5 years later...

"Why are you up at this hour, Raven?"

Marianna stands alone in the kitchen. Even though her clothes are jet black, I can see small dark stains on the fabric. It is not very difficult to guess the nature of it.

"I couldn't go back to sleep," I whisper.

The woman puts her giant sword on the table and covers it with a blanket. The wood protests against the weight as she walks swiftly towards me.

"Did you have a nightmare?" she asks anxiously.

She gently cups my cheek. I close my eyes, feeling her scent tickling my nose. She smells of fresh night air and woods. Her scarred hands are perfectly clean. The evidence of the acts she committed are nowhere to be found.

I nod weakly, "Where is..."

"Your dad still has some work to do," she interrupts me, kissing my forehead.

I've never addressed them as dad or mom. At first, they tried to coax those words from me before noticing my strange mutism.

"Do you want to talk about it?" she asks softly.

I shake my head. Since my rebirth, frequent nightmares about my death haunt me. At first, I used to scream and tremble like a madwoman. But slowly, I became used to it. Cold sweats and a racing heart are the only reactions those dreams can get from me.

It is another kind of dream that makes me cry and stay awake: the good ones. The beautiful memories of my previous life. The sun-bathed faces of my loved ones. Their sweet, honeyed smiles. Their gentle, kind words. Their loving warmth. Then everything is taken away from me. I am alone in the dark. I run and run, but I am alone in the infinite darkness of the world.

"You know you can talk to me, right?"

Marianna raises her hands to pat my head, before stopping midway and retracting it.

"If you are not going back to sleep, how about you come with me to the village. I need to buy some fruits. I can buy you some amdelheunin."

My eyes sparkle at the mention of this little outing. During those five years, I familiarized myself with the strange culture of Esmeray to the point where I learned to love it. But what makes me jump with excitement are the amdelheunin. Those little pastries filled with mashed nuts-usually almonds-mixed with honey wrapped in extremely thin, crusty dough.

Marianna's eyes glint with a strange expression as she chuckles at my excitement.

"Come on, go change, we are going to leave in ten minutes."

I run quickly upstairs without noticing the sadness in her eyes.

I softly open the door and grab the first tunic that falls on my head. It is made of loose green lightweight fabric with silver patterns.

Even though Marianna and Frederick earn a very comfortable living, it is nothing in comparison to the luxury I bathed in for seventeen years. Still, I strangely enjoy the familiar creaks on the pavement, or the oasis surrounding our house.

After putting the tunic on, I run downstairs. Marianna is waiting for me in a pair of new clothes. Her hair is tied up in a high ponytail, the strands falling gently on her bare collarbone, partially covered with a warm brown leather suit. Her weapons are nowhere to be found.

"Let's go then," she smiles, opening the front door.

The sun is slowly rising in the burnt orange morning sky. The people are still sleeping, except for a rare few roaming the streets. Seeing their red-shot eyes and slightly open mouths, it isn't difficult to guess that they never went home.

But as we walk through the sandy streets, the white stone houses disappear to make way for the market. Under rich colorful canopies, spices, weapons, jewels, and many more lie on wooden shelves.

The loud chatter and the sound of rattling sand make me uneasy. Everyone is so big and strong compared to my weak body. I grab Marianna's hand.

She turns her head, surprised by the touch. But soon after, she gently squeezes my finger and leads me through the crowd.

We first stop in front of the spice tent. Behind the counter, an old woman with dark skin and cold blue eyes stares at us with a tightened jaw.

"Good morning," greets Marianna, "could we have 300 grams of saffron, 250 grams of pepper, 200 grams of cinnamon, and 400 grams of chilies."

Her voice is soothing, and her eyes bright, as if she doesn't notice the hostility of the merchant. But her tense shoulders make me realize she is perfectly aware of it.

The old woman stares at us with the same disgusted look before asking, "That will be 3 gold. The payment is in advance."

"Saryha, I know the prices, you just tripled it," she responds dryly.

"The price went up these days."

"That is not what the paper says," she replies, pointing at the prices listed on the wall. "So I would like to pay the correct price."

Her voice lowers, and her eyes shoot daggers at the old woman.

"This is the price for the inhabitants of Esmeray, not for strangers."

Everything happens very quickly. A dagger appears in her hand and finds itself an inch away from the merchant's wrinkly hand. I wince, looking at the sharpness of the blade. Immediately, I put my hand on my neck.

"You just lost a customer," growls Marianna.

I look at her, astonished. She looks back at me and grabs my arm, "Let's go somewhere else, Raven."

I follow her, trying to keep up with her quick pace. Around us, compassionate gazes, along with cold ones, follow us.

It is true that you could guess that Marianna and I are not complete natives. Our light skin tone clashes against their golden-brown one.

"Why is the woman saying this?" I whisper, pulling her pant leg.

Seeing my panting breath, she stops to let me rest. She kneels to the ground to adjust the loose ribbon tying my red hair into a braid.

"The King died a week ago," she responds as her fingers fidget with my locks.

I raise my eyes and observe her with suspicion.

"Did you kill him?"

Her hands stop as she widens her emerald eyes. Then she starts to laugh loudly. Her voice echoes in the morning sky. I blush with embarrassment.

I look at her as she trembles, holding her waist. She wipes her moist eyes and responds, "Oh no, Raven! I didn't. You shouldn't ask those kinds of things out loud!"

"Oh-I-I."

"People suspect the ruler of another country."

She smiles and kisses my forehead, "But I am proud to see that you hold so much esteem for your mother."

Something tingles in my heart in front of her loving words and caring acts.

The rest of the outing happens smoothly. We occasionally receive dirty looks, but no one dares to express their anger out loud.

But as Marianna is busy looking at the different flowers of the merchant, I catch glimpses of conversations from a small gathering.

Their fit clothes and the color of it- the color of the sand- tell that they are hunters. They are all sitting around a pint of beer in their hand and bloody weapons in the other.

"The nerve of those Svenjas!"

My heart skips a beat hearing the familiar words on unknown lips.

"Organizing a wedding a week after the murder of our King, they are shameless!"

"A murder that they probably organized!" adds an angry voice.

'People suspect the ruler of another country.'

Marianna's voice rings in my ears like a bell. The ruler who ordered the murder of the King of Esmeray is my father.

I stop to breathe. My father. A familiar word for a familiar person. But it doesn't seem to suit him anymore.

"Since the new Queen ascended the throne, the diplomatic relationships between our country became sour," the woman marks a pause and wears a disgusted face before continuing. "The most disturbing fact is that the new King of Svenja is the previous fiancé of the Queen's sister: Aideen."