The golden spires of the Kingdom of Tikka shimmered under the midday sun, casting a brilliant glow that masked the rot festering within its walls. Inside the Great Hall, the air was thick with tension and the low, anxious murmurs of men.
"As we are all aware, the King has been bedridden for a year now, struck by an ailment for which we have no cure. Our greatest healers have tried and failed," Animus, the King's right-hand man, announced to the assembled council.
His voice was steady, projecting a calm that didn't quite reach his cold eyes.
"Rest assured, we are doing everything in our power to maintain His Majesty's condition."
"Then why are we forbidden from seeing him?" Lot interjected, his voice booming with frustration. "You see him whenever you wish. Would it not be better to appoint one of the kingdom's councillors to represent the King until he recovers, or until the Princess reaches the age to rule?"
"What did you just say?" Animus asked, his cold eyes snapping toward Lot with a piercing intensity.
Lot continued, undeterred. "The kingdom has fallen into ruin since his illness began! The late Queen left no son, only a daughter far too young to wear the crown. Every day, the people of Tikka dwindle; our granaries are empty. Our trade with Valorian has been severed for reasons no one will explain. This madness must end, Animus, or we shall all perish!"
Animus remained unruffled. "I am well aware of our struggles, Lot. But you are the wise men of this realm—men of years and experience. What is it you propose?"
Lot struck the heavy table with his palm. "I believe I speak for everyone when I say we must strike a deal with the Darians. We have an abundance of iron, limestone, and gold ,all of which they lack. It is a fair trade, and it is our only hope."
Animus scanned the room. "Who else favors a pact with the people of Daria?"
Silence swallowed the chamber. No one dared to meet his gaze.
"Very well," Animus said, turning to leave. "Draft the letter. I doubt they will accept, but it is a gesture, at least. This meeting is adjourned."
As the councillors filed out, Animus paused, a malicious glint dancing in his eyes. He leaned against the wall, where a disembodied, rasping voice reached his ear: "Find the Second Book of Tova... faster."
[Meanwhile, within the palace...]
"Princess Charlotte? Where have you hidden yourself? We are no longer playing hide and seek!" Aurelia, the Princess's personal maid, called out. Her voice echoed through the marble corridors as she searched for the young heir. "It is time for your bath!"
THE TIKKA MARKET
"Get out of here, you filthy cur!" a fruit merchant roared, lunging at a hungry child who had lingered too long near his stall. "This isn't a gallery! If you have no coin, move along!"
The market was a cacophony of desperate trade and bustling crowds. Suddenly, a cry pierced the air: "Thief!"
A young boy bolted through the crowd, nearly bowling over a small figure draped in a nondescript black robe. He didn't stop to apologize, disappearing into the shadows of a crumbling tenement. The man he had robbed gave chase but quickly lost him in the labyrinth of the slums.
The girl in the black robe picked herself up. Instead of continuing on her way, she followed the boy's trail, slipping quietly through a jagged doorway. Inside, the light was dim and the air smelled of damp stone. The boy was carefully tearing a single loaf of bread, handing pieces to a group of huddling, hollow-eyed children. One of them, a girl named Sarah who looked as frail as glass, tried to smile but was seized by a violent cough. Blood speckled her lips. The boy knelt instantly, wiping her face with his tattered sleeve, his eyes full of a quiet, desperate love.
The girl stood her ground, her voice ringing out with an authority that seemed too large for her small frame.
"Hey, thief!" she shouted. Her eyes were silver-white, shimmering with a prism-like refraction as they narrowed. "You ran past me and knocked me to the ground without so much as an apology! Besides... didn't your parents ever teach you that stealing is wrong?"
As she spoke, she reached up and pulled back the hood of her dark cloak. As the fabric fell away, her striking white hair seemed to catch what little light remained in the room, shimmering like spun silver. A single, long white strip of hair fell elegantly past her shoulder, marking her with a beauty that was both rare and unmistakably noble.
