Second act

My heart was racing as I stood in front of the casting panel. I had prepared for this moment, spent hours memorizing the lines, rehearsing each one in my mind until they felt like second nature.

But it was one thing to practice in front of a mirror; it was something entirely different when I was standing in front of a room full of critical eyes. And, of course, Zaya. 

Zaya, the woman I had seen at the awards ceremony just two days ago, was sitting among the producers, her expression as unreadable as ever.

I hadn't expected her to be here definitely not as one of the people judging my performance. She was a model, not an actress. What was she doing here? 

I had to push those thoughts aside and focus. I took a deep breath, letting the words I had memorized rise to the surface.

I could feel the weight of everyone's gaze on me, but I was ready. I opened my mouth to start my scene, but before I could say a word, the director cut me off.

"Wait, wait! I forgot to mention something important," he said, waving his hand in the air like he had just remembered something crucial. His face lit up with enthusiasm. "Zaya is playing the role of the spy."

My heart skipped a beat, and I glanced at Zaya, who raised an eyebrow. She looked as surprised as I felt. Of course, she was playing the spy. Why hadn't I seen that coming?

"I want you two to perform one of the scenes together," the director continued, flipping through the script in front of him.

"Let's see… Ah, yes, the scene where the spy is caught outside the princess's window and they argue. Let's do that one."

A nervous laugh bubbled up inside me, but I held it back. Zaya was going to be in this scene with me? The entire audition had just shifted.

I felt the tension in the room rise, and I could sense that the other producers were just as curious as I was.

Zaya didn't exactly look thrilled by the idea. In fact, she seemed mildly annoyed, but to my surprise, she gave a slight nod.

"Fine," she said, her voice cool, like this was just another day for her.

I swallowed hard, trying to keep my nerves in check. Zaya stood up from her chair and moved to the middle of the room, and I followed suit, trying not to overthink how this was going to go.

Zaya was tall, her presence intimidating in a way that was hard to describe. I couldn't help but feel like I was about to perform with someone who already knew the spotlight better than anyone.

The director handed us both a copy of the scene, but I didn't need it.

I had already memorized it. I took a quick glance at Zaya, who was skimming the page like it was an afterthought. Of course, she could do this without even trying.

"All right," the director said, settling back in his chair, his eyes gleaming with excitement. "Take your places."

I stood in front of an imaginary window, imagining I was the princess, staring down at the spy lurking outside. Zaya positioned herself across from me, her arms crossed, looking exactly how I imagined a spy would aloof, detached, but deadly.

There was something so cool about the way she carried herself, like she knew she had the upper hand. I had to snap out of it and focus on my character.

The director gave us a nod to begin.

I took a deep breath, channeling all the emotions I had practiced. "What are you doing here?" I said, my voice edged with frustration and panic. "You're supposed to be gone! You—you're not allowed to be here!"

Zaya, playing the role of the spy, shot me a smirk, her voice low and lazy. "I didn't think you'd mind. It's just a window."

"A window?!" I snapped, crossing my arms and glaring down at her. "You're not supposed to be climbing into the windows of princesses!"

She raised an eyebrow, completely unbothered by my outburst. "Relax, princess. I'm not here for you."

Her voice was so flat, so cool, that it almost threw me off. I could feel the tension rising between us, but I had to keep the scene moving. "Then why are you here? Spying on me? Is that it?"

"I told you, I'm not interested in you," Zaya responded, her eyes flicking up to meet mine with a glint of amusement. "But your palace is in the way of my job, and I can't do that job if you keep yelling at me."

I was supposed to be annoyed, flustered by her nonchalance, and in this moment, it wasn't hard to play the part.

"My palace?!" I huffed, leaning out of the imaginary window to get closer to her. "This is my home, not some obstacle for you to—"

Suddenly, Zaya pretended to stumble back, as if the imaginary ledge she was standing on had shifted. "You keep leaning out like that, princess, and I might have to catch you."

I narrowed my eyes, refusing to break character. "You couldn't catch me if you tried."

Zaya let out a laugh, and the room seemed to lighten for a second. It wasn't in the script, but it worked.

"You really think I care enough to catch you?" she teased, taking a step closer to the imaginary window. "Besides, you'd probably bite my head off the second I saved you."

I leaned back inside the imaginary window, trying to keep the frustration in my voice real. "Maybe I wouldn't need saving if you weren't lurking around my palace like a shadow."

She gave me a mocking salute. "Well, good thing I don't take orders from you."

It was a bit chaotic, the back-and-forth, the way we were playing off each other. And yet, it was working.

The room had fallen completely silent, the producers watching us with rapt attention. I could feel the energy between Zaya and me building, the tension growing with each sarcastic comment, each defiant look.

I stepped back from the window, throwing my hands in the air. "You are the most infuriating person I have ever met!"

Zaya tilted her head, her expression amused but still unreadable. "Glad to know I leave an impression."

For a split second, I felt like laughing. It wasn't in the script, but this chaotic argument felt real, like something you'd actually say to someone who was driving you insane. I had to fight to stay in character, biting my lip to keep from breaking.

The scene continued, with me huffing and puffing about the ridiculousness of a spy sneaking into a palace like it was no big deal, and Zaya cool, calm, and collected continuing to play it off like it was just another day at work.

The banter, the tension, the way we were moving around each other it all felt so natural, like we were actually having this argument in some alternate universe where I was a princess and she was a spy.

Finally, the scene reached its end. I stood there, breathing hard, trying to calm myself after the heated exchange.

Zaya, of course, looked completely unfazed, like she hadn't just been arguing with me in front of a room full of people.

There was a long pause. The director, who had been watching with wide eyes, stood up from his seat. He clapped his hands together, grinning from ear to ear.

"That was absolutely great!" he exclaimed, his voice ringing through the room. "Layla, you will take the role of the princess!"

My heart skipped a beat. I blinked, trying to process his words. I had gotten the role. It wasn't just an audition anymore it was real.

Zaya looked at me from across the room, her expression still cool, but there was something in her eyes, a flicker of acknowledgment, like she knew I had earned it.

I had done it.

I was going to be the princess.