The letter to Tauram trembled in Esmera's hand like a tower shaken by an avalanche. It wasn't too late for her to look away from that graceful font that drew her eye to it, but somehow, she couldn't.

Esmera shouldn't be reading Tauram's mail even though she had found this letter open, even though it had fallen into her lap as if inviting her to be privy to its secrets. All the same, there had to be a reason why Esmera had found it, just like there was a reason why Tauram had painted that image of a Milatanuran lark, why Esmera had come upon it when she did, why they had eventually found themselves together even when their cruel fates seemed to have separated them, sent them to different realms.

She leaned into the silk pillow pressed against her back, swallowing as she began to read.

Dearest Prince Tauram, said the first line. I am writing to you with important news regarding your betrothed. Not your current fiancée, but the girl you were originally engaged to after I predicted that she would someday be Milatanur's queen. You must remember her even though it has been many years since you would've heard her name—Esmera Finnaaz.

Even though Esmera had known she must be the woman the writer of the letter referred to, her breath still caught in surprise at seeing her name in unmistakable black ink on the parchment. Her curiosity kept her reading even as mild dread clenched her stomach.

Many, if not all of us who heard of the Finnaaz tragedy believed Esmera had died with her family. Given the destruction of the massacre, it was a valid assumption. However, I have recently received confirmation via a vision that Esmera Finnaaz is alive and in Arkōsāra, enduring unthinkable difficulties while navigating life alone as an orphan.

Tears welled in Esmera's eyes to see her struggles made so real by someone else's description of them. It had seemed like a distant part of her past, possibly a story she had heard or read, turned to a faded memory by Milatanur's vividness.

Esmera dabbed at her eyes with her satin sleeve and looked at the date of the letter. It was written 10 years ago. She had been thirteen then, and although her life had been difficult at the time, she had yet to see the worst of it. Had the writer of this letter known that too or was it a secret Esmera could keep to herself?

If everything that has come to pass was destined—including your parents' tragic demise and the storm about to befall your kingdom—I believe that Esmera, as your destined wife, is your only hope of preserving your life and your throne. The only help I can offer you in the challenging times to come is to go to Arkōsāra and find the last Finnaaz. She may yet be too young for marriage, but if you bring her back to Milatanur and keep her safe until she is of age, both of you together can save the kingdom from its foretold destruction.

Best,

Salmee

Head Psychic at the Guild of Prophecy-Bearers

Esmera went numb as her eyes reached the end of the letter. She went cold even though the bright rays of the morning sun kissed her feet where they peeked out of the pillow fort, even though her plate of dosa warmed her lap. She slipped under the primrose-embroidered covers, taking care not to jostle the plates of dosa, and reread the letter to make sure her eyes weren't deceiving her.

There was no denying it.

This was a plea written to Tauram ten years ago, urging him to find Esmera in Arkōsāra when he had told her he had no idea she was alive and in trouble, that she had to fight for survival and endure a violent marriage.

Esmera scanned the parchment and even turned it over, searching for something she had missed, maybe a postscript that warned Tauram of some danger awaiting him in Arkōsāra or discouraged him from seeking her. Anything to explain why he hadn't searched for her as he claimed he would've had he had any reason to believe she was alive.

There was nothing, just Esmera's sinking realisation that Tauram had played her like a fool since the day they met, and she had been so blinded by his charm, his beauty, his humour, that she had let him.

His shirt had been one of Esmera's favourite things to wear since this morning, but now it scratched at her skin. She slipped her robe off her shoulders and arms so she could yank it off. She threw it aside. She didn't see where it landed because her head spun, and her eyes prickled as though he had driven needles into them. He may as well have.

Esmera's mouth quivered. Surely there had to be some reason Tauram hadn't come searching for her. Surely he couldn't have looked her in the eye last night and told her how awful he felt for leaving her to suffer alone. Surely he couldn't have loved her as he did if he didn't mean it or if he was guilty.

He may be annoying, but he was a good man. She had seen him cry over his mistakes and all the lives he had unknowingly ruined with decisions he had made with the best intentions. She had seen him make the effort to take care of her the way he had promised.

All the same, was a few days enough to make an accurate judgment of someone's character?

Esmera's mouth went dry. Maybe Tauram had genuinely not known about her until they met almost a week ago...but she couldn't look past the falseness of her hope. After all, she had seen for herself how letters in Milatanur worked.

Esmera looked at the seal on the envelope. It was orange, embossed with an eye that resembled the all-seeing nature of the Guild of Prophecy-Bearers. Starting at the pupil, an indentation dripped down to the edge of the seal. She knew Tauram's hands well enough to know that his thumb would fit perfectly into it. He was the only one who could've opened this letter, read it, and shoved it behind the bookshelf as if its contents didn't matter.

