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Seele bit her lower lip as she sprinted away from the stall. Behind her, the owner’s voice rang out furiously.
“Thief!”
She didn’t slow. She weaved through the crowd, slipping past startled shoppers and sidestepping carts with no trouble.
“Stop the girl in the purple cloak!”
Seele glanced over her shoulder with a grin, still sprinting. She raised a hand and flipped him off.
“Shut the hell up, liar!” she barked, before whipping around and charging forward again.
She was the actual owner of those boots they were selling, and anyone who believed the merchant’s lie that they magically found them was an idiot. She supposed she could thank them for cleaning and shining it to make it presentable, though.
She kept running and running. Then the shouting grew louder. And then there were screams.
“Make way!” someone cried.
Make way? For what?
Seele glanced over her shoulder, her eyes widening at what was behind her.
A snow-white horse is barreling down the cobbled street. Its eyes were wide with fear, and the reins waved wildly in the air. People screamed and scattered, crates of fruit flying as the animal charged through the marketplace like a storm unleashed.
“ Shit, shit,” she curses under her breath as her eyes quickly scan the area to find an escape route. However, her eyes caught sight of a group of children frozen in place by fear.
Her body moved before she could even think about it. She lunged forward, reaching out to grab the reins as the horse thundered past and mounted it. The force nearly threw her off it, but she dug her heels in and twisted her body to change its course. The animal neighed in protest, but Seele held firm, whispering (not really) calming nonsense as her arms strained against its strength.
“Easy… easy now. Hey! Calm down, girl!”
It took several seconds (which felt like an eternity), but the horse eventually slowed down. Its hooves clattered against the floor as it danced in place, breathing hard. Seele took a glance at the place where the children were and saw that they had finally regained their senses and were running away.
“What in… all the hells, girl. Has… has no one taught you manners?” Seele panted, still gripping the reins and pressed against the creature’s back. Her heart was racing.
She dismounted the horse after she caught her breath, nearly losing her balance as she stepped onto the floor because, damn, her legs are shaky.
She was adjusting the satchel across her chest when she heard hurried footsteps.
“Snowcrown!” someone called breathlessly, prompting Seele to look up.
A girl was running straight toward her—no, toward Snowcrown. She was taller than most, dressed in nothing more than a simple cloak, hair tied back, cheeks flushed from running. Her gray eyes lit with relief the moment they found the horse, then shifted to Seele.
The stranger’s eyes widened slightly.
“You…” the stranger began, still catching her breath. “Thank you. For stopping her.”
Seele raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “You the owner?”
“Yes.” The girl stepped forward, gently stroking the horse’s neck. “She usually doesn’t get spooked. I'm not entirely sure why she ran off.”
“Well, she nearly trampled half the square.”
“I’m… aware,” the girl muttered, her expression twisting into a mix of embarrassment and gratitude. “I’m sorry for the trouble.”
Seele merely shrugged, telling her it happens all the time. Then she bid goodbye, pulling her hood back up that had fallen during the chaos.
She was seven steps away from the horse when something prickled at the back of her mind. The girl didn’t look like someone who worked with horses. Her hands and clothes were too clean. And the horse… was far too well-groomed, with a polished saddle that has a royal insignia etched in silver.
“Wait a second.” Seele paused in her track, slowly spinning around as she narrowed her eyes. “That your horse, you say?”
“...Yes.”
“Funny.” Seele cocked her head. “Because that,” she gestured to the saddle crest, “is the royal seal.”
The girl’s lips parted, but no answer came immediately.
Seele watched her silently, her mind working on putting the pieces together. Her jaw dropped when her brain formed something.
“Holy… You! Don’t tell me you stole the royal horse?!”
Bronya excused herself from her lessons under the guise of feeling sick, saying her body still ached from the previous day’s fencing drills. In truth, she couldn’t stand another minute of Serval’s lectures. At least, not today.
She waited by the window of her chamber, half-hidden by the curtain, watching the courtyard below. Pela was doing exactly as promised. She was escorting Serval out through the south entrance. Bronya’s gaze lingered as the two women exchanged a few words at the archway. Serval’s hand lifted once, gesturing toward the wing where Cocolia usually took her morning tea.
