The clock struck midnight. The moon hung low over the misty hills, casting its pale silver light over the silent forest path. Famoura Felòenz tightened her black cloak and mounted her horse. The fabric shimmered faintly, absorbing the moonlight as if it were born from darkness itself. Her long braid brushed against the horse's mane as she whispered softly, "Let's go, Arvien."
The horse neighed quietly and galloped into the cold night. Famoura's heart pounded beneath her cloak. She wasn't supposed to be out here—not tonight, not after the warning from the royal guards. But she had to. Crimson was waiting, and time was slipping away.
Behind her, the faint echo of another horse grew louder. She didn't need to turn around to know who it was. Prince Henry. The man who trusted her once, and now followed her like a shadow filled with suspicion.
Famoura sighed and pulled her hood lower. "He never learns," she murmured. With a sharp pull of the reins, she turned her horse down a narrow forest trail, hoping to lose him. The branches brushed against her cloak, whispering secrets of the night.
But the prince was persistent. Within minutes, the rhythmic thud of hooves followed her again.
"Famoura! Stop!" His voice sliced through the quiet.
She didn't turn. "Stopping is your duty, not mine," she shouted over her shoulder.
"Why are you running?" Henry urged his horse closer. "What are you hiding?"
Famoura laughed under her breath. "You always ask the wrong questions, Your Highness."
Henry frowned. "I have reason to suspect you. You've been acting strange since Crimson disappeared."
"Suspicion suits you," she said coldly.
"Do you have Crimson with you?" he demanded.
Famoura glanced back, her eyes flashing in the dim light. "Have you gone mad?"
"Don't pretend, Famoura. I know you were the last one seen near her chambers."
She slowed her horse just enough for him to catch up. "If Crimson were truly with me," she said softly, "why would queen isabella have me locked in chains?"
The question hung between them, sharp as a blade. Henry's confidence faltered. For a moment, he didn't know what to say.
The forest around them thickened. The trees seemed to lean closer, their twisted branches forming dark silhouettes. Mist crawled across the ground like pale ghosts. Famoura's eyes scanned the path ahead—she knew this route. It led to a place forgotten by most: the Château de Brissac, the tallest, most haunted castle in the old kingdom.
She hadn't meant to come this way tonight, but fate—or perhaps Crimson's unseen hand—was guiding her.
Henry noticed the looming shadows of the castle walls as they emerged from the fog. "Famoura," he said warily, "why here?"
Famoura didn't answer. She dismounted and walked toward the towering gates. The iron creaked as she pushed them open. A rush of cold air met them, carrying the faint scent of roses and decay.
The night was restless at Château de Brissac. The wind howled through the broken towers, carrying whispers of old ghosts and forgotten oaths. Famoura and Prince Henry stood in the dim hall, the echoes of Crimson's power still fading into silence. Neither spoke. The air felt heavy—like something sacred had just awakened.
Before Henry could question further, a distant rumble reached them. The sound was faint at first—like the beating of hundreds of feet against the earth. Then it grew louder. Torches began to appear beyond the gates, tiny flickers in the fog that multiplied quickly.
Famoura stepped toward the window. "They're coming," she whispered.
Henry frowned. "Who?"
Before she could answer, the great doors of the castle groaned open. A flood of people poured into the courtyard—men, women, and children, all dressed in humble clothes but holding burning torches high above their heads. Their faces glowed in the firelight, eyes wide with devotion.
"we're greatful! Marie is great!" they cried in one voice, their chants echoing off the cold stone walls.
Famoura froze. Henry looked at her, startled. "They're calling you," he said in disbelief.
"Marie…" she murmured, as if hearing her forgotten name after centuries.
The people fell to their knees. "We are blessed, our queen has returned!" shouted one of the villagers, tears in his eyes.
Henry looked from Famoura to the crowd. "Yesterday you called her a witch—a traitor! You had her bound in chains! What madness is this?"