His footsteps headed Esmera's way, soft like a clouded leopard padding over the wooden floors. She slid the letter back behind the bookshelf, wishing that she could remove it from her mind as easily.

Tauram set the tray with the teacups, butter and the jar of honey at their feet before crawling into the pillow fort, smiling when his eyes fell on Esmera. Something surged in her chest, something so warm and comforting, so unfamiliar and addictive that she had to stop herself from smiling back. She wanted everything to go back to how it had been before, but she couldn't pretend she didn't know about the letter, about what it said, what it meant.

Tauram settled beside Esmera. His company had felt so easy before, but now, Esmera couldn't endure it knowing that he had abandoned her in Arkōsāra.

Tauram's shoulder had barely touched Esmera's before she started forward, trickling honey over her crepe mindlessly just to distract herself, just to prolong the moment until she would return to his side and have to pretend that everything between them was okay. That she wasn't crumbling for the second time in two months.

She took a sip of the spicy tea, and it stung the back of her throat, sending her eyes watering. The dosa scratched at her palate as she pinched off one syrupy piece at a time. She had been starving mere moments ago, but now, her appetite had disappeared somewhere into the abyss of devastation that was slowly widening inside her.

Esmera had been lied to again, lured into the arms of someone who didn't care about her. She thought she had learned her lesson about falling in love too fast with Stephan, but she hadn't. It was her fault for thinking that things would be different with Tauram, that fate had her best interests in mind when it chose that her heart would belong to him, but it didn't. It never had.

It had condemned her to be alone and unlovable, to have her shelters ripped away from around her so the weather could batter her.

Esmera had nibbled half of her dosa in silence when Tauram finally spoke.

"You're quiet." He nudged her.

Her desperate self wanted nothing more than to sink into his warm side and beg him to tell her that this was a misunderstanding, but her anger took the reins, and she remained stiff and upright despite his inviting touch.

"Are you okay?" A furrow formed between Tauram's eyebrows as he studied Esmera.

She avoided looking at his face because she knew that turning to him would decimate her resolution. This was what he did to her, even in a fluffy, ridiculous duckling robe. No matter it had been so easy for him to lie to her, for her to believe him when he said what she wanted to hear.

Not anymore. Now, she wanted the truth, and she would get it. No more pretending just to keep the peace. No more lying just to avoid difficult conversations. All that had ever done was get Esmera into trouble.

"Esmera?" Tauram was taking her hand into his, but she shook him off, instead snatching the letter from behind the bookshelf and dropping it on his lap.

"I found this." Esmera glared not at Tauram but into the morning and the mountains beyond the conservatory's windows that didn't deserve it. "And I read it."

Tauram picked the letter up. Mindlessly sucking at his beautiful, honey-sticky fingertips in a way that made Esmera more flustered than she cared to admit, he frowned down at the envelope as he turned it over. "What's this?"

"A letter to you from ten years ago." Esmera kept her eyes on her mournful, half-finished breakfast, pinching the edge of her dosa between her finger and thumbnail.

She should eat more. She wanted to because she needed her strength to face Ruagu today, but somehow she couldn't take another bite. What was the point when her food would only stick in her throat?

"And you read it?" Tauram's gaze on Esmera burned her cheeks even as his voice tightened. He turned the letter over in his hands.

"It was open." Esmera's gaze shifted to her knee, dressed in shining turquoise satin that only seemed to mock her previous night's mistake. "I couldn't help myself."

She wished she had. She should've because then she and Tauram would be as they used to be, but what was the point of that if it wasn't real? The harsh truth was better than a beautiful lie.

"Esmera..." Alarm flashed on Tauram's face, constricted his voice. "I was a different man ten years ago. I was engaged to Ghallia. I was still the Crown Prince. I don't know what this letter says, but I swear that—"

"How can you not know what it says when you must've been the one who opened it?" Esmera brought her eyes to him then. Accusation sharpened her gaze even though she wanted to tone it down. She wanted to give Tauram the chance to explain himself, but at the same time, she wasn't the idiot she had been last night or even earlier this week.

"I've never seen this letter in my entire life." Tauram frowned down at the writing on the envelope, his eyes as confused as if he was looking at the name of some unknown person rather than his own.

Esmera's mouth hardened. "Can you be sure of that before you've even opened it to read what it says?" Her question came out pricklier than she intended with the anger and hurt and heartbreak she tried to contain.

Esmera knew nothing other than bottling up her emotions, and forging on, appearing stronger than she felt, but her lid could only contain so much.

Tauram gazed at her for a moment. Then his jaw tightened, and he unfolded the letter, releasing a breath as he started to read.