Bronya tensed. She knew what came next. Serval often stayed behind after lessons to “check in” with the queen. Bronya never heard what they were talking about, didn’t bother to know. But she knew it was never just a casual visit between friends.
Whatever they have, Bronya didn’t care. She just wanted to have a day when she could have her freedom.
To her immense relief, Serval gave Pela a small nod and left through the gate, never glancing back toward the palace.
Bronya let out a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.
Good. No casual talks today. It will be easier to sneak out with fewer people around.
She tied her hair and slipped on her cloak, the one that had no crest stitched into fabric. It was given to her by an old servant who looked after her when her mother couldn’t.
Moving through the servant halls was second nature by now. Without any problem, she reached the old storeroom door that led to the stables. The air smelled of hay and dirt, and the sky was clear.
Perfect.
Bronya stepped inside the stables and saw that it was empty, save for one soul. The horse stood tall in her stall, coat as white as fresh snowfall and mane like silk.
“There you are,” Bronya whispered, smiling. “Still waiting for me.”
The mare snorted softly and bumped her muzzle into Bronya’s shoulder. “I missed you, too. Let’s disappear for a while, shall we?’
She didn’t have a plan where to go, but somewhere along the way, she found herself in the Underworld.
She kept her head low, hiding herself from the curious eyes of the townsfolk.
Her curiosity then led her to a jewelry stall tucked between two crooked buildings. The pieces were unlike anything she had in the palace. They were rough-cut, mismatched, and beautiful in a chaotic sort of way.
She dismounted to observe the gems closely.
Then cue the chaos.
Her horse screamed, reared up, and bolted down the street like it had seen the ghost of a tax collector.
“Wait, Snowcrown! COME BACK!”
She sprinted after it and then…!
Well, next thing she knew, she was being accused of stealing her own horse. Simply because she forgot to remove the saddle that bores the crest.
(It was surprising that this person was the first one who noticed and bravely pointed it out, though.)
“I beg your pardon?!” Bronya gasped, offended. “I did not steal her!”
“Sure you didn’t.”
“I did not!” Bronya insisted again. Why is this girl being difficult?
The other girl was not fazed. She simply looked at the horse, then at the royal crest stitched into the saddle, then back at Bronya. Bronya could almost see the pieces clicking into place behind those narrowed eyes.
Then she grabbed the reins with one hand and sighed like she had personally been burdened by the universe’s dumbest god-given errand. “Alright, fine. I get it. You’re new to crime. You suck at hiding. Congratulations.” She gave two sarcastic claps. “You’ve just recruited the getaway expert.”
Bronya schooled her expression, though it took effort. She wanted to scowl—no, seethe—at this infuriatingly smug, alarmingly charming stranger who had, technically, just saved a few dozen townspeople from being trampled to death by her runaway horse.
She opened her mouth, ready to launch into a very dignified, very elaborate explanation when a deep voice shouted from somewhere down the street.
“I think she went that way!”
The girl exhaled, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Okay, cool. Time to go. Come on, rookie.”
“Rookie!? ”
Bronya didn’t have time to protest further because the stranger had already mounted the horse. She grabbed the reins with the confidence of someone who absolutely should not be this comfortable assisting a potential fugitive. Bronya doesn’t know whether she should be grateful or deeply concerned that such a citizen exists.
“Get on!” The girl called, offering a hand. “Or you wanna stay here and get executed in broad daylight?”
“The royal guards would not do such a thing without a proper and fair trial!”
“What? Why do you talk like that!? Anyway, those aren’t the royal guards. Those are thugs.”
And true enough, when Bronya risked a glance over her shoulder, she saw them. Three men barreled down the street; one of them wielding a broken broom handle like it was a sword, another foaming slightly at the mouth, and the third carrying a sack of what might have been cabbages or possibly human heads. Hard to tell. Either way, they don’t look like the royal guards indeed.
“Why are they—?”
“Long story short, I stole something that was originally mine. Now they are kinda chasing me to rob me again,” she said, far too casually for someone with an angry mob on her heels. “Minor misunderstanding, really. Mostly his fault. Legally speaking.”
