The faint hues of the setting sun could be seen from where she stood on her room's balcony overlooking the lush garden, there was no garden five years ago. Her mother had thought it impractical, and since the former queen was sick and confined, it became her mother's responsibility to manage the king's household, that including the garden, or the non-existence of it.

Tinges of pink and orange intertwined in the sky, in a way bearing the same colour as her dress, she wrinkled her nose in distaste, though not so much as earlier. Perhaps, she had gotten accustomed to the dress after having worn it for several hours.

Perhaps also, it was due to the lightness of her heart, no longer did nervousness of the meeting reside there, instead she felt relief, gratitude, doubt and a tad bit of confusion.

"Princess Sara... Um, your highness?" a pause. "I'm sorry, I'm not exactly sure what to call you."

She turned at the silvery voice, that came out of the petite woman —the reason for her confusion— with blonde hair, thin lips and piercing green eyes, the kind you could never forget. Her curvaceous figure compensated for her stout height. She was richly dressed in red silk, her hair adorned with ornaments that told her position in court. Her slender hands held a bundle of clothes, Sara guessed was meant for her.

The woman cleared her throat and Sara realized she had been staring for too long, she looked up expecting to see annoyance, instead a serene smile was etched on the woman's face. Sara had to admit she was beautiful.

"Sara is fine." she said in answer to her earlier words.

"Okay Sara." the woman whose name she didn't know replied, her smile unwavering. "I have asked the maids to draw your bath. And I brought new clothes."

With that, she left the balcony back to the room, Sara followed behind after taking a last view at the sunset.

Her room was the same as it was five years ago, the bed was still in the same position, the peach painted wall and the green tapestry that hung on them were also unchanged. The sofas and vanity were no different. But the one thing that had stunned her was the neatness of the room. Unoccupied as it was for five years, she had expected layers upon layers of dust.

Focusing her eyes back on the woman, she saw her directing some maids as they walked about her room.

She then turned to Sara, "Your bath will soon be ready." she gestured to the three maids with bowed heads, "they will help you get dressed. Once you are done, dinner will be served in the dining hall."

"You are the king's mistress." Sara said.

The woman smirked, as Sara fixed her stare on her. They both ignored the gasps of the maids.

"Mistress?" she chuckled lightly. "If we're to go by titles, royal concubine is the word. Though I'd prefer you call me Ingrid."

Ahhh, so Ingrid is her name.

"How long have you—"

"A little after you left Silva. The king sought solace and I offered it." Ingrid interrupted with a shrug. "I must say Sara, I have never seen the king as happy as he is now, in the five years I've known him. I heard a lot about you, after all you were all he could talk about."

"Even in his anger." she whispered but was heard by the woman.

"Yes, yes. I'm sure it wasn't easy losing your mother to the grasp of death. I would know, I too lost my mother when I was about your age, but I never would have found the courage you had to live in seclusion."

Sara opened her mouth to reply but Ingrid put her hand up, then walked closer to her, the expression on her face turned ominous. Bringing down her voice to a whisper, she said, "You're a rare gem Sara, and like one you should have remained hidden."

A bright smile replaced the look, and she left the room, with Sara frozen in shock.

*'*'*'*'**'
Sara walked down the empty hallway of the west wing, echoes followed her with every step she took. Dressed in blue and her hair tied up to a bun after having taken a proper bath, she felt relaxed for the first time since coming back to Silva. And lighter. She didn't hold the king's anger as she had thought, and she had reunited with her cousins, though one hated her, which she was sure would be short lived. All she needed to do was prove the royal family wasn't involved and find her mother's killer.

"Sara, never trust the moments you feel relaxed, an attack is waiting silently."

Sara suddenly stopped walking, her mother's words ringing in her ears, the words she had spoken during a training session.

"Your relaxed mind is only an illusion, a deadly illusion."

Sara wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling empty. It was then she realized what part of the west wing she was standing. She turned to see the oak door to her mother's room, it stood strongly, taunting her. Her breath began to come out in short gasps, her eyes becoming wet with unshed tears.

She could faintly hear the maid behind calling out and telling her she would be late for dinner, but she couldn't move her legs, her eyes remained on the door as she tried hard not to think of that night —why was she in Silva again?— oh yes, to find her mother's killer, something she was too much of a coward to do five years ago. She had thought she was more mature now, that grief would no longer cloud her reasoning and she could now find answers to the questions that plagued her mind every night. But it seemed she was wrong as she always was.

"You can go, I'll take care of her." she heard a voice say, it sounded familiar but she couldn't tell who it belonged to.

There was a brief argument, then retreating footsteps. Whoever the new person was, snapped their fingers in front of her face, she blinked, then turned to see the impatient face of Astrid.

Her surprise at seeing Astrid immediately washed of her depressing thoughts. "How are you here?"

Astrid gave a sly smile, "I have my ways." she gestured to the maids uniform she had on. Sara briefly wondered how easy it was to sneak into the palace.

Then dragging her into a corner, Astrid gave her an eager look.

"You've been wondering about the meeting right?" Sara asked.

"Of course I have." Astrid replied with an eye roll. "What was the king's reaction?"

Sara sighed, she was already late for dinner but she knew Astrid wouldn't let it go, so she began to recount the details.

Sara walked into the great hall with careful steps, she was alone now and couldn't hide behind anybody. Alexander and Astrid had gone back, apparently, meeting the king was her own cross to carry without any aid.

