Determined to take control of their fates, Arjen and Arien escape Derolina Castle at the age of sixteen after their cruel mother dies. They adopt new names and find a home in the city of Aramore, while the Emperor of Yuriana searches for his missing...
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Emperor Adren Yuriana stood on a balcony overlooking the jungle that passed for Derolina's gardens. To a casual observer he might seem calm, but the fingers that gripped the balcony's railing belied his growing anxiety. The knights went about the grounds, checking every nook and cranny, under every overgrown shrub and behind every tree. He watched as they tore apart the barriers that concealed a space under a dilapidated gazebo.
He had sent knights out into the forest as well. They scoured the woods, cutting away the tall vegetation. Their voices echoed across the estate as they called out. Throughout the night, magic lights had bounced and flickered as the knights illuminated their paths. Meanwhile, in the castle, they searched each room and interrogated the servants.
Nothing. They had found absolutely nothing.
A hollowness ached in the Adren's chest. Once more his mind went over every aspect of the castle, all the places he could think of. But they had checked everywhere. He'd had the castle's original design plans inspected for underground passages, but there were none. He ordered the knights to sweep the castle a second time. His subordinates came back empty handed, and his thinning patience made their unease palpable.
He pulled himself away from the balcony and went back to the twins' bedroom. There had to be clues somewhere. They didn't just vanish into thin air.
The knights had already checked under the beds and checked the walls for hidden openings and secret rooms. Someone had removed a painting from the wall and found a space large enough for two small children. Inside the space remained a few trinkets and a scrap of paper with markings resembling some kind of game. Adren concluded the twins had used this space to hide.
The room was a mess now, but it had been shabby to begin with, with no decoration and everything appearing outdated, worn, or broken. The wood floors lacked rugs and creaked underfoot. Drafts crept in from the poorly-sealed windows, and there were no ashes in the fireplace. Water damage discolored some of the walls and ceiling. To think someone from the imperial family had lived here! Indignation stung Adren's soul.
On one side of the room was a wardrobe, its doors ajar after the knights had searched it. Adren hadn't looked at it himself. Shirts and dresses hung from hangers and he sorted through them, noting the faded colors and frayed hems. Several pieces had stitches and patches, and he ran his thumb over them, wondering. The clothes appeared to fit two sixteen-year-old commoners, not royalty who had manifested into adult bodies by now.
He picked up a pair of men's shoes on a shelf. The heel had been worn down to almost nothing, and some of the upper had begun to separate from the sole. A pair of women's shoes showed similar wear, the once-polished surfaces scuffed and scratched. These were the only pairs of shoes in the wardrobe. In two drawers he found trousers, bloomers, stockings, and other undergarments, all thin and dingy. The last drawer contained an assortment of other items: belts, ribbons, combs, a hand mirror, spare buttons, fabric remnants, and a sewing kit.
