After the ceremony, a grand night banquet began. The people in the lower regions were happy, sharing food and drinks, enjoying the beautiful night under the stars.

The upper regions weren’t as loud. The people there were wealthy and sophisticated, their appearances well-groomed and elegant.

Then there was the royal region, where I stayed next to my father. It was like a dream.

Beautifully plated food, music playing in the background, laughter and joy filled the air. I always stayed on my mother’s lap while she helped me with my food, feeding me bite after bite.

What caught my attention next were the men in the crowd, staring at the beautiful women who were dancing. I didn’t understand why they were staring so much. It was just a girl dancing.

But my mother didn’t like it. She shielded my view and brought the next bite of food to my mouth, which I eagerly accepted.

Soon, I began to feel sleepy and let out a big yawn. My mother stood and hugged me tightly, then carried me to a giant bed. She laid me down gently and patted my head until I drifted to sleep.

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The next day was like any other. My mother did her usual things, and I finally got to see my father again. But he was always different—distant, because of his high responsibilities.

As time passed, I grew taller, my hair became messier, and I started speaking more easily. By the time I was eight years old, I was eating on my own and learning new things.

I was always studying with someone new, a person who was hard to call by name, so I just referred to him as Dim. He taught me numbers, how to speak, and other things in a fun way.

He wasn’t strict, so I learned the basics quickly.

One day, I walked to the balcony, the place where I’d been raised. I climbed up on a chair to look out over the kingdom. My kingdom.

I understood more now. Soon, I would become the king and rule over all of it. But I also realized that it wasn’t as peaceful as it looked. Dim never gave me the full details, though.

At this age, my days felt repetitive. I studied, played alone or with my mother, and had fun with the guards, joking with them by trying to lift their heavy armor. And, of course, I ate a lot!

But that night, I heard something strange. A sound. My mother’s voice? It wasn’t a scream, but something different, more muffled and soft.

Curious, I walked quietly toward their bedroom door. It had heavy curtains around the bed, so I couldn’t see anything clearly. But I could make out their black silhouettes through the fabric, moving together in an odd way.

The sounds, though, were unmistakable. Low, rhythmic, and… something I couldn’t quite understand.

I froze for a moment, watching the shadows, hearing the noises, but I didn’t dare go any closer. I quickly backed away, closing the door behind me. The sounds continued for a little while, then faded away, leaving only silence.