"Su'Darath!" He called loudly, drawing everyone's attention to the pair of siblings who were creeping close to the walls of the barracks.
Their intention was to remain unheard and unseen, but of course, the radiance of the two siblings was so otherworldly that it was inevitable to be noticed.
Halen groaned with dread as his instructor began waving his large arms toward him.
"That is a boy of ten who could best the lot of you with his eyes closed."
Verinia smothered a laugh as her brother ducked behind her to hide and began tugging the sleeves of her tunic. "Quick, quick! While he's reeling on."
"Come, my prince, and show these gutless toads true swordsmanship."
Sur Louren picked up two staulten swords in his hands and was looking at Verinia steadily, as if expecting Halen to simply reappear and begin sparring with him.
That was precisely what the boy prince did, dragging his feet and grumbling until the supportive leather straps were tied to his small wrists. He took one of the heavy swords and began to turn it in circles.
The First Princess left them to their knight's business in the practice grounds in favour of more delicate activities, namely, finalising preparations for the upcoming ball.
It seemed wherever there could be, there was something to be done, and she didn't remember ever putting so much effort into an event for any of her other siblings.
Was it tiresome to do things for Kaelbi? Was she being biased?
Of course she was. Verinia would be the first to admit to herself that she didn't like Kaelbi or his mother the most.
Some of the harem's concubines were troublesome enough, but with the addition of Viola Grandpire amongst them, she couldn't imagine what fresh Hells would come about.
The princess spent her day in a fuss, ambling to and fro with Cera Dionar and the Su'ira Chamberlain, who had assisted her restlessly from the very beginning.
With most of the burden being shouldered by them, Verinia decided to take the time and write the invitations for the feast in her own hand.
The more she looked at the guest list, however, the more tedious the task seemed, to the point where she wished she could proclaim illiteracy and call it a day.
Viola Grandpire had given her a list of the guests she wanted to invite that very morning, amongst which was a name Verinia never thought she'd see again under such circumstances.
"The Empress of Ginzai?" She had held the parchment in her hand, looking between the written name and the smug woman who had been drinking tea in her room.
Viola had smiled. "Lysirea is a dear friend. She'll be happy to celebrate my son's cycle with us."
Lysirea.
She had called the empress by her name, and of course she did. After all, weren't the two of them the closest of friends with her mother once?
That had been before the crown prince of Ginzai had swept in to take the young Lysirea Darienis away, having sung the praises of her beauty from one end of Tressthei to the other.
It had been so long since Verinia had seen the empress. The last time that she had come to visit her mother, Verinia had been six turns of age.
For some reason, as she sat down to write, a feeling of satisfaction began growing within her chest.
The visit of the Empress Lysirea would be a time for discovery and intrigue, she was convinced. Despite the threatening nature of Viola having invited the woman, she knew Beroni's wheel of fate would surely turn in her favour.
The only thing Verinia was required to ensure was that her brother would have a clear path to the throne. Beyond that task, she had little interest in her father's blunders, or Viola's, for that matter.
As she was working on the invitations in the library, thunder rolled through the sky and the blue expanse seemed to disappear in an instant.
Rain began to patter on the glass panes of the windows and in the distance, from her view, the sea rose to batter against the jagged walls of the fjord as if in mourning.
Her hand trembled. Verinia released the kohl pen as a staggering pain flashed through her head and blinded her eyes.
"Narunel's serpents." She placed both palms over her eyes in hopes of soothing the ache.
It always happened that whenever there was a storm, she would suffer crippling migraines until the weather settled.
With unsteady legs and a clutching hand to the table's edge, she stood from her seat. The doors of the library seemed to tilt and fall in her eyes. Books seemed to fly away from their shelves as though invisible hands were throwing them all over the library. Her cheeks puffed up with nausea.
The pain seemed to get worse and worse with every passing moment. Even with her eyes closed, she felt as though she were standing on a ship in the battering sea.
"I thought you would be here." Sur Ka'iser's gruff voice met her ears as brief reprieve from her torment. Verinia slit her eyes open and regretted it instantly. The image of him danced and split into three until she felt bile begin to burn her throat. "Drink."
She wordlessly took the small bottle from his hand, no doubt a draught sent by Su'ni Anthipeia to ease her sorrows.
The sweet, viscous potion soothed her insides tenderly, and she instantly began to feel much better. Sur Ka'iser assisted her in finding her seat once again and the princess collapsed into it in a heap of untidiness.
"How is it this time?"
"I see three of you and I feel as though my head has been cracked opened for the Vulture's Feast." The princess held her head in her hands.
The Vulture's Feast was a dark, obsolete practice from the old world. It was a method of execution reserved for those who committed treason by attempted regicide. The criminal would be shackled, made to bleed, and then put in a cage with vultures in it.
Nothing else needed to be said of that. It was primitive and repulsive.