“Hey, Alana, do you like the stars?”

She never thought she liked the stars. But Alana didn’t want to disappoint Mileia, and she lied, “I like them.”

She lied to her because she knew how Serrat would end. A stabbing pain throbbed in her chest. She wondered what it was.

“Alana doesn’t laugh. If you laughs, you would absolutely be cute, but it’s a waste.”

There was something soft on her lips, and she flirted with her.

Mileia had said that she loved to kiss. Alana had no idea what kissing meant because she had not read anything about it in any of her books. She did not know how this could be connected to happiness.

There were two entrances to Mileia’s apartment. One led to the corridor—the other led to the King and Queen’s apartments. Alana had decided to open the door when Mileia fell asleep. At night, Alana was invited by Mileia to go out to the terrace, hand in hand. The air was clean and crisp, penetrating to the nostrils. At her urging, she looked up at the sky and saw no clouds, and the sky spread out a carpet of stars.

“Tomorrow is the new moon, so it won’t be like this, okay? You’ll see many, many more stars.” She added, her face glittering and dazzling.

“Every time someone wishes for someone’s death, the stars disappear one by one.” Mileia smiled as she shook her head at the story she heard for the first time. “That’s what my mother told me. But you know, even after one year, two years, three years, four years have passed since I heard the story, there are still many stars. So, I think that these many stars are proof that someone wishes for someone’s life. There are probably more of them wishing for someone to live than wishing for someone to die. That’s why they don’t disappear.”

While Alana was following the stars with her eyes, Mileia pointed to a very large star, “Look. That star is proof that I want Alana to live. I want to be your friend forever and ever. So don’t die, Alana, okay? Promise me that you won’t leave me.”

She wanted to return. But she couldn’t. Alana had come to this country at the risk of her life. If she didn’t do that, she wouldn’t be able to save anyone.

Once again, Mileia entwined her arm around Alana’s arm.

“I’ve been thinking about you since the moment I met you. You are so fragile. You’re going to disappear any second. That’s why I’m scared.”

“I’m not afraid of death. Do you think it’s scary, Mileia?

“It’s scary. No, Alana, are you scared too? Don’t die. Please.”

She held up her pinkie to her, and Alana raised her pinkie back. They both tapped the tips of their fingers. It was a sign of promise. Since they were friends, she felt she could not respond.

“I promise you this. Death will befall us all equally, but I will not kill myself. In other words, I will not commit suicide. As long as you are alive, I will be your friend until death do we part…”

Mileia seemed to like that statement she recited.

“I promise you. I will not kill myself too. As long as I live, I will be Alana’s friend forever, until death do us part….” Mileia thrust her chin out faintly, a gesture she often made when she asked for a kiss. Alana did as she wished and closed her eyes. It wasn’t long before something warm came to rest on her lips.

She still did not know what the kiss meant. But she thought the warmth she felt was ‘trust’.

♔♔♔

Mileia fell into a deep sleep when the clock struck eleven. She was not in good physical condition, but Alana managed to get through it out of sheer will. If she didn’t have the will, she would have fallen asleep long ago.

Alana rapped twice on the white door. Soon after, a bell rang. The king or queen of Serrat had allowed her to enter. What would happen if someone who was not their daughter entered the room? But she had no choice but to see them. This was the only reason she had come here. Alana tried to open the door with her hand, but it was too weak to do so. Even with both hands, it was impossible. As she fumbled with the door, the door opened from the other side.

“Mileia, what’s wrong?”

It was a man with a fearless face and a slight resemblance to Mileia. She thought it was the king.

“…Who are you?”

The king noticed Mileia sleeping in her chaise longue and said to Alana, “Come in.”

Despite her servant appearance, the king guided Alana to the room where her queen was staying.

She was offered a chair, but Alana bowed deeply to them both. It was proper etiquette. She clasped her hands lightly and placed her index fingernail on her forehead, then on her left shoulder, and finally on her right. Finally, she extended her hands, crossed her arms in front of her chest, and knelt on the floor. It was a gesture of submission, the Armenian way of showing a noble that she was not an enemy. No one in the country that was once part of the Millennial Year Empire knew this.

The king seemed to be surprised; his eyes were wide.

Alana was staring at her floor when she was asked to raise her face.

“Look up,” but Alana remained staring at the floor.