Bronya stared at her in disbelief.
“GET. ON. THE. HORSE.”
With a groan that sounded like a betrayal of her upbringing and her sense of pride, Bronya grabbed the offered hand and climbed up behind her.
“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” she mumbled.
“I can’t believe you were confident enough to steal from the palace for your first try,” Seele replied, already steering them into an alley.
“For the last time, I did not steal— ”
“—Yeah, yeah. We’re revisiting this argument after we stop being chased by stupid thugs.” She tugged the reins sharply, ducking under a low-hanging pipe.
Bronya shrieked and clung to her waist. “Warn me next time!”
“Sorry, I’m charging double for warnings. You think you can pay me? No? Thought so.”
Bronya gritted her teeth as another pipe whooshed past overhead, the Underworld blurring around them in a chaotic rush of brick, steam, and startled shouts. Her arms tightened instinctively around the girl’s waist, which only made her more annoyed.
They sped through a corridor, sending a flock of pigeons exploding into the sky. Somewhere behind them, another voice yelled, “There! Over the bridge!”
The girl only grinned sharply and turned the horse hard into a corner that Bronya didn’t think was possible to survive. The stallion skidded, hooves scraping sparks off the cobblestone, but she had it under control.
They passed a row of fruit stalls just as an apple rolled too close to the edge. The stranger plucked it mid-gallop with one hand and took a huge bite.
Bronya stared in horror. “Did you just steal that?!”
“Don’t worry,” she said around a mouthful of apple, “I’ll pay for it on the way back.”
“You’re a criminal!”
“Picky words coming from someone clinging to me like I’m her knight in shining armor. Want some?”
“You’re not even wearing armor!” Bronya barked, swatting her hand away when she handed Bronya the half-eaten apple.
“Because I don’t need it,” the girl replied, giving the reins a flick as they cleared a stack of crates. “Now hold on, babe, we’re about to jump.”
“What?!”
The horse soared.
Bronya screamed. The loudest scream she had ever produced in her twenty-one years of existence. A scream that came from the depths of her soul and possibly knocked several birds out of the sky.
The world tilted… then she slipped!
For a split second, she was airborne in the worst way imaginable. Her one leg was off the horse, her weight pitching dangerously to the side. She wondered if maybe she’d done something unspeakably wrong in a past life to deserve this. Like… kicked a nun. Or insulted a sacred goose. Or dared to correct her mother during a council meeting.
She was already muttering her apologies to the gods when she felt a strong hand on her waist that yanked her back into place.
“Gotcha, sweetheart,” the girl said with a grin and—and a wink.
The stranger had the audacity to wink at her, right after nearly letting her fall to her death. Bronya couldn’t tell if her heart was racing from the adrenaline or because the girl was annoyingly charming.
Eventually, they lost the thugs.
Seele slid off the horse and looped the reins around a rusty pipe jutting from the wall. Without a word, she ducked through a narrow gap in the crumbling concrete, holding aside a tangle of wire for Bronya to follow. On the other side stood a weather-beaten shack with a brick holding the door in place. The whole structure leaned slightly.
“Welcome to Casa de Seele—that’s me, in case I haven’t told you my name yet,” she said, spreading her arms. “One of my many hideouts. Cozy, secure, occasionally rat-infested, but don’t worry, they’re very shy.”
She shrugged off her cloak and satchel, letting them fall in a heap before flopping into a hammock. With a satisfied stretch, she glanced at Bronya.
“So,” she drawled, “now that we’re not being chased by broom-wielding maniacs, mind telling me something? Why’d you steal a horse? A royal one, no less.”
“I didn’t steal it!”
Seele raised both eyebrows.
Bronya took a deep breath and straightened her posture. “That horse is mine. I rode it. Voluntarily. As the Princess of Belobog.”
Seele stared at her with a blank face, then a grin spread before she burst into laughter. “Oh gods, not this again. You’re like... the fifth girl to tell me she’s the Princess of Belobog.”
“…What?”
