“I have so much, and the feeling for her devours it all.”

  — Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, The Sorrows of Young Werther

  The rays of the morning sun emerging from behind the horizon made their way into Prince Arenor's private chambers; they did so slowly and confidently, like professional assassins, but unlike the latter, they took away not life, but sleep.

  When one of the rays clumsily slid off the wall and fell directly on the Prince's face, he had no choice but to wake up.

  Reluctantly sitting up in bed, he rubbed his eyes with the back of his hand, trying to dispel the sleepy haze that had settled in them. And then, finally opening his eyes and glancing around his bedroom with a clearer gaze, Arenor froze at what he saw.

  His room was literally awash in liquid gold: it flowed down the walls like rivers, falling onto bookshelves, chests of clothes, his work chair and desk, his expensive but uncomfortable bed, and onto him. However, wherever these rivers flowed, they all eventually emptied into one sea - the floor. There was so much light, and it was so bright that when Arenor swung his legs off the bed, he literally felt its radiance caressing his feet like a stream of water.

  Everything that was happening resembled a dream; otherwise, he simply could not explain the striking beauty of it all.

  However, the Prince was forced to admit that no matter how beautiful it looked, it was not unusual; as far as he could remember, practically every early morning began with this - with the sun trying to drown everything and everyone around it in its light. The Prince also had to admit that all this time he simply did not pay attention to it; of course, perhaps once or twice he did freeze in admiration, but even if that was the case, he did not remember it.

  But the most important thing the Prince had to admit was that he truly loved Airena.

  After all, the real reason he finally noticed the dawn this time was not its beauty, but the colour of its light.

  The colour of liquid gold.

  The colour of Airena's eyes.

  ***

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  Initially, when Arenor saw her in the throne room, he was literally stunned by his feelings; in an instant, he felt nothing, and then suddenly he was overwhelmed by a wave of horror, happiness, hope, and many other emotions whose names he did not even know.

  "All this time... all these years... she was alive..." - that was the thought that ran through his head over and over again, drowning out everything and everyone around him.

  And then, without thinking twice, he offered her to become his personal assassin in exchange for the opportunity to bury and honour her brother the way she wanted. Of course, Arenor understood perfectly well that this was a completely unequal deal and that he was, in essence, taking advantage of her vulnerable position for his own purposes. However, he simply could not have done otherwise, because this was the only way to protect her.

  But then, a few days later, when Airena finally woke up, a doubt flashed through his mind: was it really her? Was it really Airena?

  He remembered her differently: fierce, constantly dissatisfied, loud and ready to kill everyone and everything. But now she looked desperate and lonely; in a word, empty, like a shell without a mollusc inside.

  This was not the girl he remembered at all.

  And even though he continued to protect and care for her, with every passing second his doubts grew stronger and stronger: what if it was all a pretence? What if it was all a test set up for him by Pharaoh? Arenor knew his father well, and therefore allowed for the possibility that it could all be his cunning plan. However, even though he could not find any evidence to support this theory, he also refused to simply dismiss it.

  But he couldn't start treating Airene harshly either, because then, if she turned out to be the real Airene after all, he would simply let her down. Again. And then, even if she managed to forgive him, he would never forgive himself.

  However, everything changed the moment he saw her lifeless body lying on the floor in a pool of her own blood with a dagger sticking out of her stomach.

  That moment became a tragic realisation for him that all this time it had been her. Airena. Not an actress. Not someone else. But the real Airena. His Airena.

  It was then that all his doubts vanished; he couldn't explain it logically, as he knew that his father was cruel enough not only to force some girl to play the role of Airena, but also to then force her to kill herself. However, he could feel it in the depths of his heart, which at that moment was ready to burst from what he had seen.

  Besides, Arenor remembered her divine power perfectly well — beautiful and terrible at the same time; just like its owner; unlike anyone else's.

  Of course, he allowed for the possibility of other possessors of such divine power, but there were too many coincidences: beautiful appearance, fierce character, special divine power, and eyes the colour of liquid gold, which had not changed at all.

  ***

  A sudden darkness in the room tore Arenor from his thoughts, the flow of which reminded him of a funnel, pulling him in deeper and deeper with every passing second.

  The prince glanced around his bedroom, realising that the sunbeams that had flooded his room with light just a few minutes ago had disappeared behind dark, heavy clouds that absorbed their radiance completely.

  And then he thought of Airene again: how important her rays of light were to him, and how much he was willing to sacrifice to dispel all the dark clouds around her that hid and absorbed her dazzling radiance.

  Sighing again, but this time more cheerfully, the Prince got out of bed, walked to the door, and opened it.

  "Your Highness—"

  "Bring the night guard from that day to my office," Arenor ordered, without waiting for Nasir to finish his formal greeting. "And make sure they are kept separate."