A man stepped forward, holding his torch close to his chest. "Because the truth has come to light, Your Highness," he said. "This castle no longer belongs to King Albert—it belongs to Queen Marie."
Henry's voice hardened. "Queen?" he repeated. "That's impossible. No queen can rule without a king!"
Famoura turned toward him, her voice calm but cold. "That may be true in your books, Henry. But not in everyone's."
The crowd murmured in agreement. "Our queen saved us," said a woman in a tattered shawl. "She freed us from the curse that held this land captive for generations."
Henry clenched his fists. "Her parents still live. That makes her a princess, not a queen."
A frail old man pushed through the crowd, leaning on a wooden staff. His eyes were clouded with age but shone with wisdom. "No, my prince," he said softly. "You do not understand what happened that night."
Henry turned to him. "Then tell me. Tell me what all this means."
Old Man: It was the night when everyone was celebrating the joy of finding Crimson. The whole kingdom was filled with light and laughter. But suddenly, Queen Isabella realized something was wrong, and she screamed loudly—
Queen Isabella: Nooooo!
Commander: What happened, Queen Isabella?
Queen Isabella threw Crimson away from her hands.
Queen Isabella: This one is fake! I want the real one!
At that very moment, Famoura appeared from behind and spoke in a calm but firm voice.
Famoura: Are you sure you're not talking about this one?
She held up the real Crimson before everyone's eyes.
Commander: Catch her!
Queen Isabella: No! No one will touch Famoura!
Famoura: I know that after taking Crimson, you'll kill me.
Queen Isabella: If you already knew, then why did you go through so much trouble? You could have just sent the real Crimson instead.
Famoura: Here… take the Crimson Book.
Queen Isabella: Before taking Crimson, meet someone first.
Queen Isabella brings someone forward to meet Famoura.
Famoura: Mr. Alexander? (shocked)
Isabella: "How did you like this surprise? I hope you're happy to see him."
Famoura: "Why have you done this to him? Why is he tied up like this?"
Alexander: "Princess… Princess, I've done nothing wrong."
Isabella: "He was the one who told us that we were given a fake Crimson. We should thank Alexander for that—but we kept him here only for you, to show you the truth."
Alexander: "Princess, please believe me. She is lying!"
Famoura looks at Alexander and speaks with disappointment.
Famoura: "I never expected this from you."
Isabella: "Alas! You saved his life once, but he put all of your lives at risk."
Alexander: "I was brought here by force—by the Minister!"
He is about to say more when the Commander suddenly arrives and covers Alexander's mouth.
The atmosphere inside the ruined hall was thick with dust and silence. The war had ended, but its shadows still clung to every stone. Queen Isabella stood tall, her cloak brushing against the cracked marble floor as she turned toward Famoura.
"Since you have come this far," Isabella said, her voice calm yet commanding, "you may as well surrender the Crimson."
Famoura tightened her grip on the glowing orb. The Crimson pulsed like a living heart, its veins of red shimmering faintly in the dim light. She stepped forward. "Very well," she replied softly.
She raised the Crimson, preparing to place it into Isabella's waiting hands. The Queen extended her palms with an expression that was unreadable—half anticipation, half calculation. For a moment, it seemed the exchange would happen peacefully.
But just as Isabella's fingers brushed the surface of the orb, Famoura's eyes widened.
"Stop."
The word echoed sharply across the hall.
Isabella's brows knit together. "What is it now?"
Famoura slowly drew the Crimson back to herself. "This is the true Crimson," she said, her tone firm, unwavering. "I will not hand it to you here, inside these walls. I want to give it to you before the Tower… the one place where no one can overhear us or steal the ancient language sealed inside."
A flicker of irritation crossed Isabella's face, but it vanished as quickly as it came. She lifted her chin. "Very well. This time, I choose to trust you—because at last, you have brought the real Crimson."
