Cold Hearts In Love.

"You should tread more cautiously, Princess Sapphire," Zayd murmured, his voice low and measured as he steadied her by the arm.

Sapphire's cheeks warmed, though she swiftly composed herself.

"Thank you, Zayd," she said curtly, though her gaze lingered on his, betraying a fleeting unease.

Zayd inclined his head, a faintly amused smile tugging at his lips.

"The honor is mine, Your Highness." He began to turn away.

"Wait," Sapphire called softly, her voice halting his steps.

He turned back, his expression calm but questioning. Sapphire hesitated, her thoughts drifting against her will to her cousin, Charlotte—the very person she had sought to expunge from her mind.

After a moment's pause, she raised her gaze to meet his.

"May I pose a question to you?"

"Of course, Your Highness," he said, his tone courteous, his posture unwavering.

Her brow furrowed slightly, and she spoke at last. "If one has been gravely wronged by another who neither seeks forgiveness nor feels remorse, is forgiveness still just?"

Zayd's reply came without hesitation, his voice firm yet tempered.

"No."

Sapphire drew back, her surprise evident.

"No?"

He inclined his head slightly. "Why should you grant forgiveness when they have shown neither regret nor sought to make amends? Furthermore, you are not prepared to forgive, are you?" 

Her brow furrowed, and she took a step back.

"How could you possibly know that?" 

A faint, knowing smile played upon his lips.

"Because if you were, Princess, you would not trouble yourself with the question at all." 

His words struck her like a tolling bell, reverberating in the silence that followed. Sapphire frowned, her gaze lowering as her thoughts turned inward.

Zayd continued, his tone calm yet deliberate. "I believe you should harbor disdain for this person and remove yourself from their shadow, at least until forgiveness no longer escapes you.

Pay no mind to those who insist you must always be the 'better person.' You owe forgiveness to no one." 

Sapphire regarded him in silence, her mind spinning with his words. This was not the answer she had anticipated, yet it felt uncannily like the one she needed to hear. 

"Thank you for you advice, Zayd," she murmured, her voice softened with sincerity. 

His polite smile deepened ever so slightly.

"I am pleased to be of help, Princess Sapphire." He inclined his head once more before turning to leave. 

Yet, as he took a step, he paused and glanced back, his expression unreadable. 

"That you would ask me such a question tells me this matter weighs heavily upon your heart. While forgiveness is totally your choice, I ask you this—can you live with the burden that comes along with not forgiving?Can you deal with the bitterness? Anger? And how long would you be able to endure before the weight grows unbearable?" 

His parting words hung in the air as he gave a slight bow and departed, leaving Sapphire rooted to the spot, staring after him. Her lips parted as if to speak, but no words came. Instead, she watched him disappear down the corridor, her chest tightening. 

 ~

Aurora and Esmerelda sat together in Aurora's bedchamber, their conversation light as they caught up on recent events.

"Pray, do not tell me you hold affection for him," Aurora exclaimed, her voice a mixture of surprise and delight.

Emma flushed deeply, her eyes darting away. "I shall not deny it," she murmured, her voice scarcely above a whisper.

Aurora gasped, clasping her hands together in excitement.

"Then you must pursue him! He is noble in spirit, and I cannot recall a time when he was anything but kind."

Their discourse shifted as Emma recounted her recent tribulations with Zayd, detailing the delays in their journey after the carriage had broken down.

The days spent in the forest had, perhaps unintentionally, laid bare aspects of his character that Emma had not foreseen.

"And now, what course shall you take?" Emma asked, her voice softening. "What of your pursuit to uncover your parents' killer? If Stephen is not the one responsible, then do you have any clue who it might be?"

Aurora sighed deeply, the weight of the question pressing upon her like a yoke.

"To speak plainly, Emma, I no longer wish to pursue it."

Emma sat upright, alarmed.

"What? Aurora, surely you cannot mean this. Have you so swiftly forsaken the very purpose that brought you here?"

Aurora's voice sharpened as she replied, "My purpose is not merely to find my parents' murderer." She drew a steadying breath and softened her tone.

"Perhaps it was my goal, yes, but no longer. I have learned one thing above all else: I wish to live. I do not wish to die, Emma—not for vengeance, not for anything. And I am certain my family would desire the same for me. They would want me to find happiness and seek peace rather than bloodshed."

Emma scoffed, disbelief written plainly on her face. "What nonsense is this, Aurora? Have you spent but a few weeks here and now forgotten your family? The very family you swore to avenge? Pray, tell me—is his touch so beguiling?"

Emma rose to her feet, her hands planted firmly on her hips.

"Emma, what are you insinuating—"

"Let us presume Stephen is not the murderer. Does that absolve you of the duty to uncover the truth? And yet here you are, ready to abandon it all. Truly, I cannot believe what I am hearing!"

"Emma, enough! This is my affair, and I hold the right to choose as I see fit. One would think it was your family that was assassinated, not mine." 

"Precisely! That is why you must not surrender so easily. Aurora, I beg you, regain your senses." 

"My mind is made up, Emma. I see no fault in my decision; perhaps it is you who must take time to reconcile yourself to it." Aurora folded her arms beneath her breast, her posture firm. Emma opened her lips as if to respond, but no words came forth. 

At that moment, the door creaked open, and two maids entered, their heads bowed in deference. 

"Lady Esmerelda," one began softly, "your chambers in the guest quarters are prepared." Emma inclined her head and moved to follow the maids. Yet, at the threshold, she paused and turned, her countenance inscrutable. 

"I neglected to say this earlier—I do not intend to tarry long. I shall remain only a few days before returning to my family in the countryside." 

Aurora's throat tightened, but she forced a smile. "I understand, Emma. And when I can, I shall come to visit you." 

Though their paths diverged, the weight of each other's burdens lingered in their hearts. As Emma departed, Aurora sat in silence, her gaze fixed on the window, lost in thought. What did the future hold? And, more pressing, did she possess the strength to relinquish the past? 

---

Emma followed the maids through the winding corridors of the palace, their path veering far from Aurora's quarters to the guest wing.

The walk was long, the evening shadows stretching across the stone walls, lending an air of quiet foreboding. 

Meanwhile, in Aurora's chamber, she endeavored to ready herself for rest. Yet, her plans were interrupted by the herald's announcement of the King's arrival. With a weary sigh, she turned to face the door as it swung open. Stephen entered, flanked by two men. 

Her gaze found Zayd, his calm demeanor a balm to her frayed nerves. Yet, her gaze was drawn to the third man—a stranger whose presence stirred an odd familiarity. 

"What business brings you here? And..." Her voice faltered as she gestured toward the unfamiliar figure, her curiosity piqued. 

The stranger, Trent, held her gaze, his expression unreadable, though his intent seemed fixed. Aurora felt a faint shiver crawl up her spine as the room seemed to tighten around her.