Before me stood a princess, her countenance a delicate blend of grace and poise. She was often likened to a deity, with an otherworldly quality that set her apart. Her silver hair cascaded in shimmering waves, reflecting the moonlight like a silken waterfall. Her elegantly elongated ears marked her unmistakably as an elf of noble lineage. There was an air of serene authority about her, a regal presence that commanded attention.
"Your Grace," I greeted, my voice carrying a note of deference.
"Lady Idrish Aeric." Her voice was like a melodic whisper as she offered a gentle bow. Her movements were fluid, exuding the refinement and dignity that one would expect from royalty. Extending her right hand, she smiled with an innate elegance that seemed to radiate from within.
I couldn't help but admire the perfection of her fingers—smooth, unblemished, the embodiment of aristocracy. After a moment's pause, I returned my gaze to her exquisite face, a study in beauty and poise. Accepting her hand, I offered a restrained shake, feeling the soft warmth of her touch against my palm. "I a—am Idrish Aeric, Your Grace."
"House Flos, the second region, the kingdom of vines and agriculture... Princess Lanuza Flos." Her introduction had a rhythmic quality, a melodic lilt that seemed to echo the harmony of the natural world she hailed from.
In my experience, I've developed a keen sense for discerning a person's nature upon first meeting. My intuition has rarely steered me wrong. And in the presence of Princess Lanuza, I felt a certain aura of benevolence emanating from her. Beyond her physical appearance, her demeanor exuded kindness and genuine goodwill.
"In the process of adjusting, Lady Idrish?" Her voice was soft, a soothing murmur that seemed to blend seamlessly with the rustling leaves and the distant melody of elven music. Her gaze was fixed on the tranquil expanse of the seventh region's woods, the moonlight casting a silver sheen on her hair.
Finding the appropriate response proved to be a delicate task. Despite my relatively comfortable stay within House Calore, an intangible barrier separated me from the rest of the world. It was a barrier forged by circumstance, one that I couldn't easily dismantle. In the face of this, my foremost defense was a resolute self-sufficiency—I couldn't afford to reveal any vulnerability.
"I think I am doing well. Whatever our king requires, I am in no position to contest," I replied, my gaze averted as I spoke. While I acknowledged the aura of kindness that surrounded Lanuza, my guarded nature prompted me to withhold complete transparency. Her upbeat demeanor was certainly appreciated, but a full revelation wasn't in the cards.
In essence, this was a strategic choice—a means of protection. Given my position as an elf of lower status, I had to tread cautiously. Acts of apparent goodwill could be either sincere or calculated, designed to ensnare me.
"To change this ranking system isn't a simple task," Lanuza remarked with a hint of disappointment, her sigh carrying the weight of her sentiments. There was an inherent discord between the ideal world she envisioned and the reality she encountered. Despite her efforts to conceal it, an undercurrent of disquiet lingered beneath her composed facade—a veneer both convincing and disconcerting.
"Assume the role of a queen who champions the majority. Then strive to reshape governance and alter the system, Your Grace," I suggested aloud, feigning ignorance of the Feluns and their administration policies. The proposition hung in the air—an abstract notion that held the promise of change.
Yet, there are moments when innocence is a form of naivety. While I recognized that ignorance or lack of intent couldn't be a legal defense, I contended that such naivety might preclude rash judgments or misguided betrayal.
"It's not as straightforward as it may seem, Idrish," Lanuza said with a soft smile, as though she detected a certain quality within me that warranted her trust. Her smile extended to her eyes, creating an aura of warmth and authenticity. "Our house can't simply emulate the Feluns. Despite the second region's enduring peace over centuries, we aspire to equity and fairness for all. There still exist those who live without titles or rank, experiencing a different kind of freedom, a unique tranquility."
I nodded, signaling my understanding and inviting her to continue as I absorbed her words in contemplative silence.
"House Calore has a chance to surpass the Feluns if the seventh's delegation emerges victorious in the Solstice and Equinox Arena. That opportunity might present itself this winter, altering the course of the game and the fate of everyone involved."
As her words settled into my consciousness, a frown tugged at my brows. There was an underlying intent in her words, a message she wished to convey—a topic that seemed to revolve around me.
"Your Grace, how can House Calore secure the majority's support? How can they win the arena?" The directness of my question reflected my instinct that there was more to this conversation than met the eye.
