NYTI Chapter 04: Saintess and the Royals (1)
A young woman is deep in concentration as the wind whips around, pushing some of the flowers away from the twigs and causing others to sway in the wind's direction.
The vibrant colors of the petals create a captivating spectacle as they dance in the air, especially against the dark sky. The maiden peered out the window, taking in the tranquil surroundings. She seemed dazed, her eyes lost in thin air.
"Lady? Saintess?" A man's voice calls out to get her attention.
She snaps out of dazing off and turns her head to look at the person who was calling her. She saw a tall, well-dressed gentleman with a concerned expression on his face. She hesitated for a moment, but nonetheless, she approached him, as she felt intrigued.
"Yes," she uttered, looking at the man.
"The clergy seeks your presence in the reading area for prophecy." The woman's heart skipped a beat at the mention of the room for prophecy. It was a glimmer of hope amidst the chaos, a chance to find some answers or guidance in this tumultuous time.
Despite hating having to see the clergy with a newfound determination, she nodded at the man and followed him towards the reading area, her mind filled with anticipation and curiosity.
The door was opened for her as soon as she arrived in front of the door of the said room. When she entered, the aroma of antiquated books and incense immediately engulfed her. The room was dimly lit, with shelves upon shelves of weathered tomes lining the walls, their spines worn from years of use. In the middle of the room was a jade slab in the shape of an open book, floating.
As she approached the floating jade slab, she couldn't help but marvel at its ethereal beauty. Intricate carvings adorned its surface, depicting scenes from ancient civilizations and mythical creatures. The soft glow emanating from the slab seemed to beckon her closer, inviting her to uncover the secrets it held within its mystical pages.
There are several people in the room as she looks around. The only ones that are there are a few of the Cardinals and the Pope.
"I have been informed of your desire to speak with me." She speaks as she looks at the floating stone slab.
"Yes, as you can see, the jade slab is glowing," the Cardinal answers.
The jade slab was glowing, indicating only one thing: there is a prophecy that is about to be bestowed.
She glanced at the jade slab, then looked at the Cardinal, waiting for what else he was going to say.
"Our God, Blank, is going to bestow a new prophecy." He spoke, then glanced at the jade slab, giving her a meaningful look before looking at the others present in the room.
"We should prepare to receive the prophecy," he ordered.
She smiled and simply said, "I understand, then I will leave and start preparing for the ceremony."
She left the room with the clergy to prepare for the ceremony. Servants welcomed her as she entered her chamber. They started to tend to her, wash her up, change her into her ceremonial robe, and style her hair.
"Then we will call you once the ceremony starts." A priestess said to leave the room with the servant, leaving the saintess alone in the room.
She looked at her reflection in the mirror. It feels like a reflection of a mirage. She couldn't believe that this day had arrived after a long time of waiting and anticipation. As she gazed at her reflection, she couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through her veins. The weight of her responsibilities as a saintess on her shoulders was once being reminded to her, but she knew she was ready to fulfill her divine purpose.
The old European castle, perched on a grassy knoll, displayed centuries of history and imperial splendor. The castle's entrance was a cobblestone courtyard encircled by ivy-covered walls and a drawbridge. The aroma of blooming roses and pine trees filled the air, creating an eerie atmosphere. As one descended lower inside the castle, stained glass windows depicting knights and love stories showed themselves. The banquet hall featured a high ceiling and was lavishly decorated with magnificent chandeliers, luxurious furnishings, and deep velvet drapes. The coats of arms of great families were adorning a big stone fireplace.
Climbing the spiral staircase brought you to the royal family's luxurious apartments, which included a four-poster bed, embroidered textiles, and a silk canopy. A harp stood in a corner, its cords seemingly muttering ancient melodies. The castle's gardens were meticulously planned, with magnificent statues, hedges, and flowers. Cobblestone paths lead to peaceful spots where fountains murmured stories of long-forgotten romances.
As the sun began to set, the castle transformed into a beautiful image, with intricately carved towers and turrets forming silhouettes against the vivid canvas of the evening sky.
As the heavy, ornate doors of the palace swung open with a creak, Empress Larissa stepped into the secret heart of regality—the rose garden, otherwise known as the Empress' sanctum. A cascade of colors greeted her senses as the evening sun dipped below the horizon, setting the sprawling garden ablaze in a tapestry of gold and crimson. The air, thick with the intoxicating perfume of a thousand roses, wrapped around her like a silken shroud. She looks at the beautiful picture that the canvas called the sky is showing as the sun sets.
