The first thing Ingrid noticed when she woke up that morning was that the sky was grey.

Normally in a woodland kingdom like Adehane, most days had clear skies with the birds singing as they flew by. But this time, it was quiet and grey. The clouds formed together in a pact to hide the sun. For the first time in weeks, no birds were singing. It was as if the whole world felt just as grey as Ingrid did on the inside.

Ingrid sat up and rubbed her eyes; they felt dry and coarse from all the crying. Her whole body ached, her bones feeling much older than she was. Had she really aged this much in one night? She got up and walked towards the window, looking outside. The fields in front of her castle tower, fields that used to be full of soldiers doing their morning exercises, were empty. She couldn't even see any maids or servants walking along the hallways around the fields. The entire castle felt as if it was stuck in silence. 

As she was dressed for breakfast, Ingrid stared at herself in the looking-glass. Yesterday she looked the same way that she always did, but today she felt much older. Her eyes looked more sunken, her cheeks more pale and hollow. She could still see Isaac standing before her, not even wanting to look at her. It was as if she was just a disgusting monster not even worth looking at for a second.

A lump grew in her throat, and her mind began to race. Really, what did I expect? she thought. He would know that this was all a trick eventually even if the letter was never lost. He would hate me, maybe he never stopped hating me. Why couldn't I have just hated him forever?\

And then in her mind, the Isaac she knew she had grown to love began burning into ashes, like paper thrown into the fire. His smile that just up until recently set her heart ablaze now only made her angry. His smug smirk that began to make her feel weak now only made her feel disgusted. How could she ever be so stupid to think he was anything better than what he really was: her enemy who ordered the deaths of hundreds in a way not five years ago.

He can go to hell, she thought angrily, the sadness in her heart quickly transforming into spite. She didn't even notice that she was done being dressed until the chambermaid gently touched her shoulder. "What?!" Ingrid blurted out in an angry tone, turning to face her. The chambermaid flinched and stepped back, her eyes wide open in surprise. "Y-you are ready for breakfast now with the king, your highness," the chambermaid said in a slightly shaky voice. Ingrid looked at herself once more in the looking-glass. Her cheeks were now a little more red, her eyes less sunken. 

She had always hated him, and she will always hate him. Nothing more, nothing less. 

It was normal for King George to speak casually to his niece and son during breakfast. He would often ask them what their plans were for the day, comment on something trivial like the weather, anything really to make up for the silence caused by two teenagers hating one another.

But this morning was different. The food in front of them, already more lavish than anything anyone else in Adehane could eat for breakfast, looked dissatisfying and gray. The king twirled his silver spoon around the soup in front of him, unsure of what to say. On his left, his son stared at nothing but his plate, eating mechanically in silence. On his right his niece, who often felt and looked like a burning match constantly talking and arguing, had not touched her meal once. She merely stared at her food as if it was a foreign object, completely in silence.

King George cleared his throat as he tried to think of what to say. He was woken up a little past midnight by one of his assistants with a letter from the prince. He had asked why it could not have waited until morning, but the assistant replied that it was urgent news. 

He opened the letter and read:

Father,

I am sorry for this sudden message, but it cannot wait. I have made sure that this letter cannot be intercepted by anyone else. Princess Ingrid and her entire entourage must leave in twenty-four hours. I have received confidential news that there are Nerean spies within our midst, and they may be listening in on our plans. She must leave before anything else is disclosed to her. As soon as she leaves, we must begin to push forward with the rest of our plans. We cannot waste any more time.

Isaac.

"What is it?" his wife, the Queen, asked as soon as King George finished reading the letter. She sat up on her bed and looked at him with a concerned look. King George's mind began to race. "He claims that there are spies from Nerea, and Ingrid must leave," he said to her in a worried tone. "So soon? But what about the Blue Moon Ball?" the Queen asked him.

King George shook his head. He was now back at the table, and the silence was killing him. He knew he had to say something, even if looking at his niece only reminded him of his traitorous brother. After all, why would he ever doubt his son? Isaac had shown nothing but loyalty to him and his kingdom. 

"Have you had your chambermaids pack all of your things, Ingrid?" he finally asked her. She slowly nodded her head, looking down at her hands clasped on her lap. He saw Isaac freeze for a second from the corner of his eye, but he continued eating again like nothing happened.

"It is a shame that the Blue Moon Ball would not be able to commence. It would have been an interesting union of our kingdoms..." he began, but stopped as he noticed Ingrid's hands shake slightly in her lap. He noticed her biting her lower lip as well as if to stop herself from saying anything more.

"Well...perhaps it doesn't matter. We still enjoyed the short time you spent with us here at Adehane. Right, Isaac?" he turned to his son for confirmation, trying to put on a smile. Isaac merely looked away, his brows furrowed with anger. Outside, a clap of thunder was heard. No one noticed as a tear drop fell on Ingrid's hand. 

Ingrid stood by the entrance of the castle gates, watching in silence as soldiers and maids packed her belongings into a royal carriage. This one had already come from Nerea a few hours earlier; its Nerean sigil at the very front of it was a sharp contrast against the gray that still permeated the entire kingdom that morning. 

Isaac had not spoken to her nor looked at her that entire morning, and she was both glad that he didn't and incredibly torn up about it. She still remembered everything: the first hunt they did by the south side of the border, the tag of war games they played just weeks before, the time Annalise had visited; they were all still fresh in her mind. But now every memory with him tasted bitter in her mouth. It felt as if every second of those memories was tainted now, never to be the same. 

And how could she expect it to be any different? They had been enemies then, they're still enemies now. It's just the way it has to be. 

