"Better yet, instead of simply deciding whether or not to believe my words, remind me once again, who was it that assaulted me, slapped my face, and forcibly made my blindfold fall, causing me to make direct eye contact with you, Your Highness?" I let the words sink in, letting them draw out the weight of their meaning. "I ask this because it seems your brother has utterly failed to comprehend the facts correctly. It's almost as if His Highness has been so overwhelmed by everything that's transpired that the actual events have become distorted, lost within his shock, twisted in his own confusion."
She gasped sharply, the air caught in her throat as though the very accusation took her by surprise, a moment of sheer disbelief crossing her face. "It... it was not assault!" Her voice trembled, barely a whisper at first, her eyes wide in utter disbelief, as if the very thought of her actions being labeled as assault was something far beyond her comprehension, something she couldn't possibly fathom.
I raised an eyebrow slightly, maintaining my composure, my voice calm and even. "Oh? So, you don't know the meaning of the word 'assault,' Your Highness? That's two errors in just one sentence. I could, of course, offer a brief explanation to help clarify, in case you're struggling with the term. Or perhaps I could take you to the library, where I'm sure you'll find an extensive selection of dictionaries. Reading, after all, is highly beneficial for the mind, don't you think? I'm sure the definition would be quite clear if you just looked it up. I'd be happy to help you understand it."
Her glare intensified, a deep flush of indignation spreading across her cheeks. "Are you calling me dumb?" she demanded, her voice rising with anger, sharp as a dagger, her words cutting through the tension that had already filled the air. The challenge in her tone was unmistakable, directed at me with all the fury she could muster, her eyes blazing with fury as she bristled at the insinuation.
I tilted my head slightly, my expression unchanging, cold and deliberate. "It seems, Your Highness, that you're struggling with understanding basic conversation. When did I ever say you were dumb? It's highly unethical to put words into someone else's mouth, to manipulate their words and twist them to make them look guilty—especially when the only reason you're doing it is because you cannot bring yourself to admit to the mistake you've made. This kind of behavior is unbecoming, particularly for someone of your rank, Your Royal Highness." I allowed the words to hang in the air, my tone calm but carrying an undeniable weight.
She stood a little straighter, her voice sharp and challenging as she leaned in. "There are little children all over the Kingdom who look up to you as a role model. You should be exhaling ethical behavior, setting a proper example for the future of our Kingdom. That's what a good example does. You should be showing others how to handle themselves with dignity. Letting your emotions control you is neither wise nor ladylike." She almost spat the words at me, her tone dripping with judgment, as if she were the ultimate authority on what was appropriate. "Her Majesty, however, is the epitome of ethics in this Kingdom. She's the one you should follow, just as I do."
I held her gaze, unblinking, my voice deadly calm as I replied. "I am indeed a model figure," I said slowly, my voice dripping with the faintest hint of venom. "But it seems that it's not quite showing, is it?" The words left my mouth with a soft but deliberate bite, the undercurrent of sarcasm unmistakable.
Her eyes narrowed, the tension rising in the air as her cheeks flushed with fury. She hissed through her teeth, her voice low and dangerous. "What do you mean by that?" she demanded, the challenge in her words clear, her anger threatening to boil over.
"Do you truly think that acting like a bully, pushing others around, is a good example to set, Your Highness?" I asked, my tone unwavering, each word calculated and deliberate, designed to hit the mark. "Is that the kind of Kingdom you want to build? A Kingdom where children are bullied by those with a superiority complex, by those who think they can get away with treating others poorly, for things they never even did?" I let the words linger in the air, letting them sink into the silence that followed.
She gasped, her breath catching in her throat, her face twisting in disbelief as her hands clenched into fists at her sides. "Are you saying I have a superiority complex?" she demanded, her voice rising in shock, as though the mere suggestion was too much to bear.
I raised an eyebrow, feigning innocence, though my expression was anything but. "Now you agree with me? You're acknowledging that you've been bullying me for something I didn't do? Because that's exactly what I said—the people who behave this way have a superiority complex. And now, you're asking if I called you that. Are you placing yourself in that position, Your Highness?" I asked, offering her a soft, almost innocent smile, the kind that only seemed to fuel her rage further.
"You damned little—"
"Enough!" The Queen's voice rang out, loud and commanding, cutting through the rising tension like a knife. Ismene flinched slightly at the sound of her mother's voice, but I stood my ground, unaffected by her outburst. "You need to take a walk, daughter. Go clear your mind."
"I don't need to breathe," Ismene spat back, her frustration mounting. "I need to—"
"You will breathe," the Queen insisted, her voice unwavering, the finality of her command leaving no room for argument. "Listen to me, and leave. Go for a walk around the garden, have some tea, do whatever you need to calm yourself down. You've said enough for today."
"But she—"
"Our sister did nothing wrong!" Rai and Aeneas's voices rang out in perfect unison, surprising both Ismene and me with the force of their support. I almost gasped in shock at their unexpected backing, their words landing like a shield between me and Ismene.
"She simply defended herself against your attacks with grace," Aeneas added, his voice calm and composed, though his words were firm, filled with a quiet strength.
"You should never resort to physical aggression when your pride is wounded, Princess," Rai continued, his tone admonishing, yet carrying the weight of wisdom. "Especially not when you can't win in an argument. Don't forget that Thya is part of House D'Arcy. If you harm her, you harm all of us, and House D'Arcy." His words were a heavy reminder, a warning that carried the full force of their meaning.
Ismene gulped audibly, her face draining of color as Rai's words settled heavily in her mind. "Rai, I didn't... I didn't mean to—"
"You did everything with full awareness, Princess," Rai groaned, his voice filled with exasperation. "From the way you kept bullying her with your arrogance, to how you slapped her and forced her to make eye contact—don't even try to claim that you didn't intend it. No one's going to believe that."
"I'm sorry, Rai," Ismene whispered, her voice small and tremulous, the weight of her actions finally sinking in, her pride crumbling beneath the realization of what she'd done.
"It's not me you should be apologizing to, Your Highness," Rai scoffed, his voice dripping with disbelief, his frustration palpable.
A long, uncomfortable silence followed, stretching out between us like a chasm. The tension hung in the air, thick and suffocating, as all eyes turned to me, waiting. I cleared my throat, the sound sharp and cutting through the quiet like a blade. "Can we move on to the task for the day, Your Majesty?" I asked, my voice smooth, almost mechanical, as I shifted the focus away from the uncomfortable situation. "You asked me to go first, and I'm more than happy to comply. What instruments do we have to choose from?"
The Queen paused for a moment, clearly relieved that I had shifted the focus away from the uncomfortable situation. She seemed grateful that I hadn't forced an apology from Ismene, knowing it would be insincere, and likely lead to yet another tantrum. "Piano, Cello, Violin, Guitar, and Bamboo Flute," she replied, her tone softer, more composed now that the heat of the moment had passed.
"Oh?" I mused, my curiosity piqued as I glanced over the selection of instruments available to me, my mind already turning, thinking of which would best suit the moment, the atmosphere, and my mood.