Behind them, Alexander stood bound, guarded by soldiers. His eyes pleaded silently as Famoura turned to glance at him. There was disappointment in her gaze… and a hint of heartbreak. Alexander had once fought by her side, sworn to protect her, sworn loyalty to her kingdom. Yet now he stood as a prisoner—accused of deception, treated as a traitor. Famoura's chest tightened, but she pushed the feeling down. This was not the moment to falter.
Famoura shifted her focus back to Isabella. The Queen was already walking toward the massive entrance, her steps echoing with authority. Famoura followed, keeping a steady pace beside her.
At the threshold, Isabella paused and spoke without turning back. "From here onward, no one will accompany us. Only you and I shall go. No guards. No advisors. Not even the commander."
The soldiers bowed their heads. Even the air seemed to still.
The two of them finally reached the upper level, standing before the ancient Tower. The wind howled around them, tugging at their cloaks.
Famoura: "I want you to use the Crimson wisely… the way it was meant to be used."
Isabella: "And a little girl thinks she can tell me what I should or shouldn't do?"
Famoura: "Then I won't give it to you at all."
She turned abruptly, trying to run.
Isabella: "I knew she would try something like this."
With a cold hiss, Isabella drew her sword, the steel gleaming under the pale sky.
Famoura: "Put the sword down—or I'll pull out every thread inside the Crimson. I'll destroy it completely. Not a single drop of its power will remain."
Isabella froze. Her greed for the Crimson outweighed her anger. Slowly, she lowered the sword, letting it stand upright in the ground.
Famoura darted toward the far side of the Tower. Isabella lunged after her, reaching out to grab her.
Isabella: "Commander! All of you, come up—"
Before she could finish, Famoura clamped her hand tightly over Isabella's mouth.
Famoura: "Not so easily."
Isabella snarled and struck Famoura hard in the stomach, forcing her to stumble back. Pain shot through Famoura's body, but she held on to the Crimson with all her strength.
She lifted it high, showing Isabella she was ready to throw it off the edge.
Isabella's eyes widened. She rushed forward, shouting, "No! Don't—"
She darted toward the falling Crimson, abandoning everything else in panic.
But Famoura stepped aside at the last moment.
Isabella's foot slipped—
And she collided with the upright sword.
For a heartbeat, everything stopped.
Famoura's eyes widened in horror. The Crimson slipped from her trembling fingers and fell to the stone floor with a soft thud. Her breath caught as she stared at what she had never intended—what she had never imagined.
"I… I didn't mean for this to happen…" she whispered, her voice shaking.
The Tower wind howled around them, as if echoing her shock.
Just then, everyone gathers there.
All the people turn to look at Famoura.
At that moment, the minister arrives and bows before Famoura.
Famoura is lost in thought. She looks around, confused, wondering why people are appreciating her instead of trying to kill her. How is this even possible?
Minister: "Our new and brilliant queen is here. Everyone, bow."
All the people bow together.
Famoura: "I'm sorry, but I'm not married, and I am only a princess."
Minister: "You won the war. That makes you the rightful ruler."
Famoura says nothing and quietly walks away.
Old Man: "After that, our Queen Marie was crowned."
Prince Henry: "Come with me, Marie," he says, taking her with him.
On the way, Prince Henry speaks to Famoura.
Prince Henry: "So that's why you were sick last night. I already suspected something."
Famoura: "But I didn't mean it that way."
Prince Henry: "Well, whatever it was… you did the right thing."
Famoura: "Hmm."
---
Next Day — Before everyone
King Francis: "I want to share some wonderful news with all of you. Just as I always trusted my grandson, Prince Henry… he has proved me right."
Famoura whispers to Princess Marie:
Famoura: "Watch… he's going to lie now."
King Francis: "Prince Henry has defeated Queen Isabella and won Château de Brissac!"
Princess Marie: "I know the truth. Your mother knows the truth. That's enough for us. God bless you."
King Francis: "And now this entire kingdom belongs to us. A grand celebration will be held tomorrow at Château de Brissac. Congratulations to everyone!"
King Francis goes downstairs to the ground floor, where Famoura is studying.
