My father sat on the cold stone floor, his face hidden by his disheveled hair, his frail body as thin as a withered branch.


    “My daughter, the one who carries my blood, can predict the fate of her future husband,” he said.


    After speaking, he closed his eyes for a long time, as if coming to some grim decision.


    The king looked around and asked, “Which one of you is his daughter?”


    In the dim prison, my eldest and second sisters remained calm, unshaken. I sat in a shadowy corner, my mind slightly adrift. Beside me, my youngest sister clung to my arm, trembling.


    “Third sister, I don’t know what to do,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.


    She was only fifteen, freshly of age, timid since childhood. Ten years ago, when my mother and I were descending from a temple after offering prayers, rain poured suddenly. A beggar child chasing a stray dog slipped into the mud, blocking the path of our carriage.


    At a single glance, I urged my mother to help. That child became my youngest sister, and since then, she had been closer to me than anyone else.


    I cupped her face and made her look directly at me.


    “Trust me. You’ll be fine,” I said firmly.


    “Really?”


    I squeezed her hand gently to reassure her. “Of course. You know I wouldn’t lie.”


    We were brought before the king.


    “So, that’s it,” he mused, eyeing us with mild amusement. “Four names, and it turns out he has four daughters.”


    My father’s surname was Myles, and he’d named us simply after the seasons: Spring, Summer, Autumn, and Winter.


    The king questioned each of us in turn, asking our names and the nature of our gifts.


    The first to answer was my eldest sister, Myles Spring.


    “I can see the goodness or wickedness in people’s hearts,” she said.


    The king scoffed. “Good and evil? Even if you claim to know, how could anyone prove it?”Stolen content warning: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.


    Next was my second sister, Myles Summer.


    “I can foresee how long a person will live,” she replied.


    Intrigued, the king leaned forward. “Then tell me, how long will I live?”


    She bowed her head respectfully. “Your Majesty, you will live forever in glory.”


    Unimpressed, he frowned. “You dare not give me a real answer? Then look around this chamber and point out the one whose death is nearest. Let’s see if your claim holds any merit.”


    Straightening her back, she scanned the room before slowly raising her hand to point toward a corner.


    “Him,” she said.


    The king followed her gaze and furrowed his brow.


    “Him?”


    It was an unremarkable guard, pale and visibly shaken as he dropped to his knees. His hands trembled, his face drained of color.


    I knelt beside my sister and glanced toward the man. The sight stunned me: his hand was creeping toward his boot, where a dagger was hidden.


    The king began walking toward him, but before he could get close, the guard leapt to his feet, a flash of steel in his hand.


    “Assassin!”


    The chamber erupted into chaos.


    Acting on instinct, I grabbed a handful of dirt from the floor and hurled it into the man’s face, momentarily blinding him. Seizing the king’s sword from its sheath, I thrust it into the assassin’s chest with both hands, driving it straight through.


    The man’s eyes widened in shock, blood dripping from the blade as his body slumped to the ground.


    It was the first time I had killed someone.


    I drew a deep breath, trying to steady myself, then turned to face the king. Before I could meet his gaze, my eyes caught my youngest sister’s expression—wide-eyed and horrified. She was clinging to the king as if to shield him, trembling uncontrollably.


    By contrast, my eldest and second sisters, who were closer to the scene, remained composed and still. Their calmness helped me regain my own. I dropped the sword and returned to my knees.


    The king glanced at my youngest sister, clinging to him, then coldly pushed her aside and approached me.


    “What is your name?” he asked.


    “Myles Autumn,” I replied.


    “Do you know how to fight?”


    “No, Your Majesty.”


    He crouched closer, his sharp eyes boring into mine.


    “Then what was that just now?”


    I raised my head to meet his gaze.


    “I have a gift, Your Majesty. I can foresee death. When I look at someone, I see the moment of their demise.”


    The answer clearly caught him off guard.


    I extended my hand, blood dripping from a deep cut made by the blade.


    “This was my first time wielding a sword. I simply acted on instinct.”


    The king studied my wounded hand, then picked up the bloodied sword, turning it slowly in his grip.


    “If that’s true… can you also see how I will die?”


    “You will live a long and prosperous life, Your Majesty,” I replied.


    The king gave a faint, skeptical smile, his gaze shifting toward my youngest sister.


    Panicked, she dropped to her knees.


    “Your Majesty… I....I…”


    My eldest sister stepped forward.


    “Your Majesty, she is our youngest. She was adopted and has no talent for prophecy.”


    The king tilted her chin up with the tip of the sword, forcing her to look at him.


    “So, she’s here just to fill out the numbers,” he muttered with a smirk.