As Nahra and Maya walked through the bustling streets toward the palace, Nahra began to speak, her voice soft yet filled with the emotions still lingering from her morning. “Maya, I… I told him,” she said, her gaze drifting down to the cobblestone path before her. “I told Malin how I feel.”

Maya’s eyes widened slightly, glancing over at her friend. “You actually told him? The baker boy?”

“Yes,” Nahra replied, a bittersweet smile touching her lips. “I couldn’t hold it in any longer. It was our last moment together, Maya… I had to tell him.”

Maya raised an eyebrow, a hint of a smirk playing on her face. “And? How did he take it?”

Nahra let out a soft laugh, though it was tinged with sadness. “He… he said he loves me too. I think he’s loved me for as long as I’ve known him. But we both knew that it couldn’t last.” Her voice wavered as she spoke, the reality of their parting settling heavily over her.

Maya shook her head, her tone somewhere between sympathy and a playful scolding. “Princess, you’re too good for this world. Falling in love with a commoner, a baker no less… Your father would have a fit.”

“I know,” Nahra sighed, her shoulders sagging slightly. “But there’s something about Malin. He sees me, the real me, not the princess or the heir to the throne. Just… Nahra.”

Maya placed a comforting hand on her shoulder as they continued walking. “I get it,” she said, her voice softening. “Everyone deserves to feel seen, especially you. But you know the path that’s laid out for you. We can’t rewrite it just because we want to.”

“I know,” Nahra whispered, her voice barely audible. “I just wish things could be different.”

They fell silent for a few moments, the weight of their conversation hanging between them. As they neared the palace, Nahra adjusted her posture, slipping back into the composure required of her station.

Maya watched her, her expression thoughtful. Then, as they reached the palace gates, she stopped, her gaze turning serious. “Princess, would it be alright if I took a moment before we enter the grounds? There’s… something I need to check on.”

Nahra looked at her, surprised. “Check on something? Is everything alright?”

Maya offered a reassuring smile, though there was something enigmatic in her eyes. “Yes, everything’s fine. I just need a minute. I’ll join you shortly.”

Nahra gave her a curious look but nodded. “Alright, Maya. Don’t take too long.”

As Maya turned and walked back down the path, Nahra watched her for a moment, wondering about her friend’s unusual behavior. But she shrugged it off, assuming Maya was just being her usual unpredictable self.

With a final deep breath, Nahra stepped forward into the palace grounds, her heart still heavy from the morning, but her face composed, ready to face the world she was destined to lead.

Maya slipped into a quiet, dimly lit side street, her sharp eyes scanning the shadows. She barely had to wait a moment before a figure stepped out, as if appearing from thin air. Malin met her gaze with a slight smirk, his arms crossed, his stance relaxed.

“Wondered how long it would take for you to notice me,” he said casually, his voice carrying a touch of playful arrogance.

Maya raised an eyebrow, her lips curving into a confident smile. “Please, I knew you were there the whole time. I’m just surprised you even know I exist, baker boy.” Her eyes gleamed with amusement. “Not many can sense me when I’m in the shadows.”

Malin shrugged, unfazed. “What can I say? I’m perceptive. And besides, you’re hard to miss, even when you think you’re invisible.” His tone was easygoing, but his eyes held a glint of determination that she hadn’t seen in him before.

She gave him an appraising look, folding her arms across her chest. “Alright, Malin. I’ll bite. Why are you following us?”

He took a deep breath, his expression shifting to something more serious. “I need to get into the palace. I have to speak with the Sultan.”

Maya let out a short laugh, disbelief clear in her eyes. “You want to force a visit with the Sultan? You do realize that’s a quick way to end up in a grave, right? Or worse, locked up in the dungeons.”

Malin met her gaze steadily, his voice firm. “I have a plan. You just have to trust me.”

“Trust you?” She looked him up and down, skepticism clear on her face. “Look, I don’t know what’s going through your head, but you’re talking about something that borders on lunacy. Nahra’s my responsibility, and if her favorite baker boy gets himself executed, I don’t want her blaming me for it.”

Malin’s expression softened, and he took a small step closer, his tone almost pleading. “Please, Maya. I need your help. This is… this is something I have to do.”