"It's almost like heaven is bidding me a good day ahead," she says to herself as she walks on the garden's pathway made with cobblestones adorned by smoothened marble.
Empress Larissa's footsteps, softened by the plushness of the garden's mossy path, led her deeper into this living poetry. Overhead, arc trellises adorned with cascading blooms formed a natural canopy, filtering the night sky into a gentle, star-strewn mosaic. The arc trellises have bougainvillea growing on them, making the garden seem so magical, like a place for fairies and nature spirits, at least, just like how tales have described their homes.
As the Empress makes her way to the gazebo, a gentle blow of wind brings a fragrant scent from the blooming flowers in the garden, which may be called a rose garden, but the place is a sanctuary of various flowers that the Empress adores. Their intoxicating scent filled the air.
"Marvelous," she said as she looked around at the terrific sight of the garden gazebo. She looks at the lavish selection of food and pastries on the circular table of the gazebo.
The question hung in the air for a moment, as if the spirits themselves were contemplating the answer. The Empress couldn't help but wonder if the Emperor's absence was due to his busy schedule or perhaps a deliberate choice to allow her some solitude.
"The Emperor has sent word that he would be a bit late for your dinner together, Your Highness," the Empress' butler, Abraham, answered as soon as he received the word.
"I see, then I guess I'll have some tea for now," the Empress said, settling back into her chair with a sigh. She couldn't help but feel a pang of disappointment, hoping for a quiet evening in the company of her beloved. Nonetheless, she understood the demands of his position and resolved to make the most of her solitude.
The maid served her a cup of marshmallow root tea. The Empress took a sip, savoring the soothing warmth that spread through her body.
She looks at the sky. As the sun sets, it lights up the sky, casting warm, golden shadows over the horizon. Ethereal cotton candy wisps catch fire around the margins of clouds. With cosmic grace, the sky, a vast expanse of cerulean and lavender, cradles the sun's descent.
Everything becomes a brilliant tableau as the final rays of sunlight reach across the landscape. Autumnal-colored trees shimmer in the dying light, leaving lyrical shadows on the land below.
As the sun dips lower, it becomes a mere sliver on the horizon, creating a final, spectacular spectacle. The clouds, now tinged with purple and indigo, reflect the celestial drama happening above. Stars appear, little pinpricks of light punctuating the darkening canvas.
The air grows cooler, carrying a hint of anticipation for the night ahead. Nature seems to hold its breath, as if in awe of the sun's departure. And as darkness settles in, the world transforms into a mystical realm, where dreams and imagination take flight under the moon's gentle glow.
Emperor Leonhardt, resplendent in his royal regalia, walked briskly through the meticulously manicured pathways, the train of his crimson robe trailing behind him like a regal comet. The soft rustle of silk announced his arrival at the gazebo, where the Empress was waiting with an air of graceful patience. Her gown, adorned with delicate lace, seemed to mirror the intricate patterns of the garden that surrounded them.
"Forgive my tardiness, my love." Leonhardt apologized with a gallant bow, his eyes holding a trace of remorse as he took his seat opposite the empress. "Affairs of the empire detained me longer than anticipated."
Larissa, her expression softened by the flickering candlelight, offered a serene smile. "No apologies are needed, my Emperor. The garden is a symphony of delights, and I had the company of the nightingales to keep me entertained."
The Emperor simply smiled back, glad that she was not bored waiting for him. He signaled the servants to leave them alone as they shared a meal.
As the servants discreetly served the first course, the Emperor and Empress engaged in a dance of words as delightful as the evening breeze. Leonhardt, renowned for his strategic mind on the battlefield, found himself charmed by Larissa's wit and grace. The garden now bears witness to an intimate exchange between two souls bound by duty and love.
Under the gazebo's ornate roof, surrounded by the blossoms of jasmine and roses, time seemed to slow. The Emperor, often burdened by the weight of the empire, found solace in the laughter and warmth that emanated from this clandestine dinner. Larissa's eyes sparkled like stars, and Leonhardt was reminded that, amidst the responsibilities of the throne, moments like these were the jewels of their shared kingdom.
As the moon ascended into the velvety sky, casting a silvery glow upon the garden, the Emperor and Empress lingered in the gazebo. With each shared glance and whispered exchange, the imperial couple reaffirmed a bond that surpassed the intricacies of courtly affairs—a bond woven within the petals of the garden they called their own.