“Mhm.” Seele swung her legs over the side of the hammock, hands gesturing animatedly. “One showed up in a curtain she wore like a cape and said the embroidery was her family crest. Another brought a broken snow globe and called it her ‘royal orb.’ You wouldn’t believe how creative girls get when they want my attention.”
Bronya opened her mouth, stunned. “They lied to flirt with you?”
“Obviously,” Seele smirked. “You think you’re the only pretty girl with a secret identity and good hair trying to impress me?”
Bronya’s face turned red.
“Thought so. So what’s your gimmick, Princess ?” Seele crossed her arms. “Does your royal blood let you speak to pigeons? Do chandeliers weep in your presence? Do the common folk faint when you bless them with your shadow?”
“I. Am. Telling. The truth.” Bronya clenched her jaw. “And I can prove it.” She reached into her cloak and pulled out a small, finely crafted signet pin. Silver, intricate, bearing the crest of the royal family.
Seele’s smirk faltered.
“Where’d you get that?” she asked with sudden suspicion.
“From my mother,” Bronya replied, stepping closer and holding the pin out for her to see. “It’s real. This isn’t something you can fake. The design is the original royal seal, used only for direct members of the bloodline. You can check if you don’t believe me.”
Seele took it gingerly, studied it, flipped it once, then gave Bronya a pointed look. “Okay. Either you’re the best liar in this city, or… you’re actually serious.”
Bronya didn’t say anything. Just stared back at Seele.
“…You’re actually serious.”
“I am serious,” Bronya said. “My name is Bronya Alexeievna Rand, the only daughter of Supreme Guardian Cocolia Rand. By right of birth, I am the Princess of Belobog.”
“Oh, by the sewers of Rivet Town…” Seele slowly rose from her seat, hands on her head and paced in circles furiously. “I kidnapped the real princess. The real, actual, living princess. The one that I did not believe exists because no one has seen her face in—how old are you?”
“Twenty-one.”
“Twenty-one years!” Seele echoed. Her brows knitted in worry. “Do you know what’s going to happen when they find out you’re with me, an undergrounder? They’ll think I kidnapped you!”
“Technically, you did not because I still voluntarily mounted Snowcrown.”
“Okay, as if anyone would buy that. They’ll just think I poisoned you to say that! Shit, this is bad. They’ll slap my face on every wanted poster in the whole city again! And they’ll still spell my name wrong! Every time! ”
“Your name?”
“Yes! ‘Ceila,’ ‘Sela,’ ‘Steel’—who names their kid Steel?! And don’t get me started on the sketches!”
“What about them?”
“They always mess up my mouth!” Seele gestured dramatically to her lips. “Like, what is this? A pigeon beak? I have great lips!”
She marched over to the broken mirror propped against the wall and jabbed a finger toward her reflection. “Look at these! Balanced! Slight plush! Pink as spring peaches! Kissable! ”
She turned to Bronya for backup, only to find the princess gawking at her with a look that could be described as either appalled or faintly flustered.
“What?”
“You are… very attached to your lips.”
“Because it’s my best feature! Well, top three. I’ve got great back muscles and killer abs, in case you’re wondering.”
“I’m not but… okay.”
“And you,” Seele exclaimed as she pointed at Bronya like she was the root of all evil. “Why do you have to be the actual Princess who has a mother who’d probably declare war on me for breathing too close? You’re exactly my type, but you just have to make our love story politically impossible.”
Bronya blinked, visibly thrown. “Wait, that’s not… That’s not the point. We’re getting sidetracked. This shouldn’t be about,” her eyes darted to Seele's... features, “about abs or types.”
“Of course, it isn’t,” Seele groaned again, rubbing her hands down her face before gesturing wildly. “Okay, so what now? You turning me in? Throw me in some golden dungeon with fancy chains and a harp-playing prisoner that looks like cupid?”
“I’m not turning you in. Because I have a proposal to make.”
“Oh. Huh. What’s that proposal? Marriage? You gonna make me your trophy wife?”
“Can you please be serious for five minutes?”
“Fine.”
“Thank you.” Bronya shut her eyes briefly. “My proposal is I want you to show me what the Underworld is really like.”