Maya sighed, glancing from him to the towering palace looming in the distance, then back at him. She narrowed her eyes, her expression thoughtful before finally smirking. “Fine, I’ll help you. But on one condition—free bread. Whenever I want, no questions asked.”

Malin chuckled, his grin returning. “Deal. You’ll have more bread than you know what to do with.”

She held up a finger, her expression serious once more. “I’ll only get you through the gates, though. Once we’re in, you’re on your own.”

He nodded, his face a mixture of relief and determination. “That’s all I’m asking.”

“Alright, then.” She straightened, looking him up and down. “From now on, until we’re inside, you’re an apprentice baker, one of the palace staff. Act the part, and maybe, just maybe, we’ll get you in without anyone asking questions.”

Malin nodded, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “An apprentice baker it is.”

With a final glance toward the palace, Maya turned on her heel, leading the way back toward the grand gates, her steps quick and purposeful. Malin followed close behind, his heart pounding with anticipation and a spark of hope that, against all odds, he might actually make this impossible dream a reality.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

As they approached the palace gates, Malin tried his best to fall into the role of a humble apprentice baker, keeping his head low and his posture respectful. Beside him, Maya straightened up, her expression shifting to one of casual confidence as she walked with purpose. The palace guard at the entrance eyed them with suspicion, his gaze lingering on Malin for a moment too long.

“Halt,” the guard ordered, stepping forward. “Who’s this with you, Maya?”

Maya flashed him a charming smile, tilting her head just enough for her dark, silky hair to fall over one shoulder. “Oh, just one of the new hires,” she said breezily, giving Malin a quick, dismissive glance. “They’re short-staffed in the kitchens today, and I figured I’d help them out. You know how the royal staff can get worked up over a few missing hands.”

The guard’s gaze lingered on her, his eyes trailing over her figure as she subtly leaned forward, just enough to make the faintest implication. His stern expression softened, though he still looked skeptical. “Really?” he muttered, his voice wavering slightly. “Why bring him through the main gate?”

Maya gave him a small, teasing smirk, her eyes glinting with playful mischief. “Because, darling, if he went around to the service entrance, he’d miss out on the royal treatment, wouldn’t he? Besides, don’t you trust me?” She tilted her head, her expression innocent, her voice low and inviting. “I’ve brought plenty of people in without a problem. You wouldn’t deny me, would you?”

The guard cleared his throat, clearly taken off guard. “Well… no, of course not, Maya. If you vouch for him, then… I suppose there’s no harm in it.”

She placed a delicate hand on his shoulder, her smile widening as she leaned in closer. “That’s more like it. I knew you’d understand.” She pulled back, casting him one last wink before gesturing for Malin to follow her through the gates.

The guard nodded, stepping aside to let them pass, his gaze lingering on Maya for a moment longer than was necessary. Once they were through the gate and out of earshot, Maya glanced at Malin, her expression shifting back to one of amused exasperation.

“Alright,” she whispered, her voice firm but with a hint of a smirk. “You’re on your own now, baker boy. Good luck, and try not to get yourself caught.”

Malin met her gaze, gratitude shining in his eyes. “Thank you, Maya. I owe you one.”

She rolled her eyes, giving him a light shove. “Just make sure Nahra doesn’t have to mourn over your sorry corpse, got it?”

He grinned, his confidence returning as he nodded. “Got it.”

With a final nod, Maya turned and disappeared back toward the entrance, leaving Malin alone in the grand courtyard of the palace. He took a deep breath, steeling himself as he looked around, trying to take in his surroundings. The courtyard was sprawling and meticulously kept, with carefully trimmed hedges, fountains that sparkled in the sunlight, and marble statues that loomed over him like silent watchers.

Malin kept his head down, doing his best to blend in as he moved toward the main doors of the palace. His heart hammered in his chest, but he forced himself to focus, knowing he had to find the Sultan—and quickly. Each step brought him closer to his goal, and though he knew the risks, the determination in his heart burned brighter than his fear.

As Malin approached the entrance to the main palace, he felt a surge of hope mingled with nerves, his mind filled with the weight of his mission. But his path was quickly blocked by a stern-faced guard who eyed him with suspicion. “Hold it there,” the guard barked, his voice gruff and unyielding. “You can’t enter without certification.”

