The room is silent.
No servant dares move. Even the guards standing at the edges of the throne room seem to be holding their breath.
Beside me, I can feel the tension swell like a storm. Cassian hasn't said a word since we entered. His grip on my hand tightens, and there's a faint tremble in his fingers. My own knees feel like sand.
Time feels frozen as both royal parties face each other—us on one end… them on the other.
King Halrion sits still as stone, his expression unreadable as his gaze sweeps over us. Then finally, after what feels like an eternity, his deep, gravel-toned voice slices through the silence.
"Welcome to my palace, Prince Cassian and Princess Celeste of Matica," he says from his high-backed throne. "Please… take your seats."
Cassian exhales slowly. I lead us forward, my chin high, heart racing. We take our place on the chairs prepared for us, facing the Aerithian royals directly. There's a long table between us, but it feels like it could barely contain the ocean of questions swelling beneath our silence.
The man, Cassian's look alike steps forward slightly. His voice is confident, warm yet eerily familiar.
"Welcome to our humble home," he says with a composed smile. "I am Crown Prince Gregory Halrion, and this…" he gestures to the young woman beside him, "...is my sister, Princess Christie Halrion."
Her name rings in my ears like a bell tolling from a distant tower.
Christie.
The girl from the record.
The girl born the same day Cassian and I were.
The girl who looks just like me.
Christie meets my eyes, her gaze searching. She holds herself together well, but I see the faintest tremble at the edges.
We shake hands; formally and cordially. But nothing can hide the shock in our eyes.
It's like the universe is forcing us to stare directly into ourselves.
Cassian looks like he might faint. I reach under the table and squeeze his hand, grounding him and reminding him to breathe.
Then I rise and bow slightly toward King Halrion.
"Your Majesty," I say clearly, "thank you for receiving us with such honour and grace. The matter that brings us to Aerithia is… delicate. It concerns identity, legacy… and truth. We only ask that you grant us a patient audience and allow us to speak before your court, when the time is right."
The King studies me quietly, his expression softening. Then he nods.
"You will have it, Princess Celeste." he says with a kind gesture. "But for now, let us receive you properly. You've traveled far, and this palace prides itself on never offering answers on an empty stomach."
A ripple of laughter echoes from the court. The tension thins, just barely. But his words are generous, and we're grateful.
We're escorted from the throne room to a grand dining hall, all silver and sapphire. The place gleams like moonlight spilled over water. The tables are heavy with Aerithian delicacies; roasted meats glistening with spice, golden fruits, and wines as dark as rubies. The court follows in elegant ceremony, servants pulling out our chairs as we take our seats.
Lord Darian and Lady Anara arrive soon after, carrying our gifts in ornate chests. I see them both freeze just for a second when they spot Gregory and Christie. The resemblance is too obvious, too sharp. But they recover quickly and take their seats with grace.
Soft melodies float through the air with flutes and zithers. Dancers swirl slowly across the polished floors, every step precise and beautiful.
But none of it distracts Cassian.
He leans toward me, voice barely a whisper. "I don't see my mother anywhere."
His tone is tight, controlled but I feel the unease pulsing under it.
I place my hand gently over his. "Stay calm," I whisper back. "We're not leaving without answers."
He nods once, but his eyes never leave the royal siblings especially Christie. I can feel something shifting inside him. I feel it inside me, too.
The reception stretches late into the evening, but its warmth lingers like perfume in the air. After a cascade of polite goodnights, Cassian and I are finally escorted to our royal quarters made of lush, velvet-draped, gilded with golden trims. Everything in Aerithia is impossibly grand.
Our envoys are well accommodated, too. The Aerithians have shown nothing but courtesy and grace, even though they still don't know the full reason for our visit.
The heavy doors close behind us. The guards retreat. And silence finally returns.
Cassian throws himself onto the bed with a dramatic sigh, arms spread wide. "That was… surreal."
I laugh softly, sitting beside him as I remove my earrings. "You mean the food? Or the fact that we just stared at two people who look exactly like us?"
He groans into the pillow. "Both."
We sit in silence for a while, letting the weight of the day settle. Then he rolls over, a grin tugging at his lips. "Okay, tell me the truth, Celeste… how long did it take before you started crushing on Prince Gregory?"
I gasp, smacking him lightly with a pillow. "Excuse me? If we're confessing crushes, I should be worried about the way you looked at Princess Christie. You kept blinking like a starstruck schoolboy."
He places a hand on his chest, mocking offense. "I was shocked! That resemblance—it was jarring. But between you and me…" He leans in, lowering his voice. "I think I might be falling for her."
I roll my eyes. "Then I'm glad I'm falling for Gregory. I mean, did you hear that voice? Like yours but posher."
We both laugh, long and hard. The tension finally cracks, giving way to something light and playful. For a few precious moments, it feels like the world is normal again.
But as the laughter fades, something else rises. A quiet, lingering thought.
"They act like us," I say softly.
Cassian turns to me, his smile fading. "Gregory and Christie?"
I nod slowly. "Didn't you notice? The way he looks at her when she speaks. The way she touches his sleeve when she laughs."
He exhales. "I noticed. It wasn't how siblings usually behave. It was… tender. Intimate."
"Like lovers," I whisper.
Silence falls between us again. We both stare up at the carved ceiling, thoughts swirling.
"What if… they already know they're not really siblings?" Cassian whispers.
I turn to him, my breath catching. "Christie was the one who was swapped, which means… She and Gregory aren't related by blood."
"Exactly," he says, almost in awe. "What if they've known all along? What if they've been living that secret—quietly, in plain sight?"
My thoughts race. It would explain so much. The subtle gestures. The way they orbit each other.
"It's not just affection," I murmur. "It's something forbidden. Something hidden."
Cassian turns toward me, cups my cheek gently. His thumb brushes my skin.
"Whatever happens tomorrow," he says, "we face it together. Promise me."
I lean into his touch. "Always."
That night, sleep comes slowly. Cassian relaxes more than I've seen in weeks. We lie side by side, sharing our fears and our dreams like we used to, before everything became complicated.
And as the pale dawn of Aerithia seeps through the lace curtains, I know…
Tomorrow will change everything.
And we're ready.