King Francis: "Excuse me, Professor Victor. Could you step outside for a moment? I need to speak with my beloved granddaughter."
Professor Victor: "Of course, Your Majesty."
King Francis: "I'm very happy that you helped us win."
Famoura: "But yesterday you gave all the credit to Prince Henry, didn't you?"
King Francis: "Actually, he is your elder brother — and most importantly, the future king who will take over after I'm gone."
Famoura: "And what does that have to do with this?"
King Francis: "It has everything to do with it, my child. Everything."
Famoura: "You all are experts at wasting my time."
King Francis laughs.
King Francis: "A little jealousy is natural… I understand."
Famoura makes a face, as if she's talking to someone foolish.
King Francis: "Well, whatever it is, I came to give you this."
He hands Famoura a small box.
Famoura: "What is this?"
King Francis: "Open it and see for yourself."
Famoura opens it and finds a royal letter. She begins to read it.
King Francis: "Actually, I didn't want you to come… but then I remembered — it was because of you that this grand celebration is happening tonight. And how could we possibly forget you? That's why…"
Famoura continues reading: she is invited to Château de Brissac tonight.
King Francis leaves the room.
The day of the grand celebration finally arrives.
At Château de Brissac, the entire palace is filled with festivity.
Colourful drapes are being hung everywhere, sparkling lights glow from every corner, and decorations shine with joy. Soft, beautiful candles are being placed along the halls. Children laugh and play happily, couples get ready to dance, and the whole castle is alive with excitement.
The scene shifts to the Fellòenz family.
Prince Charles: "You look very beautiful today."
Princess Catherine: "What do you mean? I'm not beautiful on other days?"
Prince Charles: "No, no, that's not what I meant. I mean you look extra beautiful today. This lavender colour suits you so perfectly… really impressive."
Princess Catherine: "Thank you so much."
Prince Philip: "Wait!"
Princess Marie: "Yes, tell me. What happened?"
Prince Philip: "Turn around for a moment."
Princess Marie turns around. Prince Henry steps closer, gently moves her hair to the front, and adjusts the belt at the back of her dress. The two of them become very close, sharing a soft, intimate eye contact…
Just then—
Prince Henry: "Mother! Where are my shoes?"
Princess Marie and Prince Philip instantly straighten up, becoming serious again.
Princess Marie: "I—I'll go check."
Prince Philip: "Yes, yes, go.".
Prince Henry looks at Princess Marie and says:
Prince Henry: "I can't believe this is really you."
Princess Marie: "Do I look bad?"
Prince Henry: "No, Mother… you were born for this emerald-green gown. That's why you look like an angel tonight."
Prince Philip: "Stop flirting with your own mother and go from here."
Prince Henry quickly leaves.
Meanwhile, Famoura throws a shoe in frustration — and it hits Lucien straight in the head.
Lucien: "Ouch! Who threw that?!"
Lucien quietly picks up the shoe and goes to check. He sees Famoura angrily throwing a gown aside and shouting loudly:
Famoura: "I've already worn this gown! I have nothing left to wear! I'm not going!"
Lucien gives a small smile. Standing nearby, he picks up two gowns from Princess Marie's clothing collection and secretly tries to match them with Famoura. Both gowns don't suit her. He picks up the last one but hesitates — it matches the clothes he's currently wearing, so he thinks he should put it back… but it's the last option. He holds it up to check—
—and is shocked.
Prince Lucien: "Yes! Maroon and white is totally your colour!"
He gets up to take the maroon gown to her, but then remembers something.
Prince Lucien: "Oh wait… girls don't only need gowns. They need jewellery too."
He looks around but finds none. So he gathers leaves and stones from the nearby plants. Using their colours, he paints and crafts a necklace, makes a ring from stones, and dips tiny cherries in glue to form earrings. Then he takes the gown and jewellery to Famoura.
He knocks.
Famoura: "What do you want?"