Her gaze remained fixed on mine, her eyes searching the depths of my own. Her response was measured, delivered with an air of candid sincerity. "Marry the prince of the seventh. Represent our house in the arena."
There it was—the revelation I had been anticipating. The philosophy underlying my marriage to Prince Killan, the truth of my purpose within House Calore, was finally laid bare. In the king's estimation, I was the optimal bride for his son—an avenue to safeguarding him from the perils of the arena, a last-ditch effort to ensure his survival.
A command issued by the queen—my authority, my resources—to save House Calore from the brink.
As I absorbed the gravity of her words, my breath caught in my throat. A veil of melancholy seemed to settle over her features, casting a shadow over what had likely been a cherished hope.
"I wish, Lady Idrish, that we had an alternative path, that we could call off this wedding. But it seems this is our only chance to salvage the majority's standing. You must secure victory in the Winter Arena and unite with Prince Killan."
A tumult of emotions swirled within me as I listened to Princess Lanuza, a complex fusion of resignation and indignation. Who was I to defy a royal decree? The weight of my obligations pressed upon me, making me feel as though I were trapped in an inescapable web.
A stifled whimper escaped me, the sting of betrayal cutting deeper than I'd anticipated. The seventh house had outmaneuvered me, a pawn in a game whose rules I had only begun to understand. The inevitability of casualties, of sacrifices made for the sake of a greater cause, had long been clear to me.
Yet, even with the knowledge that this outcome was inevitable, hearing it confirmed sent a jolt of pain through my heart.
"In my heart, I suppose I've always known. A royal, after all, will always be treated as a royal. The divide between the privileged and the oppressed runs deep," I muttered sardonically, bitterness tingeing my words.
Princess Lanuza regarded me with empathy, her gaze filled with understanding. "It's not a simple decision, Lady Idrish, but you possess the means to bring an end to this cycle. Since you—"
"No, Your Grace, there's no need to convince me to wed the prince and enter the arena. If it were up to me, I would do it. Family motto or not, it won't save me. House, people, honor—empty words that have never truly represented our monarchy."
A sigh of relief escaped my lips, a small release of the weight that had settled on my chest. Having voiced my thoughts, I offered a respectful nod to the princess, sensing that our conversation had reached its natural conclusion. With a final wordless acknowledgment, I took my leave, hurrying away from the disheartening truth she had shared.
As I retreated, I crossed paths with a figure entering the room. It was Killan, his entrance accompanied by an expression of surprise as he caught sight of me. He began to utter something, but a glare laden with annoyance silenced his words, leaving him momentarily speechless.
Without sparing him a second glance, I quickened my pace, making my way to my chamber. The heavy door swung shut behind me with a resounding thud, enveloping me in a cocoon of solitude. Collapsing onto the plush mattress, I succumbed to the exhaustion that had crept over me.
Time slipped away, moments merging into a blur. Before I knew it, the landscape of wakefulness shifted, and I was drawn into the realm of dreams.
***
The passage of three days was marked by a whirlwind of activities. Rehearsals for the impending wedding ceremony, my newfound responsibilities as a princess of the Seventh Kingdom, including my role alongside Prince Killan, and the looming possibility of my participation in the arena—all of these commitments had kept me thoroughly occupied.
The rapid succession of days left me with barely enough time to register their passing. My thoughts were ceaselessly occupied with my siblings and the measures I could undertake to ensure their future happiness and security in my absence. Their well-being was paramount; nothing else held more significance.
Amidst the flurry of preparations, a young lady meticulously tightened the corset of my dress, the gentle pressure accentuating the curve of my waist. The room was adorned with exquisite blue and purple hydrangeas and delicate bulb roses, an opulent setting for the momentous occasion that awaited.
Atop my head rested the renowned tiara, a regal piece encrusted with black diamonds—a gift from the former monarch herself, the very individual I stood accused of having taken the life of. I had braided my hair behind my head, ensuring that my features remained visible beneath the white veil and the glimmering crystals.
The form-fitting blue dress had been tailored specifically for a Caloran bride—me, a sacrificial lamb in this grand theater. The fabric traced every contour, the design a silent testament to the role I was expected to play.
With the grand doors swung open, revealing the aisle ahead, my heart seemed to thud against my chest with a resounding urgency. The length of the carpeted path was adorned with fresh wildflowers and ornate trinkets meticulously placed by the skilled hands of the attending handmaidens.
