Nothing was known about Leandro until now, but Priscila felt the need to write to him from time to time, as if with each letter she were trying to maintain a bond she feared losing. It didn't matter that there were no replies; the simple act of telling him about her days comforted her, as if by writing to him she could make him part of her life, even though he was far away.

  She took a pen and paper, and with neat, firm handwriting, she began to write:

  "Dear Leandro,

  I still haven't heard from you. Something in my heart compels me to tell you what happens every day, but I don't want your house to be filled with letters from me, so I'll only do this for a while.

  I'm going on the trip with Máximo. I know it's risky, but I need to know the truth behind all this. The prophecies have been a heavy burden to bear. They have guided my steps at critical moments and, at the same time, filled me with doubts. I don't know what I'll find on this trip, but I need to do it. I hope to hear from you soon. I miss you."

  Priscila sighed as she reread her words. They were sincere, but there was so much more she couldn't put on paper. She couldn't write to him about the uncertainty that was eating away at her, about the feeling of emptiness she felt every time she looked back on the past and found more questions than answers.

  She folded the letter and sealed it with her ring before handing it to a messenger. As she watched him walk away, she felt her heart sink a little more. Would it be a waste to keep writing to him? Four months had passed without any news from Leandro, and although her pride told her she should let him go, her heart still longed to receive a letter with his name on it. A letter where he told her he was coming for her birthday, that he had good news, that everything was fine...

  But she couldn't allow herself to dream too much about such things. Now she had to focus on a much more difficult conversation: telling her grandmother that she was going on that journey.

  At noon, she walked with determined steps to the queen's writing room.

  When she opened the door, she found her grandmother sitting behind a large carved wooden desk, surrounded by scrolls and documents. Next to her, her advisor was reviewing matters concerning the citizens.

  Edesia looked up and, seeing her granddaughter, gave her a warm smile.

  —My dear, is everything all right?

  —Everything is fine, Grandmother. I need to talk to you about something important.

  The queen raised an eyebrow curiously, but nodded and dismissed the advisor with a slight gesture. Once the door closed, she turned her attention to Priscila.

  —Tell me, my child.

  Priscila took a deep breath, trying to calm the lump in her throat. She didn't know how to say it without sounding defiant.

  —I'm going on a journey. — she said at last. Her tone was firm, but inside, a slight tremor betrayed her. — I need to find out things about my parents, about everything that has been hidden for so long. I've had a difficult time trying to find answers, the prophecies have been confusing, and I can't keep waiting for the truth to simply come to me. So I've decided to go and find it. Maximo will accompany me.

  The silence that followed was thick, heavy like a storm brewing. The queen stared at her, saying nothing at first. Her eyes, always full of wisdom, seemed to scrutinize every word Priscilla had said, every emotion reflected on her face.

  Finally, Edesia let out a soft sigh.

  —A journey... — she murmured, resting her hands on the desk. It wasn't just the news of the trip that took her by surprise, but the fact that Priscilla had made such a big decision without consulting her first.

  — Yes. — said the princess, maintaining her gaze on her grandmother. — And I won't change my mind.

  The queen narrowed her eyes, analyzing her granddaughter with the same insight she used in matters of state. Finally, her expression changed, becoming more serious.

  —This is not something to be taken lightly, Priscilla.

  The queen's tone was firm, almost severe. Her eyes, normally filled with the wisdom of the years, now reflected genuine concern.

  Priscilla swallowed hard. She knew convincing her grandmother would not be easy, but she had expected less resistance. She stood up straight, her shoulders tense, preparing for the debate that was sure to follow.

  —Where is this trip? — the queen asked cautiously.

  —To the Reaper Archipelago. — Priscilla replied, measuring her words.

  A tense silence fell between them before the queen exclaimed, with a mixture of surprise and anguish:

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  —That's in the middle of the ocean, Priscilla!

  Her reaction did not take her by surprise, but the volume and intensity of her voice made her take a step back. The echo of her exclamation seemed to bounce off the walls of the room.

  —You're shouting, Grandmother. — said Priscilla in a calm tone, although deep down, her heart was beating fast.

  The queen closed her eyes for a moment and let out a long sigh, holding back her anxiety.

  —I'm sorry... — Her voice dropped a couple of tones, although her concern was still evident. — It's a long journey, you know?

  —I understand. — Priscilla affirmed without hesitation.

  —Do you know what to bring? — asked the queen, examining her closely.

  —I already have a list. — she replied. — I just need to find a captain to take us.

  The silence that followed was thick, almost suffocating. Priscila waited for a response, some sign of approval or disapproval, but the queen remained motionless, her gaze fixed on a distant point.

  The young woman took a deep breath and, in an unusual gesture, reached out to take her grandmother's hands in hers. They felt cold, but strong, with the firmness of someone who had held an entire kingdom together for years.