Stupid feelings, she thought to herself angrily. 

She had passed by the ballroom after breakfast, and noticed that the servants were already taking down decorations meant for the Blue Moon Ball. Though all servants kept a blank face whenever they worked, she could tell that they were disappointed. The Blue Moon Ball wasn't just a ball meant for royalty; the entire kingdom would have also been celebrating in their own ways. She had already heard talks of large bonfires happening all around the villages, of people baking moon pies meant only for that occasion. She had heard some chambermaids gossiping with each other, talking about getting blue dresses ready for village dances. It would have been a night of bliss and drinking, of forgetting that two kingdoms had just previously been at war.

And now it was never to happen, all thanks to her own mistake. 

Though the Adehane servants and soldiers still bowed to her out of respect, she could tell that they now looked at her the way they always should have: with hidden anger. After all, she was always their enemy. She was the warrior of Adehane, riding next to her father on a white horse with golden armor, mindlessly defeating their own people. They had every right to hate her, she hated herself enough as it is.

I won't be surprised if they're glad I'm leaving, she bitterly thought to herself. I would be happy too if I were them. Good riddance to that Nerean scum.

Still, she knew in her heart that she would have wanted the opposite to happen. But what was the point of wishful thinking now?

In the corner of her eye, she saw three chambermaids looking at her and whispering to one another. Based off of the colors of their uniforms, they were clearly chambermaids-in-training. They also looked around her age, which wasn't uncommon in Adehane. Still, she could clearly tell they were looking at her and gossiping. She felt her cheeks growing red with anger, her hands turning into fists. 

What business did they even have gossiping about her? Was she not suffering enough? She had half the mind to turn to them and ask what they were up to when the carriage driver from Nerea appeared next to her, bowing his head low. "The carriage is ready for travel, your highness," he said in a low voice. 

Ingrid sighed and nodded. There was no point trying to pick fights now. Either way, she had lost this battle, and she had to accept it. She nodded wordlessly at the driver and walked towards the carriage.

King George and Isaac watched from a window as the Nerean entourage exited the castle gates. "Are you sure now that the Nerean spies have completely left?" King George asked his son without looking at him. Isaac nodded. His face was blank, his eyes empty. "Yes, father. I've made it certain," he replied in a cold tone. 

King George allowed himself to glance at his son. He couldn't put a finger on it, but something had changed in him. He had always been cold and calculating, to the point wherein he and his wife thought that he just didn't have any human emotions. But clearly, something had happened with him and the princess. Whatever it was, though, it didn't matter now.

"Come with me to the war room," the king said, placing a hand on his son's shoulder. "We must begin planning."

"Yes father," Isaac replied, still not looking at him. Isaac watched the carriages disappear into the horizon for a while longer as his father stepped away, before turning around to follow him, his heart cold as ice.

It was clear that the people of Nerea were not warned in any way about the princess's sudden return as the royal carriage and its entourage entered through the castle gates. Even the gate's soldiers almost scrambled in surprise to let the gates down over the moat. The kingdom's people couldn't help but stare at surprise at the royal carriage heading towards the castle. 

Ingrid couldn't let herself look out the carriage window and face her people. The entire ride home she had been fighting the urge to just burst into tears out of shame. She had never lost anything this much before. She was always the winner, always the one coming home to cheers of joy and pride. Her people saw her as a victor, the crown prince in a girl's body. And now they stared at her in surprise, possibly thinking that she had messed up now. She couldn't blame them, after all. It was clear that she did. 

Her father stood by the castle entrance, watching in silence as the carriage entered. A servant opened the carriage door and held a hand out to assist her, but Ingrid ignored him and got out of the carriage as quickly as she could. She walked up to her father, still staring at the ground. Her cheeks were red due to the extreme effort of holding back her pain.

She expected a scolding, a slap on the face, anything to solidify the failure that she was. Instead, the king held her by the chin and made her look up at him.

"Are you alright, Ingrid?" he asked her in a gentle tone. Instead of anger in his face, all she saw was pity. 

That was already too much for Ingrid. She felt the walls in her heart crumble and she wrapped her arms around her father, burying her face and her cries into his chest. 

Ingrid felt almost out of place in her own room. Since when did her room in Adehane feel more like home? Here she was surrounded by all her favorite things: her bow and arrows, her favorite books on hunting and war tactics, her soft bed, her favorite fireplace...all of this felt alien to her now. 

She sat on her bed and stared at the fireplace, the events of that day still clear in her mind. Her father had brought her to the war room, a large room with a stone table at the center. On the stone table was a large map of the entire land, showing every kingdom and island. It was designed so that the mountainous areas could be touched, the stone it was carved from jutting out in sharp edges. Even the rivers and lakes were carved to be deeper into the stone in order for it to feel more realistic. It was on this table that war tactics have been planned for generations.

King Nicolas told her that the only reasoning he got on why Ingrid left so suddenly was because King George and his men had grown suspicious over Nerean activity around Midtown. He confirmed that it was because his men were trying to get more information from Midtown residents on what was happening inside the castle. It was then that Ingrid told him everything she was meant to say in the letter: about the hidden tunnel, the entrance in Midtown, and the Blue Moon Ball that was meant to be.

And now the planning for war had officially begun. All she knew as of now was that they are going to begin attacks on Adehane on the night of the supposed Blue Moon Ball. Ingrid sighed and laid down on her bed, staring at the ceiling. 

She knew that the next time she would see Isaac, it would be in battle. She felt a sting in her heart, but she closed her eyes tight and grit her teeth.

She never should have been so sentimental. All she can focus on now is how to defeat Isaac in this game once and for all.