Prince Lucien: "Before you throw your other shoe at me, I brought you something."
Famoura's face lights up with happiness.
Famoura: "Thank you!"
Prince Lucien: "I only felt a little pity for you, that's all. Poor girl. I don't have much time—hurry up, wear this and let's go."
He gives her a small smile and walks away.
All the princes make their grand entrances with their princesses.
The sons of the princes stand in a perfect line, and the entire hall is celebrating with joy.
But suddenly… everyone's eyes turn toward the staircase.
Famoura is slowly descending the stairs with a soft, graceful smile.
The whole hall falls silent.
Prince Henry turns around to see what everyone is looking at — and he freezes, unable to look away.
Princess Marie becomes thoughtful.
"This looks just like one of my gowns…" she wonders.
At that moment, Lucien catches her eye from across the hall.
He touches his earlobe with both hands — signalling a cute, guilty "sorry."
Princess Marie understands immediately, smiles gently, and appreciates his kindness.
Princess Catherine: "Where did she get this gown from?"
Princess Marie: "Lucien gifted it to her."
Just then, Prince Louis steps forward and offers his hand to Princess Famous.
Princess Famoura ignores Prince Louis and walks straight toward Prince Lucien. She bows before him.
Prince Lucien offers his hand, and gently leads her down the stairs.
Princess Catherine and Princess Marie begin clapping.
Soon, everyone joins in with applause.
King Francis: "This is the love between siblings. It teaches all of you how every bond should be honored. I hope all of you are doing well."
"The preparations for dinner are complete. Come, let us all sit and eat together."
Everyone takes their seats for dinner.
Prince Lucien is about to sit beside Famoura —
—but Prince Henry quickly rushes forward and takes the seat next to her.
Famoura notices this and gives him a sharp, annoyed look.
Without a word, she stands up in front of everyone, walks around the table, and sits firmly beside Prince Lucien instead.
After dinner, everyone returns to their rooms, but King Francis stops them.
King Francis: "The Fellòenz family may stay here tonight. But send our dear princesses to their chambers. Tonight, only the ministers and the princes will stay here with me so we can decide what must be done with Château de Brissac in the coming days."
Famoura, Princess Marie, and Princess Catherine reach their chamber.
Princess Catherine: "You looked really beautiful today."
Princess Marie: "No, that's what I was going to say. You looked absolutely stunning."
Famoura: "At least talk about me sometimes too… even if it's a lie."
Princess Marie and Princess Catherine: "Awww, our Famoura!"
Both of them hug her tightly.
Famoura: "Okay, okay, that's enough. I didn't eat properly earlier… can I get something to eat now?"
Princess Catherine: "That's your fault. Food was right there — why didn't you eat?"
Princess Marie: "She's still young. She'll eat when she wants to."
Princess Catherine: "And this is your punishment! No food for you. Just because you're a royal doesn't mean you can do anything you want!"
Princess Marie: "Oh come on, stop it now."
She takes Famoura by the hand to get her some food.
Princess Catherine: "You've spoiled her too much!"
Princess Marie: "To be honest… I'm hungry too."
Famoura and Princess Marie laugh and head downstairs.
Famoura: "Bread and milk are enough for me."
Princess Marie: "Same for me."
The two sit and begin eating together, giggling as they eat.
Famoura: "Did you notice Minister William's pocket was half torn? Do you know why?"
Princess Marie: "How?"
Famoura: "I saw him getting beaten by his wife before the function."
Both burst into laughter.
Famoura: "Well… he deserved it."
Princess Marie: "Alright, if you're done eating, it's time to sleep."
Famoura: "I want to go to the Queen's Chamber. I mean… I just want to look."
Princess Marie: "Lower your voice, girl! One day you'll be the death of me."
Famoura: "There's no one here. We should take advantage of that, right?"
Princess Marie: "No. I can't take you there. Stay away from such things — it's better for you."
Famoura: "Please, Marie. I want to see my grandmother's spirit too."
