunting in the best way.

He didn't recognize her. She wasn't one of the palace workers he saw every day. Maybe a servant's daughter. Maybe a visitor. He couldn't tell, but he found himself... curious.

The door to the lower kitchen swung open, and she disappeared inside.

Kamil stayed where he was, his hands buried in his pockets, gaze fixed on the spot she had just left. Then, somewhere behind, his aide's voice broke through.

"Your Highness, the Queen Mother requests your presence in the grand hall."

He blinked once, straightened his collar, and turned away.

"Tell her I'm on my way."

But as he walked back, the melody refused to leave his mind.

Chef Hussein stood at the far counter, his sleeves rolled up, knife in hand as he chopped herbs with the precision of someone who'd done it for decades."Papa," Milan called softly.

He turned - and the exhaustion on his face melted instantly.

"Milan?"

He wiped his hands quickly and came around the table, his broad frame nearly knocking into a young apprentice carrying a tray.

"What are you doing here, my star?"

She smiled, lifting the bundle in her arms. "Mama said you forgot your clothes again."

He laughed, low and warm. "Ah, that woman would remind me even in my sleep." Then his eyes softened. "How are you, hm? Still behaving?"

Milan nodded quickly. "Yes, Papa."

"Eating well?"

A small hesitation. "Sometimes."

He frowned slightly, brushing a curl away from her cheek. "You're getting thinner, Milan.

You're supposed to be growing, not fading."

"I'm fine," she murmured. "School's been busy."

He sighed and turned, setting the folded clothes aside. "You always say that. You work too

hard. You need to laugh more, sing more-"

Her breath caught.

The word sing hung between them like a forbidden thing. Chef Hussein's smile faltered. "Ah," he said softly. "She still forbids it?"

Milan's silence was answer enough.

Before he could say more, one of the maids peeked in through the side door. "Chef Hussein!

The Queen Mother requested the evening menu."

He nodded, his eyes lingering on his daughter. "I'll come right away."Turning back to Milan, he lowered his voice. "Go home before it gets dark, alright? And... if you must sing, do it where no one can hear. For now."

She nodded, blinking fast to hold back the sting in her eyes.

"Good girl," he whispered, kissing the top of her head.

The sounds of the kitchen faded behind her as she walked out , replaced by the distant hum of guards and maids moving about. Just beyond the courtyard, Kamil stood at the grand balcony, unaware that the girl disappearing through the servants' path was the same voice that had stilled his world the night before.