The traditional elven music resonated in the air as I began my walk down the aisle. The sight of the assembled guests, every one of them rising to their feet, filled me with a blend of awe and trepidation. However, as my gaze swept across the faces, I realized that they were all strangers—a sea of unfamiliar human features.
The melody of the music accompanied my every step, my heart beating in rhythm with its cadence. The sensation of a lump forming in my throat felt as though it were slowly suffocating me, an emotional reaction to the weight of the moment.
At the end of the aisle stood Killan, clutching a dowry chest—the traditional offering of elf males to their brides. His expression remained resolute, unyielding, and his obsidian eyes bore into me with a penetrating gaze. There was a curious note in his demeanor, as if he were seeking something beyond what was visible on the surface.
As I advanced, I deliberately avoided direct eye contact. The intensity of his gaze was disconcerting, his intent unsettling. In this moment, my instinct was to protect myself, to conceal the depths of my soul from his scrutiny. There was an unspoken understanding between us, a secret that I dared not let him unearth. There were circumstances, scenarios, in which I could marry him. There was a possibility of entering the competition, of replacing him.
And then, finally, I stood before him, my heart pounding within my chest, the rapid rhythm matching the nervous flutter in my stomach. His dark eyes locked onto mine with a weightiness that bespoke a gravity beneath the surface. The dowry chest was held firmly in his grasp, its contents a tantalizing mystery.
"You don't have to go through with this," he whispered, his voice carrying a blend of assurance and vulnerability. "Tell me the truth about the queen's death, and it can all end. You and your siblings can be spared."
Despite the temptation, I shook my head, resolute. Succumbing to his demand would only further complicate the intricate web of power struggles and allegiances among the kingdoms. The true nature of the object in my possession—the item they sought—would not be relinquished so easily. Not to him, nor to anyone else.
My innocence in the queen's demise was overshadowed by the enigmatic possession that had made me a target.
"I'm accused of the queen's murder, and her legacy now rests in my hands," I declared, my voice steady. My grip tightened on the dowry chest, its cool surface sending a shiver up my spine.
"This is what you desire, isn't it? This is what you truly want. I'll take your place in the winter arena. I'll strive to win for your house, or I'll face death trying. Either way, you'll be rid of me, and you can marry the princess."
For a moment, his countenance seemed to falter, his composure momentarily shaken. An unspoken exchange passed between us, a negotiation conducted through unspoken words and unyielding gazes. And then, he released his hold on the dowry chest, allowing it to slip from his fingers.
"I'll take it, and whatever lies within this chest, under one condition," he replied, his tone soft but earnest.
Caught in his gaze, I raised an eyebrow in question. "What condition?"
A flicker of emotion danced across his eyes, a blend of amusement and melancholy. "Watch over Poras and Cali. Ensure they have proper meals, offer them decent employment."
Relief and gratitude welled within me, the weight of my responsibilities slightly eased. "Thank you."
And with that, the conversation seemed to reach its natural conclusion. Prince Killan retreated, the moment suspended between us fading into the past. The wedding ceremony continued, an oath exchanged on the paper altar of vows before I unlocked the dowry chest, signifying our embrace of the roles of husband and wife.
The chest, when opened, revealed a distinct object—an emblem of significance. A pair of rings encircled by something metallic, locked away from prying eyes. A symbol of House Felun—the Seventh House—adorned the chest, its significance not lost on anyone present.
As Prince Killan approached, his words reverberated, guiding my understanding. "You'll need this," he affirmed, retrieving a necklace that had been concealed within the chest.
At this juncture, words had grown scarce between us, our conversation tapering into silence. This marked the commencement of my inexorable march towards an uncertain fate—a slow and painful journey that began with this wedding.
The ceremony proceeded, and a wave of applause erupted from the gathering as Prince Killan secured the necklace around my neck. Princess Lanuza was a silent observer, her expression an enigmatic blend of cheerfulness tinged with the bittersweet memory of something long buried—an ominous spear, a target unidentified.
To her expectant gaze, I offered a nonchalant shrug, my demeanor a facade of indifference. My destiny had been sealed, the path laid out before me, and my time was dwindling. Come morning, I might no longer exist within these walls.
Prepared to enter the arena, I was resolute in my determination to safeguard my siblings. Success or failure, life or death, I would face whatever awaited me, armed with the hope that my actions could spare Poras and Cali the same grim destiny that awaited me.