Chapter 3: A Close Encounter

The newcomer's rhythmic footsteps came to a halt and the door swung open. Irene's heart was in her throat as she pressed her palm harshly against her quivering mouth. Please don't notice me, please don't notice me, please don't notice me…

"Oh Aqua, I'm so late," the newcomer cursed beneath his breath, his boots echoed loudly in the tunnel as he made a run for the shut gate. Once he passed her, Irene took the chance to peek out of her cloak, her lone eye watched as the man…

… pulled the door open.

He did not linger a moment more, leaving Irene alone in the tunnel again.

Irene never wanted to cry more than that moment, she'd been trying to push the door the entire time, and she never thought of trying to pull it. All the hurt she'd been through was all for nought. Fate took one look at her predicament and threw her head back with a thunderous laugh. Irene pulled her cloak downwards, part of her opted to just sit here and let the shadow swallow her whole.

However, Irene wasn't one to sit still. After two breaths of silence, she got to her feet. Her golden lashes were wet from frustration. Although most children her age seemed to be into adventures, they didn't seem all that nice, but it's good that way. She didn't want to be an adventurer anyway.

Irene stomped towards the door, her petite figure seemed to boil with a considerable amount of rage. She squared her shoulders and stared at the handle of the door. It was still too short for her height to properly pull, but the handle was curved like the handle of a mug. She stood on her tippy toes, her shoulder twinged in pain as she raised a bit of the cloak over her head.

Then, she tried to pull the tip of the cloak that peeked out of the other side of the handle. Once her left hand had enough material to grab on comfortably, she tugged on the cloak and fed more of the cloak through it. Soon enough, she's made a makeshift rope with her cloak that would give her more leverage.

"Alright," Irene said, her morale raised ever so slightly as she stood flat on the ground again. "Just one strong pull."

Then, with all her might, she pulled the cloak.

Like before, the door opened without a sound. The light from the outside blinded her momentarily. She blinked the pain away as she tried to readjust her eyes to daylight. From the little opening, she saw a grass path that led to a clearing. There was no one there.

Irene gave her cloak one firm tug and ran through the small opening before the doors crushed her. Sweat was dripping down her neck, her hair was dishevelled and her hands had a coat of grey dust over them. She looked like she'd just been tossed around in a garbage bin.

Although she was within the palace grounds, she appeared to be in some sort of garden. The man who was late was nowhere to be found, perhaps he rushed off somewhere.

The body of the palace was largely obstructed by tall, looming trees that were a mixture of flaming orange and green. Still, Irene was a little bummed that she couldn't immediately admire the beauty of the palace. The midday sun filtered through the trees as she strolled further into the forest.

She tried to walk silently at first, but every single step had dried leaves crunching beneath her feet. She gave up fast and opted to look around, her ears were highly alert for anyone who might see her and give her a chase. She's never been to the palace before, she doesn't know how strict the rules would be, but she imagined that it would be rather strict. Her heart was hammering in her chest, so she divided her attention to the tree branches above.

Sometimes the sun blinded her, but there were other little things to pay attention to. There were critters in the trees, squirrels ran across the branches like they were streets for children to play tag on. When her heart had quieted down, she heard the chirping of birds that no doubt nested in one of these trees. For a moment, Irene was at peace.

Then suddenly, she spotted a figure among the trees. Irene gave a yelp of surprise and stopped in her tracks. The panic came flooding back like a tidal wave as she braced herself for a reprimand from the adult stranger. Seconds passed, but the figure did not yell or turn away, in fact, it didn't move at all.

Irene pursed her lips, she couldn't just wait here for the stranger to come over and punish her himself, could she?

Instead, she genuinely tried to sneak over by avoiding stepping on leaves, which was harder than it sounds because it was the beginning of autumn. Irene was exhausted by the time she was only a tree away from the figure, so she leaned against the bark of the tree whilst standing on its roots. Her breaths came in puffs as she mentally patted herself on the back for succeeding, the stranger did not notice her approaching.

Her golden head popped out from behind the tree to observe the stranger who remained utterly silent.

"Oh, it's a statue."

The stranger that she had been afraid of being scolded from, was made of stone. His sculpted face was stern and was free of his hair that had been braided to curl at his shoulders. His right arm was over his left chest like he was swearing a vow from his parted mouth. Irene couldn't recognize him, but luckily, there was a plaque at the bottom of the statue.

The plaque wrote,

"King All-Yagnin, the 47th ruler of Daijaya, pledging at his coronation.

-- Sculptor Safor."

Irene read. Yes, she recognizes his name. King All-Yagnin was the 47th ruler, so he's the great grandfather of the current king. Her sharp brows knitted together in confusion.

"He doesn't look old," certainly not old enough to be someone's great grandfather, Irene thought. Perhaps this was done when the king was young because he looked no older than her own father.

"You there," A voice other than her own spoke, "What are you doing here?"

In the face of an actual emergency, all of Irene's pent-up adrenaline reacted in one rush. She barely looked back and started running past the statue at a full sprint.

"Hey!" The voice yelled, it sounded like an angry yell.

Irene dodged past trees and roots beneath her feet like an agile gazelle, but she hadn't the foggiest idea where she was running to. Fortunately, there was no one chasing after her. Then, she ended up hearing more voices.

"… were you? Do you know how much trouble you were in?" a gruff voice said.

Irene's legs that were sprinting came to a force stop, she nearly tripped over her own foot in a fit of clumsiness. The voices luckily paid no mind to her as she scurried behind a bush to hide away from their gazes.

"Sorry, sir," It was the voice of the man in the tunnel, "I lost track of time and-"

"That is no excuse! Keith, I know you meant well. I'm sure your mother appreciated your visit, but you must understand, the palace is in chaos and we need every single man at guard at all times," The stern voice chewed Keith out mercilessly.

"I understand, sorry sir," Keith apologized profusely.

"I want no more repeats of this matter. Your future leaves must be approved by me, otherwise, you can't leave this palace at your own discretion. Am I clear?"

"Yes sir."

"You are dismissed. Seek Vice-Captain Laurens, he will see to your punishment."

"Yes sir," came Keith's diminished, meek reply.

Then, Keith was gone, his footsteps faded until even Irene's sharp ears couldn't hear him anymore.

"Who are you?" A fierce soldier suddenly towered over her just as she wanted to make her escape.

Irene locked eyes with the man, and her jaw dropped. The soldier looked as he sounded. He had a stoic face with a crooked nose and a shadow of a moustache above his lip. His hair was neatly cut to fit a soldier's standard hairstyle as if it was just trimmed this morning. He wore a domineering glare that made his teal eyes all the more terrifying, Irene felt like a cracked egg on a sizzling pan waiting to be cooked. His armour made his broad shoulders bigger; the size of his arm could squeeze Irene's whole head.

"… in this palace."

Irene was sure he'd just asked her a question, but the way he worded it felt more like a statement than a polite inquiry. She also didn't catch the rest of his statement. Her throat was dry as she swallowed, she waited anxiously for him to repeat the question. His mouth opened, Irene braced herself for a loud admonishing yell when suddenly,

"She's mine, Kolfor."

It was the person from earlier!