Aren stood in the cold, dark night, surrounded by the quiet wild. The moon hung above Zehera like a watchful eye. Behind him, the jungle came alive with soft animal sounds and the rustling of leaves, the kind of noises that could easily give someone goosebumps.
He took a deep breath, feeling the cool air on his face.
This was the moment.
Finally.
Aren rested against the hard tile wall of the tunnel and counted his breaths. He was trying to time it for the right moment.
Midnight came, during which time the moon hung high overhead in the open city. From the rooftops, its silver light splashed gloriously on the lovely roofs of the palace.
With one last deep breath, Aren slipped into the shadows of the city, weaving through archways and carefully slipping past guards barely awake at their posts. He wasn't from Zehera, but these tunnels weren't known to most. They were old, ancient pathways, twisting deep underground, hidden beneath the city where only a few remembered their paths. .
As he approached the palace center, the steps slipped, and silence rushed into hurried footsteps; the mind throbbed with one obsession: reach Amira's quarters.
His purpose was not to cause war, nor to spill blood on this night. No; rather, The whole thing was tied up with a personal favor. His purpose was to possess again his milu gems. And if Amira denied him hers? He already had one smart little threat in his head, telling her, "If you don't give me my gems back, on the day that you decide to ask me for a kiss - I swear to leave you hanging. No lips for you, princess."
He was almost laughing it out but bit it back and shook his head.
Right in front of the servants' yard, he picked up some spare clothes hanging out to dry: loose brown pants and a simple white tunic. He threw them on in a hurry and tied his hair back. In the pale moonlight, he now looked a palace servant.
Aren strode boldly into the palace halls, getting lost in the throng of employees coming back and forth with trays and decorations. Gold glittered on the walls, and the inside became even more sumptuous with the light of thousands of burning candles. Music and laughter echoed down the hallway from a party going on rejoicing over something - be it a coronation or Amira's coming back with the milu gems?
You never forgave him for always trying to draw attention while pretending to be humble. Then suddenly, luck hit him in the face — a maid tangled in a pile of sheets came around the corner and almost crashed into him
"Hey! You there... Are you a new servant? she asked suspiciously.
"Yes," Aren answered a little too quickly. The word slipped out sharp, but his face stayed oddly calm as he started nodding slow at first, then faster;so much that the maid flinched and nearly lost her grip on the sheets she was carrying.
She narrowed her eyes at him, studying him for a moment before deciding he wasn't a threat. Just as she started to walk past, Aren stepped forward, pretending to hesitate—as if he wasn't sure whether to speak or stay silent
"Um... Sorry, I'm new around here," he scratched the back of his neck as he blurted them out. "Do you know where Princess Amira's quarters are? According to the report, I have something urgent that must get to her."
The maid blinked, a hint of surprise in her eyes, then pointed down the hallway. "Go straight, take the second left, then up the spiral staircase. Her room's at the very end;the one with the golden door. You can't miss it
"Thanks," he said with an easy nod, offering her a quick, grateful smile before heading off.
.
Behind his back, he couldn't hold back a little smirk for himself.
"That's right, princess," he thought, light on his feet, so easy within danger. "Give me back my gems, or no kiss for you. I'm going to make you beg for it."
That mocking stare of his dug into her already-tired eyes, fueled by his own anticipation—imagining the way Amira might look, desperate for a kiss she'd have to ask him for.
With that light, excited buzz clinging in the back of his mind, he slipped deeper into the palace's corridors, moving quickly,but with enough stealth to make his way toward the golden door waiting at the end of the hall.
Tonight was a game, not revenge or fight. A good game- Aren had never envisioned defeat.
Aren chuckled quietly and shook his head. He fixed his servant shirt, took a deep breath, and gazed into the long, stretching hallway, already imagining the moment he would stand before Amira demanding his prizes back and perhaps teasing just to see her face when angry.
He stepped lightly, eyes flickering from guard to guard. Whenever footsteps approached, he would slip into the nearby shadows. Each turn, each staircase made his heart start pounding faster.
At last, he reached the east wing. Soft moonlight poured through tall windows into the hallway. He counted down each door until he reached it: the last golden door on the left.
With his hand, he tapped softly at the door and then knocked harder to ensure it echoed in her room.
Tonight, he did not come to war or steal; he came for the rest of his gems in the name of restoring self-respect, and if possible, some fun.
Aren stood staring at the door, eyes opened wide, waiting for the revelation of whatever the night had in store for him.