章 7: The Stranger And Summons

Alita's POV

"Who was that?"

My mind was on the stranger I met today, when he held me I felt a thrill. It was nothing I had felt before. His red eyes, almost as dark as midnight, bore into mine with an intensity that seemed to pierce through my heart. His touch, brief as it was sent shivers down my spine, igniting a fire I had long forgotten existed.

We exchanged only a few words, yet it felt as if entire conversations passed between us. His voice was deep, tinged with an accent I couldn't place, and his smile... Oh, his smile was something I would carry with me for the rest of my days.

Nadir knocked on the door, walked into the chamber, bowed to the princess lying on the bed, and said, "The king requires your presence in his chamber, my princess."

My mind was still on my handsome stranger. I did not hear when Nadir walked in, and neither did I hear her when she spoke. It had been a while since I felt this excited, I wanted to meet him again.

Nadir sighed, 'She is lost in her thoughts again,' and bent down, tapping the princess, jolting her out of her fantasy.

I looked at her, noticing her for the first time, and said, "Nadir, you are here."

Nadir said, "I have been standing here for some time now."

I smiled and said, "I am sorry, what do you want?"

Nadir smiled and said, "A princess should not apologize for keeping her maid standing, your highness."

I giggled and said, "But this princess does."

Nadir said, "And I am proud to serve you, my princess. Even though I am curious to hear everything that happened at the square today, the king wants to have a word with you, my princess."

I sighed, knowing that duty called. My fantasy about the stranger's touch would have to wait.

I sighed; it wasn't rare for my father to demand my presence after an important event. His summons always brought a mix of anxiety and curiosity.

I stood up and said to Nadir, "Quick, help me change."

Nadir moved swiftly, her fingers nimble as she selected a formal gown from the wardrobe, a deep blue dress embroidered with silver thread. She styled my hair with practiced ease, weaving it into an intricate braid adorned with tiny pearls. As I stepped out of my room, the guards began to follow me as per tradition; a princess must not leave without protection. Their presence, though it was necessary, was a burden.

The walk to my father's chambers was familiar yet always tiring. The palace corridors were lined with paintings of my ancestors. The guards standing outside the door bowed and opened it, their faces stern and impassive. They bowed again as only I entered the room, and the heavy wooden doors closed behind me with a soft thud.

I curtsied before my father, feeling his gaze upon me. "Princess," he greeted, his voice warm yet authoritative.

A large painting of my late mother hung on the wall, her cheerful smile lighting up the room even in her absence. I inherited the shape of her face, her eyes, and her wingless form, but that was where our similarities ended. She had black hair, while mine was a shade of pink. I was told she was a tall woman, even taller than my father, and outspoken, a trait that had won my father's heart so completely that he had never considered marrying another after her death.

My father motioned for me to sit on the long cushion while he remained seated on his bed, a book in his hands. He set the book aside and asked, "How was it?"

I knew he was talking about the square, so I said, "It went well."

King Aric asked, "Were you attacked?"

I shook my head. "No." I paused, feeling a pang of emotion. "I was not attacked physically, but emotionally, and it hurt even more."

My father looked at me, a mixture of relief and concern in his eyes. "That is good. That means the people are warming up to you."

I almost laughed at the irony. Warming up to me? It was awful. If this was them warming up, I dreaded to think what true acceptance might look like. The thought of it being worse made me shiver involuntarily.

My father's eyes softened. "Alita, you must understand that change takes time."

I nodded, understanding his point but still feeling the sting of the day's events. "I know, Father. It's just… difficult."

He stood up and walked to the window, looking out over the sprawling gardens of the palace. "Your mother faced similar challenges when she first became queen. The people were wary of her at first, but her kindness and strength won them over. You have that same strength, Alita."

I looked at the painting of my mother again, feeling a mixture of pride and sorrow. "I hope I can live up to her legacy."

My father turned back to me, his expression serious. "You will, my dear. I do not doubt that. But you must also find your path, your way of connecting with our people. They need to see the real you, not just the princess."

"Father?" I spoke, my voice hesitating.

He answered with a distracted "Mmmm."

"Why send me to greet the people when you know they don't like me?" I asked, my voice trembling slightly. It was a question that had been burning inside me for a long time, and now, faced with the warmth of his rare smile, I dared to ask.

My father looked up, his eyes meeting mine with a mixture of weariness and resolve. "I am getting old, Alita," he said, the lines on his face deepening. "Believe me or not, one day I will be frail and too weak to continue ruling. The mantle of leadership will be passed on to you. So, even if the people don't like you, that is their problem. They have to accept you because you are my child and the rightful heir to the throne."

His words, though intended to be reassuring, felt like a heavy burden placed on my shoulders. I took a deep breath, trying to steady my thoughts. "Father, have you thought of remarrying? So maybe you can bear another child, one who the people might..."

My father's frown cut me off. His eyes hardened, and the warmth vanished, replaced by a cold, impenetrable mask. "You can take your leave, Alita. Good night."

With those words, I was dismissed, sent out of my father's presence. I curtsied, murmuring a quiet "Good night, Father," before turning and walking out of the chamber. The heavy doors closed behind me with finality that echoed through the corridors.

The walk back to my chambers felt longer than usual. The guards followed at a respectful distance.

Nadir was waiting for me when I returned, her concern evident as she took in my pale face and troubled expression. "My princess, what happened?"

I shook my head, not ready to talk about it. "Nothing, Nadir. Just… tired."

She didn't press further, instead guiding me to sit as she began to unfasten my gown and undo my hair.

As Nadir worked, I couldn't help but replay the conversation with my father in my mind. "Do you ever wonder," I began, my voice barely above a whisper, "what it would be like to be free from all of this? To live a life where every action isn't scrutinized, where the future isn't this uncertain?"

Nadir paused, her hands gentle as they untangled a knot in my hair. "Sometimes, my princess. But I also know that we all have our roles to play. Your role, though challenging, is one of great importance. You have the power to change lives, to shape the future of our kingdom."

I sighed, knowing she was right but still feeling doubts. "It's just… overwhelming. To think that one day, everything will rest on my shoulders."

She finished her task and moved to face me, her eyes kind and understanding. "You won't be alone, Alita. You will have advisors, friends, and perhaps, even someone special to share the burden with. Your father believes in you, and so do I."

I smiled faintly, appreciating her words even if I wasn't entirely convinced. "Thank you, Nadir. You always know what to say."

As I prepared for bed, I couldn't shake the sense of unease that had settled over me. I crawled under the covers, hoping that sleep would bring some peace from my troubled thoughts.

But sleep was far from me. My mind kept wandering back to the square, to the stranger whose eyes had seemed to see straight into my soul. 'What was his name? Where had he come from? And why had our brief encounter left such a lasting impression on me?'