Malin felt a wave of frustration wash over him as he forced himself to nod respectfully and step back. He walked away from the guarded doors, his mind racing with thoughts. Great, he thought, so close, and now this. He couldn’t afford to turn back, not when he’d come this far. He took a steadying breath, glancing around, trying to think of a way to bypass this obstacle. The Sultan was just beyond these walls, and Malin knew that somehow, he had to make this happen. Failure simply wasn’t an option.

Think, Malin, he told himself. There has to be a way. His gaze shifted around the palace grounds, seeking anything he could use to his advantage. Then he noticed a narrow side passage leading around the main building. With one last glance toward the guarded door, he slipped down the passage, moving quietly as he searched for another way in.

The corridor led him to a secluded area where he spotted a small ledge just within reach. His pulse quickened with both anxiety and excitement. If I can reach that… maybe I can find another way inside. Without hesitating, he leaped up, grabbing the ledge with both hands and pulling himself up with a determined grunt. His fingers scraped against the rough stone, but he held tight, maneuvering along the ledge until he found an open window.

Good. Keep moving, he thought, hoisting himself inside with as much grace as he could muster. Once within the palace walls, Malin’s mind kicked into high gear. He knew that every step would count, every second precious. He moved through the corridors carefully, sticking to the shadows, his ears pricked for any sound of approaching footsteps. The stakes had never felt higher, and he could feel his heart pounding, his nerves taut as he tried to keep his breathing steady.

Just get to the Sultan, he reminded himself. That’s all you have to do. One step at a time.

He slipped behind a decorative column as two servants passed by, carrying trays of polished silverware. He watched them carefully, making sure they hadn’t seen him before moving again. His mind was a whirlwind of calculations, his eyes darting around, trying to plan his next moves even as he navigated the twisting hallways.

Each time he spotted a guard or a servant, he felt a pang of tension, forcing himself to duck into nearby doorways or hide behind heavy curtains, his breath caught in his throat. He wondered if he was being reckless, or if he truly was as invisible as he hoped. Is this how Nahra feels all the time, having to hide herself in plain sight? The thought of her strengthened his resolve, reminding him why he was doing this, and pushing him to press forward.

But soon, he reached a point where the path ahead seemed hopelessly blocked. A row of guards stood near a grand stairway that he needed to access. He felt his heart sink as he considered his options. So close, he thought in frustration. After all this, am I going to get stuck here?

Just as he was beginning to doubt himself, a subtle movement caught his eye—a sleek black cat with glowing yellow eyes appeared, perched silently in the shadows. He blinked, wondering if he was hallucinating, but there it was, staring directly at him. For a brief moment, he felt as though it was assessing him, deciding if he was worth its time. The cat’s gaze was intense, almost unnerving, as if it understood far more than it should.

Then, with a graceful motion, the cat stretched its wings—dark, shadowy appendages that seemed more like ethereal wisps than feathers. It looked back at him, a silent invitation to follow. He hesitated, but something about the creature’s presence felt both calming and compelling, as if this was a sign he was meant to follow. Well, this day couldn’t get any stranger, he thought wryly, his curiosity and desperation pushing him to obey.

The cat led him through a maze of corridors, its movements swift and purposeful. Malin trailed behind, amazed at how effortlessly the cat navigated the palace, pausing every so often to glance back and ensure he was keeping up. Whenever they encountered a guard, the cat would flatten itself against the wall, slipping into the shadows as though it were part of them. Malin mirrored its actions, holding his breath, his heart pounding as he hid in the shadows, trusting the cat to know the way.

As they moved deeper into the palace, Malin couldn’t help but wonder, What are you, really? Why are you helping me? But the cat remained silent, it's only answer was the gentle, silent guidance it offered with each step.

Finally, after what felt like an eternity of sneaking through hallways and dodging guards, they arrived at a set of grand double doors—the entrance to the throne room. Malin felt a shiver of awe and trepidation, realising that he had made it, against all odds. He glanced down to thank the cat, but before he could say anything, it met his gaze one last time, its golden eyes shining with a strange wisdom, and then, as if it were a mere shadow, it melted away into the darkness, leaving him alone.

Malin stood there, his heart pounding with anticipation, awe, and fear. The Son was right. I made it. He took a deep, steadying breath, squaring his shoulders as he faced the towering doors before him. Beyond those doors awaited his fate, his chance to change everything.

This is it, he thought, bracing himself. Whatever happens now, I’m ready.