  —Grandmother... This is one of the many times I will ask you to trust me. To give me a vote of confidence. I need to do this. It's not a whim. It's not a passing fancy. It's something I must do. — her voice trembled slightly, but she held her gaze. — I need this journey.

  The queen looked at her for a long time, as if she were seeing another person through her granddaughter's eyes. And then, to Priscilla's surprise, she let out a soft, nostalgic laugh.

  —You're just as brave as your mother... You remind me so much of her... — she murmured, with palpable melancholy in her voice. Then she sighed, as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. — I'll help you find a captain, just because I know you must have your own adventures. And because... I too want to know the truth. I miss my daughter every day too.

  Priscila felt a lump form in her throat. She hadn't expected her grandmother to open up like that. With a sincere impulse, she leaned forward and hugged her tightly.

  —Thank you, Grandmother. — she whispered.

  The queen returned the embrace, and for a moment, the weight of her worries dissipated in the warmth of that gesture. But they both knew that what lay ahead would not be easy.

  Preparations for the journey began immediately. Priscila barely had time to process what she was about to do before the servants began gathering supplies, appropriate clothing, and everything else necessary for such a long sea voyage. Maps, compasses, dry provisions, and a few personal items were carefully organized. The queen, though still worried, made sure her granddaughter did not leave without being fully prepared.

  For his part, Máximo was informed immediately and, without wasting any time, spoke to his family that same day. Although the news of her sudden departure took them by surprise, there were no complaints or pleas for her to stay. Her father, a wise man with a strategic mind, understood the importance of the journey and decided to take advantage of the little time he had to teach her something crucial: cartography.

  —If the captain loses his way, you must make sure you know where you are. — his father said seriously as he spread a map on the large table in the Valois library. — Learn to read the winds, the currents... and never ignore the stars.

  For three hours, Máximo memorized coordinates, sea routes, and the best way to find his bearings on the high seas. When his father finally ended the crash course, his mother hugged him with infinite tenderness.

  —Don't forget to write to us when you can, my son. — she whispered against his hair. — I don't like to see you leave like this...

  —I'll be fine, Mother. I promise I'll come back safe and sound. — he replied with a smile, even though the weight of the farewell settled in his chest.

  Shortly after, his brothers and sisters took turns hugging him. Although they usually teased him and competed with each other, at that moment there was only affection in their gestures and words of encouragement.

  Three hours later, as the sun began to paint the sky with shades of gold and orange, Máximo arrived at the port where Priscila was already waiting for him. In front of them stood the ship that would take them to the Reaper Archipelago. It was not an imposing vessel, but its medium size made it ideal for the journey. It had two rooms: the captain's cabin and another shared cabin with a single double bed.

  The queen and Máximo's family were at the port, supervising the final details and helping to organize the provisions on the ship. The servants were also there, making sure nothing was left behind. The sea breeze ruffled the cloaks and dresses of those present, while the smell of salt and damp wood permeated the air.

  Maximo's father looked at him proudly and gave him a squeeze on the shoulder.

  —Take care of yourself, my son. Remember what I taught you.

  —I hope it's a smooth voyage. — added his mother before hugging him tightly.

  Maximo could barely respond as all his brothers threw themselves on him in a group hug.

  Amid laughter and promises to see each other soon, they finally let him go.

  A few steps away, Priscila was talking with her grandmother. They had been remembering her mother, sharing words they had never said aloud before. But when the captain called the passengers to board, the young princess knew it was time to leave.

  —I wish you the best of luck, my precios. — said the queen with a melancholy smile as she wrapped her arms around her.

  Priscila clung to her for a moment, enjoying the warmth of her embrace.

  —Thank you, Grandmother... I love you very much.

  —And I love you, my dear.

  With one last kiss on her forehead, she let her go.

  The moment of farewell felt heavier when they both boarded the ship. As the boat slowly moved away from the port, the figures of her loved ones grew smaller. Priscilla stared until she could barely make out their silhouettes on the horizon.

  Once they were far enough from land, they decided to settle into their room.

  It wasn't very spacious, but it was just the right size to move around comfortably. The double bed took up the center of the room, with a small desk next to the only window overlooking the sea. A wooden trunk at the foot of the bed would serve to store their belongings.

  Maximo watched Priscila closely. The princess, although she remained steadfast, had a slightly lost look in her eyes.

  —Are you nervous? — he asked as he approached her.

  She turned toward him and shook her head.

  —Not much... — she replied with a slight smile. — But I don't know what to expect from this trip... I just hope there aren't any storms.

  She laughed, trying to lighten the mood, although the idea of a storm at sea made her skin crawl.

  —Let's hope not. — Máximo agreed, smiling back at her.

  With nothing else to say, they began to organize their things. Then, when hunger began to set in, they decided to join the captain for dinner. The journey was just beginning, and the destination that awaited them was still shrouded in mystery.

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