In the dead of night, beneath a sky void of stars, the royal palace lay cloaked in silence. King Harold had just returned from his secret mission — delivering Luna into safe hands far from the danger looming over the kingdom.
Before he could pass through the grand arch of the back gate, a shadow stepped into his path.
Orin.
The king narrowed his eyes.— "Orin? What is it now?"
The advisor stepped forward, lowering his voice.
— "Your Majesty… our duty is not yet complete."
Harold's expression hardened.
— "What do you mean?"
Orin hesitated, as though measuring each word.
— "The princess cannot simply vanish without trace. The enemy will not be fooled for long. If the castle is left without an heir — without a daughter in Victoria's arms — they will know something is wrong. You must bring in a child, a substitute, someone to grow in her place."
The king's face turned cold, his tone almost a growl.
— "You expect me to lie to my queen? To raise another child as if she were our own? Let her call us 'Mother' and 'Father'? You ask too much. I will not crown a false princess. I would rather leave that place empty and endure Victoria's grief than deceive her so cruelly."
Orin lowered his gaze for a moment, then looked up.
— "Your Majesty… this is not only for her sake. It is for your daughter's safety. You cannot know who is watching. If they suspect the truth, they will hunt her down. A substitute child, protected by the castle's walls, will throw them off the trail. They'll think your daughter remains within. It buys us time… and buys Her Majesty the hope she so desperately needs."
Harold looked away into the darkness, fists clenched at his sides.
— "And where, Orin, am I to find a child in the middle of the night? Shall I snatch one from her mother's arms? Burn a village for a lie?"
Orin's eyes glinted with quiet resolve.
— "Leave it to me, sire. By dawn, there will be a child in the queen's arms. No violence. No witnesses. No trace."
After a long pause, the king sighed heavily. He placed a hand on Orin's shoulder.
— "I trust you, old friend. Don't fail me. I'll be waiting in my study. I… I can't face Victoria just yet."
With that, the king slipped into the shadows of the palace, cloak trailing behind him.
Hours passed.
Before the sun had even considered rising, Orin returned, his figure barely visible in the gray mist of morning. In his arms, a small woven basket — and inside, wrapped in soft cloth, a sleeping baby girl. Her tiny fists curled, her breath barely a whisper. A flicker of reddish hair peeked from beneath the blanket.
The king approached silently. He looked at the child — this helpless little thing — and said nothing.
Then, handing the basket back to Orin, he spoke, voice hoarse:
— "Take her to the queen. I have matters to attend to."
And with that, he turned away, shoulders heavy, leaving Orin to carry the weight of the lie that would shape a kingdom.
In the silent corridors of the palace, heavy with sorrow, Orin stood before the guarded doors of Queen Victoria's chamber. He placed the basket gently on a table in the hallway, its tiny occupant asleep beneath folds of soft linen. With a quiet but firm voice, he ordered the guards:
— "Clear this hall. No one enters. Protect the room."
One of the maids emerged moments later, bowing respectfully.
— "Her Majesty allows you in, Lord Orin."
He entered.
The room was dimly lit, cloaked in a veil of sadness. Queen Victoria sat on the edge of her bed, a ghost of herself. Her eyes, rimmed with sleepless sorrow, found him standing near the threshold.
She rose quickly, voice trembling with fragile hope.
— "Tell me, Orin… did you reach the man who will protect her? Did my daughter… was she safe?"
Orin lowered his gaze. He couldn't meet her eyes.
But the queen pressed on, her voice almost breaking.
— "Will I ever see her again? Please… promise me. Just one visit. I don't need more. Help me, Orin."
He swallowed hard, then spoke with great pain:
— "My queen… I'm so sorry. We couldn't… we tried everything, but Lady Luna… she didn't survive the journey. Her body couldn't hold the power. She passed on the way."
Victoria stood frozen. Then she shook her head violently, backing away.
— "No. No, you're lying. That's not true, Orin. You're not Harold. You wouldn't say such things. I feel her… I feel my daughter is alive. She's not far from me. I know it. Please… I won't go near her. I won't visit. Just tell me she's alive. Please…"
She reached out, grabbing his hands, falling to her knees before him.
— "I'm begging you, Orin. You know what Luna meant to me. You know how long I prayed. You know how many potions I took just to have her. You know Harold never truly loved me. You were my friend… my brother. Please don't lie to me now. Tell me she lives."
His voice cracked.
— "My queen… I am truly sorry. If we could've saved her, we would have. But you know the power inside her… it was too great. We tried only to protect her, but we failed."
Tears spilled from her eyes as she whispered:
— "You know I've taken more potions than I can count. Luna was my only chance… my miracle. And now…"
Orin turned his face away.
— "If… if you wish to visit her grave, I can take you. But I can't give you what no longer exists."
She stood in silence. Then, quietly, bitterly, she said:
— "You don't have to. I won't visit a grave, because my daughter is not dead. I can feel her. And I will see her again. Now leave me, Orin. I want to be alone."
He bowed, turned, and walked to the door.
But just before leaving, he paused.
— "Your Majesty… it does not end here."
She looked at him, puzzled.
"Wait here," he said. He stepped into the hall, then returned moments later… carrying the basket.
He approached slowly, voice softer now.
— "My queen… His Majesty wishes for you to have this child. She has no family. Let her be your daughter. Perhaps she will ease your pain. Call her Luna if you wish."
Victoria's eyes flared with anger. She pushed the basket aside.
— "Have you lost your mind, Orin? Did you steal her? Did you kill her parents? I don't want another child. I have a daughter. She will return to me. I will not take part in this lie. Return her to her family. Now!"
She turned her back—but then, a faint cry pierced the silence.
The baby stirred.
She looked older than Luna, just by a few months. Her tiny arms reached into the air, her sobs echoing in the stillness.
Victoria turned.
She hesitated… then whispered:
— "Who is this child, Orin?"
He stepped closer.
— "She is the orphaned daughter of a distant relative of mine. No one wanted her. No one could care for her. I thought… perhaps, if you allowed her into your heart, it might ease the weight. I swear to you, my queen, no crime was done. We did not steal her. We did not harm anyone. Please… believe me."
Victoria narrowed her eyes.
— "And why should I believe you now, Orin? When I know you and Harold are hiding my child from me. You speak of kindness, yet I smell deceit."
Orin bowed his head in silence.
— "Do what you will, my queen. The child cries… If you wish to hold her, she is yours. If not, give her to anyone else. I will leave now. Good night."
He turned, closed the door behind him, and whispered to the guards:
— "Protect the queen. Watch her closely."
Then he disappeared into the mist of the hallway.
Inside the room, the baby girl — with her brilliant orange hair — continued to cry. Her hands reached up, her eyes wide with need.
Victoria stood still, torn by grief… but her heart, even broken, was still a mother's heart.
She stepped forward.
She lifted the baby gently into her arms, cradled her with aching tenderness. The baby quieted.
A tear rolled down Victoria's cheek.
— "I will not name you Luna… Luna will come back one day. She is your sister. But you… your name is Adara. My strong girl. My older daughter… not to replace her, but to stand beside her."
She kissed her soft hair, brushed her tiny hand with her thumb, and whispered:
— "You are beautiful. But what is your secret, little one… and what game is Harold playing now?"