The opulent room had a soothing ambience perhaps due to the intricate marble walls, the room was filled with jewels and silk giving it the most palatial look. The floor had an intricate drawing of Silva's surrounding forest, it reminded her of the many walks she had taken outside her cottage and the crunch of leaves underneath her boots.  A throne like chair with green edges faced her at the top of the small stairs, which stood at the head of the other smaller chairs in the room.

Standing in the middle, Sara felt small compared to the greatness of the room. A door at the the other side opened revealing a shabby looking crown prince, with paint stains splattered over his shirt. The prince's eyes moved over the room till they settled on her, then a surprised and painful look washed over his face.

"Richard." she whispered.

Crossing the distance between them in fast strides, he pulled Sara into a warm embrace forgetting about the stains on his shirt. Sara held on tightly as though she was clinging to her lifeline, she had unconsciously closed her eyes, relishing in the warmth and smell of paint of her second cousin. So when she finally opened her eyes, she was met with the passive stare of the king, she wondered if she should curtsy or bow or how does one greet a relative —who happens to be royalty—after five years.

The crown prince let go of her taking his warmth along, she put her eyes down expecting an angry tirade, scolding or punishment, anything, but definitely not the bone crushing hug that came from the king. Sara didn't realize how tensed she was till he spoke.

"Welcome home, my child, welcome home." he said in his gruff voice.

Her shoulders sagged with relief, "I thought you would be upset." she said quietly.

The king let go of her, his eyes searching her face, "Upset? You should be the one upset. I wanted to send troops to find you." he sighed out, then looked back at the second prince, who had arrived shortly after the king with a passive look, "Damien stopped me, he said you needed time to grieve."

She looked at said Damien but he wouldn't meet her eyes. Unlike Richard, he was richly dressed in a royal suit and his boots neatly polished, Sara though didn't fail to notice the faint blood stains on his wrists. She turned back to the king to see a huge smile on his face, she smiled in return taking his hands in hers.

"I missed you uncle and I do not hate you." she chuckled, "at least not anymore." she no longer blamed him for his inability to find her mother's killer, that blame solely lied on the brotherhood. A passing thought crossed her mind, that she was a hypocrite for putting blame on others, when she did nothing but run away.

Richard swung his arms over her shoulders, "We all missed you Sara, it's so good to have you back." he said in his crown prince and older cousin voice.

"I would say I was pleased to see you, but I have taken an oath against lies." those were the only words Damien spoke before he went out of the room.

Sara felt her heart sink.

"He was the most affected by your departure. Do not worry, he won't be angry for long." said Richard.

She only nodded, the king was then called away, and Richard offered to walk her to her room promising to call someone to help her get settled in.

"What happened to the drama?" Astrid cried out.

"There was no drama, Astrid. I have to go to dinner now." Sara replied as she walked away from the west wing. Sara heard her mumble incomprehensibly, she would probably go back the way she came.

Sara got to the dining hall to see only Richard seated at the long and massive table, patiently waiting for her, the king and Damien were absent. He had cleaned up nicely, wearing a simple tunic.

She sat across him —bothered by the lonely atmosphere that hovered over the table— as the maids started to serve their meal. She wondered what the king and second prince were up to.

"Damien is not in the palace, apparently he has gone on one of his hunting trips." Richard stated as though he knew the question on her mind, "As for father, he has gotten quite busy recently."

Sara already had an inkling as to what the king was busy with, then Richard brought his voice down to a whisper, "I'm not sure if you've heard of the serial murders."

"Serial murders?" Sara asked, feigning ignorance.

"For the past three months, a murderer has been on the loose, killing random people from both the upper and lower regions. There has been no clue whatsoever as to who this person is or what he wants." he continued, twirling his spoon around the bowl of soup.

"What's going to happen now?"

"Silva is hosting a ball, nobles and dignitaries from neighbouring kingdoms were invited, most of them are already in the palace. The king and I believe strengthening our relationship with those kingdoms would put up a strong front against this unknown culprit. And hopefully it would prevent any sort of riot from the people."

Sara then remembered the fancy carriages she had seen entering Silva on the day of her arrival, as she had guessed, they were nobles from other kingdoms.

"But, is a ball really going to help in any way?" she didn't think it would.

"We're grasping through straws here Sara, and I must admit the king and I are lost on what to do. And Damien's solutions are.... unconventional, you know how brutal he is." he sighed, his face taking a downcast look. Sara did know how brutal Damien was. Looking back up at her, he continued. "we're incompetent, aren't we?"

Sara reached out to squeeze his hand that rested on the table, "Don't say that, I'm sure you're trying your best."

Prince Richard gave a small smile, squeezing her hands back. "I'm really glad you're back Sara, though I wish it were at a better and peaceful time." 

Sara didn't reply, instead she began to eat, Richard following suit. She also wished that they met again at a better time, where her family wasn't a murder suspect and she didn't have to choose between a secret guild and her family.

The rest of the dinner passed by slowly with idle talks and reminiscing. Neither the king nor Damien showed up, and at the end of the dinner, while the maids cleared the table, they both took a midnight stroll on the palace grounds after which Richard walked her to her room.

"Have a goodnight Richard." she whispered quietly, though he tried to hide it, Sara saw how pressured and tired he was. Her heart broke for the burdens put on his shoulders.

"Sleep well Sara." With a last smile, he retreated into the dimly lit hallway.

Sara opened the door and walked past the small sitting room to her bedroom. Removing her clothes quickly and putting on a night dress she found lying on the bed, she dragged her tired legs to her bed, falling asleep almost immediately.

Perhaps, if she had bothered to look out of the balcony towards the garden, she would have seen the figure crouching under the moonlight.