Princess Marie: "I said no. NO means no."
Famoura: "Please, my sweet mom…"
Princess Marie: "Fine."
Famoura: "YES!"
Princess Marie: "But only on one condition."
Famoura: "What?"
Princess Marie: "You will not ask any questions there. And when I tell you to get out — you step out immediately."
Famoura: "Alright, promise."
Both of them walk toward the Queen's Chamber.
Princess Marie: "Look here… this main door has been sealed with cement. That's why we must enter from the back."
Famoura: "Alright, let's go."
They move to the back of the chamber.
Princess Marie: "Push this bookshelf."
Working together, they slide the heavy bookshelf aside.
Famoura: "Oh! There's another door behind it. Interesting…"
Princess Marie: "Someone was here recently. Look—there's a torn piece of someone's sock on the floor."
Famoura quietly picks up the fabric and slips it into her cloak.
Princess Marie: "Let's go inside."
Famoura: "There are such huge portraits here…"
Princess Marie: "Famoura… look at this."
Famoura: "I'm in all of these paintings with you. I really feel special."
Princess Marie: "You are special to me."
Famoura: "There's so much gold here… why doesn't anyone steal it?"
Princess Marie: "Because it's cursed gold."
Famoura: "Cursed? Because it belonged to that cursed woman?"
Princess Marie: "Maybe… yes."
Famoura: "Amazing. And why is this giant book-shaped cabinet completely empty inside?"
Princess Marie: "Because it once held the Crimson."
Famoura: "Crimson? What exactly is Crimson?"
Princess Marie: "Crimson means a deep red colour. But the Crimson Book is unique — its pages were made of red fabric, and all the writing was stitched in maroon thread. You can only read it under light.
It contains actions, spells, and even the map to where half of the world's gold is hidden.
And most importantly… Crimson was your grandmother's wedding gift from her father.
People say when she was burned… she burned with the Crimson so no one else could reach it."
Famoura: "But if she had so much gold… why would she steal the village's gold?"
Princess Marie: "I told you — no questions."
Famoura: "I'm not asking… I'm telling."
Princess Marie: "Sometimes greed swallows a person. It makes even the strongest weak."
Famoura: "Hey, look! 'Famoura' is written here!"
Just then, they hear Prince Charles shouting.
Prince Charles: "Marie! Marie!"
Princess Marie: "We have to leave. Right now."
Famoura: "Yes! Put everything back quickly."
They shove the bookshelf back in place and hurry out.
As they try to return to where they were standing—
Prince Charles: "Hey! Where are you two going?"
Famoura: "To eat bread."
Princess Marie: "Why did you come back?"
Prince Charles: "I just realised… it's not safe for all of you to stay here. There could be an attack anytime."
Famoura looks at Prince Charles from head to toe…
Her eyes drop to his socks.
Her heart stops for a moment.
The same torn sock.
The same missing piece…
…the same piece in Famoura's pocket.
Prince Charles quickly adjusts his coat to hide it.
He turns to Princess Marie:
Prince Charles: "Come, darling. Let's sleep. It's late — you must be tired."
Princess Marie leaves with him.
Famoura stands frozen, her mind racing.
But why was 'Famoura' written on a forty-year-old plank?
---
Jenna closes the book, thinking:
Why is no one reading such a brilliant story? And why is there so much mystery? Is there even a part 2?
She walks to the library counter.
Counter Man: "Hello, ma'am, how can I help you?"
Jenna: "This book was amazing… absolutely worth it. But is there a Part 2?"
Counter: "Sorry, ma'am. Part 1 didn't gain much popularity, so the author never invested in Part 2."
Jenna: "Where can I find Part 2?"
Counter: "Honestly… it might not even exist anymore. But if we ever receive it, we'll inform you."
Jenna: "At least tell me the title."
Counter: "Famoura Fellòenz and the Carpet."
Jenna gently touches the book in her hand — Famoura Fellòenz and the Town — and whispers:
"I'll find it."