And so she doesn't stare at this Crown Prince, at this politically married husband of hers. Because this story always ends one way—whether under the purview of confused parents, the strange glances from siblings, or even the anxious mumblings of her tutors:

No drive for power.

No lust for wealth.

Nothing.

Sophia was never meant to be a Princess.

Never meant to be a ruler of Imperiums or vast stretches of earth and armies.

Sophia Elise the Eighth is a failure.

Zai Tianci, Crown Prince of the Dominion, stays still for a long time, the ebb and flow of his breath taken as he himself tries to understand those words that just came out of the Silver Demon's mouth.

There's politics in his soul and confusion in his mind, contorted on his face as he holds onto that distant shred of composure. Not laughing, not scoffing, not even questioning—just slowly breathing as he plays this game with as much seriousness as he could for these next few words.

He moves his hands away from hers, taking the minutes to slowly feel them for any marks of hidden blades, subtle poison injection sites, or even the exotic application of some mono-molecular wire.

But there's nothing, and there's no expression on that woman's face except for blushed skin, sweat, and a mess of a half-smile, half-scowl—all cringe.

The ocean sings, speaking to her. "Is that true? Is that all you want?"

She can't even vocalize the embarrassment of that extra admission, Sophia aggressively nodding hard enough that she almost passes out.

"Is that why your family sent you to the Dominion? Because of this?"

Because they wanted to get rid of you? To remove this rotten limb from the world within the silver chamber? To save their nation from a heir who couldn't even muster the strength to get out of bed before noon?

Did mother abandon you?

Sophia doesn't know the answer to that, at least, nothing beyond assumption and theory. So she states the facts, her words. "M-maybe? I don't know… probably not?"

Zai Tianci breathes again, holding air into his diaphragm before exhaling slowly; catching that last part of his breath with just a word. "Ok."

Ok.

That's it?!

That consciousness committee takes that word into analysis, leaving just one thought to come in with its tiny voice. He needs time to process this, to really understand what you just told him. So whatever you do, don't push him for an answer now, give him this space.

Sophia impulsively pushes him for an answer. "D-do you believe me?"

The Crown Prince of Tianci has no immediate answer, caught completely off guard by this. But still, he holds it together as he tries to word it in the most delicate, and honest way possible. "I-I don't… I'm not sure…"

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He can't. Her mind gives to her. If you lived in a world of thorns, would you trust the branch of an olive tree?

The question did make sense within this young woman's mangled psyche, and she shrugs a bit. Of course not.

Perhaps Sophia Elise's own goals were beyond anyone's understanding, or even belief for that matter. Behind the Silver Veil, where Princes and Princesses would wrestle over war economics, play the great houses in their sick games—could anyone believe a Princess, named after their wolves and dragon slayers, would want something as mundane as this?

Whatever the case, this was the Fourth Princess' honest answer, and she keeps digging further into this hole as she tries to bridge this conversation away from this catastrophic confession. "Zai… do you know what your mother was like?"

She quickly avoids eye contact with the bound book a few feet away, trying to bite her tongue, feeling a sudden wind cut through them both from the open window.

It's such a massive dissimilarity that this Crown Prince can't even find an answer, off-guard and forced to respond with nothing but the truth. "I-I don't know. I never knew her, she died when I was born."

Sophia Elise stops, foot already on the landmine. Oh Goddess you really screwed up there. Remember like 200 pages ago when you promised that you'd never bring this up to him? Yeah… well too late to get that back now. Full send this.

Barely listening to his reaction, the Imperial Princess just continues; drawing from that diary not even three feet away from the two. "I-I mean, do you think she would be someone you'd trust with everything? Like, everything she'd tell you you'd believe?"

"No." Zai Tianci doesn't bridge the gap, this vast gorge howling with the cold, dead wind of reality. "Sophia, in your world can you trust your mother? Your father? Even your sisters and brother?"

"Always…" The Ensolian Imperium answers the Crown Prince of the Tiancin Dominion—with a certain level of personalization. "... well, maybe except for Alice. But she still loves me, in her own way. C-can you trust yours?"

Because if there is one thing that is unbreakable, it's family.

Zai doesn't even blink. "Sophia, my father killed my aunt for the throne of the Dominion. And there's credible evidence my grandmother's stroke was from his doing. I can never trust my family."

His gaze flickers to the ring on Sophia's left ring finger and then back to her.

And you're part of his family now.

He stares into her eyes, those pale blue irises highlighted by the glow of Unudo from beyond the window. "We're going to Landfall tomorrow. You can't trust anyone there, no matter how friendly they seem at first. You're in the Dominion, and it isn't safe for you… "

Sophia scoffs, but the cold gaze of Zai doesn't even react to the attempt at lessening the import of his words. He keeps his tone level, even—three thousand years of Tianci coming in this warning to the outsider. "This nation is death. If you want to survive, you'll need every whit, every dirty tactic you have. You'll need to play the political game, Sophia. And our game, our Dominion, is cruel, evil. You'll need to be better than you've ever been, better than anyone else in the Palatial Court could ever be."

"H-how?"

And Sophia waits for his words, waits for the inevitable 'I don't know' from his lips as every single one has said before him. Those words that echo in her mind, unspoken to this child of the Silver Throne but read atop the frowns, the grimaces—be better, be smarter, play the game correctly.

But Zai takes a short breath, plucking a simple sentence from his mind with such ease that it costs this girl everything:

"Just be yourself, Sophia Elise."

The Fourth Princess gives him a blank stare, gears crushing those words for forensic analysis.

Just… be yourself?

He continues to explain himself. "You're an outsider to the Palatial Court, you'll never be one of us. But you can play that to your advantage, as long as you tread carefully—your politics, your cultural foundation and… distinctive personality could be enough to protect yourself. You just have to believe in it. Believe in yourself. And maybe you'll have a chance."

But this assurance is not enough for Sophia Elise the Eighth, and without any prior authorization some part of her brain hijacks her speech center to deliver this message straight from her soul. Cold, dead eyes speak the words of care, boundless with some unformed love and desire. "But what about you?"

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