The boy's face hardened. "Stealing? Parents?" He stepped toward her, his eyes scanning the fine fabric of her robe and the glint of gold beneath it. "You have no idea, do you? You look like someone who's never missed a meal. You have a big house, a soft bed, and people who actually give a damn about you."
His voice trembled with a sudden, sharp bitterness. "I had that once. My parents were honest people. They were framed for a crime they never committed, and I watched them get dragged away. I watched them die." He gestured to the ruins around them. "I thought the capital would be different. But it's worse. The rich hide behind their golden walls while we rot. Children vanish here. They're sold like cattle, and no one cares. You're invisible once you're poor."
"They step on you just to climb higher," he continued, his voice dropping to a low hiss. "The royals take everything and laugh while we starve. They are the real thieves. Have you ever been so hungry you felt like you were fading out of existence? Like you were becoming a ghost?"
He pointed to the girl in the corner, tears finally breaking through. "Sarah might die today, and there is nothing I can do. So don't stand there and judge me!"
Charlotte looked around the dim room, her gaze falling upon the other children huddled in the shadows. But it was Sarah who made her heart stop. The girl looked as though the very life had been sucked out of her; her skin was sallow, her breathing shallow and ragged. It looked as if her soul was being drained by the weight of her illness.
The Princess remained silent, her heart,once shielded by the high walls of her station felt a sudden, sharp pang of raw grief.
In that silence, memories of her past life flooded back: the bitter sting of her failures and the cold, quiet arrival of her first death. Then came the transition, the rebirth into this world of Dio and Eno. She remembered the moment she was born to the Queen of Tikka, a fleeting second when she possessed the Sovereign Six Eyes. She had no idea what they meant or what they were for, but she remembered the overwhelming power of that vision.
I was given a second chance for a reason, she thought, tears pricking her brown eyes. I won't let Tikka fall. I will fight for equality, for justice... I just need time.
"I'm sorry for what you've endured," she said softly, her voice trembling. Before he could protest, she reached into her robe, unclasped her heavy gold jewelry, and held it out to him.
"I can't take that," Zack said, recoiling as if the gold burned. "That's... that's too much. These are our problems, not yours. We don't need charity from people like you."
"It's really no trouble at all," she insisted, stepping forward and firmly pressing the cold metal into his calloused, dirty hands. "I have more than enough. Use it to buy medicine, real medicine for Sarah."
Zack stared down at the gold, then back up at the girl with the silver-white hair. His defensive wall finally crumbled, his shoulders dropping. "What's your name?"
Charlotte hesitated. If she spoke her true title, the weight of the crown would crash down between them and ruin this moment of connection. "My name isn't important," she whispered. "Tell me yours instead."
"...Zack," he replied, his voice barely audible.
She gave a small, sad nod and turned away. She ran back toward the golden palace, wiping at the tears that fell freely now, her heart heavy with the secrets of two lifetimes.
TIKKA PALACE
"Search every inch of the grounds!" Animus bellowed, his voice echoing through the golden halls. "Princess Charlotte is only twelve ,she couldn't have gone far! You incompetent fools, how did she slip past you?"
While the guards scrambled, Charlotte was already safe. She had returned through the secret passage behind her bookshelf, bathed, and changed into her royal silks as if she had never left. Aurelia was waiting for her, arms crossed.
"Where have you been, Princess? You know it's dangerous beyond the gates."
Charlotte looked at her maid—at her flowing brown hair and the quiet strength in her hazel eyes. Aurelia was more than a servant; she was the only family Charlotte felt she had left.
"I'm sorry, Aurelia," Charlotte murmured.
As they walked toward the study for her lessons in magic and diplomacy, Charlotte's mind wasn't on her books. She thought of Zack, Sarah and the "real thieves" in the high towers. She was destined to be Queen, but after today, she knew that a crown wouldn't be enough to save Tikka. She would have to change the world.