“What are you talking about? I already did. We ran from thugs, stole an apple, and are currently hiding in a shack. That’s pretty authentic.”
“I’m being serious,” Bronya said. She tried to keep her voice calm. “I saw it earlier before everything went wrong. The streets. The people. The way they looked at the palace was like it was something so out of reach.”
She stared off into the dark as her mind drifted back to the market. There was a kid who ducked, out of instinct, behind a vendor’s stall when she walked by. The merchants had watched her too, their hawk eyes not even hiding the questions like Who was this stranger with clean clothes and the wrong kind of posture? It stuck with her because they didn’t know who she was. To them, she just looked like some traveler passing through, looking lost.
And after reflecting? Maybe she was.
She exhaled, steadying her thoughts. “I’ve read everything. I sat through every lesson, every briefing. I thought I understood the Underworld. But I was wrong. I came here just to escape for a while. But now I can’t go back without knowing more. Without really seeing it. Because someday, this,” she gestured at nothing in particular, "this is supposed to be mine to protect. But how can I lead people I’ve never actually met?”
Seele stared at her for a beat, then said, “Okay. Are you sure this isn’t just boredom talking? Because I can give you the quick tour right now: it’s ugly, broken, and tired. No one here is waiting for a princess to swoop in and make it better. A few nice words won’t fix this. Curiosity won’t fix this, princess.” She shook her head. Her voice lacked venom, but Bronya knew she was being serious when she added, “So if you’re looking for someplace to play tourist, pick another map. My world’s not a stop on your royal sightseeing trip.”
“I don’t want a tour. I am asking you to show me what’s been hidden from me. Because, Seele, I want to help you, and we both know I can. We can save your world, but only if you give me your trust and cooperation. So, please, let me in. ”
There was a long silence. Then Seele murmured, almost too quiet to hear, “You’d better mean every word, because this town’s had its fill of empty promises.”
Bronya waited for Seele’s decision.
“You want to see the forgotten parts of Belobog? Fine. I’ll show you the broken homes, the kids who grow up afraid of shadows on the wall, the families scraping by just to make it through another night.” Seele fixed her gaze on her. “Last warning, princess. This place doesn’t just chew people up. Sometimes, it breaks them. And you’re not immune to that.”
“I’m not afraid. If that’s what it takes to understand your world, then let it break me.”
Seele watched her again for a long moment, searching for cracks in her resolve. When she found none, she exhaled sharply through her nose.
"Ugh, I didn't sign up for this. I just wanted to get my boots back and now I have the real princess of Belobog asking for my help? I must be dreaming," she said under her breath. "Alright, princess, let's start your education."
But before Bronya could reply, Seele held up a hand.
“After you go return that royal show pony of yours. Seriously, that horse looks like it belongs in a parade. We’ll have the whole town watching us like we’re some noble charity act.”
“...You want me to go back?”
“Temporarily,” Seele said with a shrug. “And while you’re at it? Change those clothes. The way your clothes under that cloak catch the sunlight, I can see something sparkling. What is that? Fancy suit and tie?”
“It’s the standard uniform for horse riding.”
“Cute, but it also screams ‘I’ve never had to haggle for bread in my life.’” Seele grabbed her satchel and cloak from the floor. “I’m giving you two days. Think about what you’re getting into. If you’re serious, really serious, then meet me under the bridge we passed earlier. Just before dusk.”
“But—”
“No buts. You’re not playing tourist, right? Then come back here stripped of every symbol that says you can leave whenever it gets uncomfortable.”
“I understand.”
Seele started walking, but then she paused once more and glanced over her shoulder. “Oh, and if you do come back?”
"Yes?"
“I’ll let you kiss me. Just once. On the cheek. Maybe.” She added with a smirk, “Or twice if you bring snacks.”
Bronya gasped. “K-kiss? I’m not bringing–no, I mean. Snacks? That’s not the point. Wait, why would—?”
She trailed off as Seele disappeared, humming like she hadn’t just tossed a live grenade into Bronya’s entire emotional system.
The princess stood there for several seconds, blinking at the empty shack.
Then softly, to no one, she muttered, “…What kind of snacks would she like?”