The clearance of the billows of regret came slower than I thought, hazy memories flashing more beautifully than reality. I lean on the balcony, enjoying the rare balmy weather that I am sure would relapse to rain. For some reason, the skies have been pouring constantly these 3 past month, with the air feeling colder ever since then, a progressive trend in the loss of heat ever since I could remember.
A future so concerning, some people say God's wrath is upon us.
Out of nowhere, the sound of a door opening reverberated, I turn to the source only to see an unexpected, and certainly unpleasant visitor, princess Ingrid. She come chaperoned with her trusted lady in waiting, Caryne and a knight dressed in black, Edvard.
A man who has been on her side even before the sealing kiss of the prince Blaise. He is a man of few words, known for only answering shortly unless it is my dear sister who asks. Hair long enough to be tied with a ribbon that is femininely designed. Something I remembered my sister used to wear as a child.
So obvious, it's a surprise how the rumors are so subdued.
I nearly feel bad for prince Blaise. For the image my mother tried making me possess, I'd say the title female Fatale would be more befitting of my older sister. With the sway of princess Ingrid's right hand. the knight stand back and stay outside. On the other hand the lady in waiting. Caryne follows her inside. I frown but maintain a pleasant smile. They came with a purpose, and now there's double the attack power to defend against.
The skies above sours with an appalling grayness, covered in the the bombardment of clouds, a premonition that rain is sure to come. I retreated within the room and closed off my yearning for the blazing boldness of orange, or the romantic guise of a pink horizon, or even the constant freedom of blue, anything but this haunting grey. The rumble of the skies snap me out of my personal feelings and summoned the concern my bloodline is obligated to have for its people.
"The people are suffering from failed harvest. Have your mother persuade those henchmen lovers of her to donate supplies in massive quantities." Before I could even inquire about the purpose of her arrival, princess Ingrid already spilled the beans and in a very direct manner at that. The urge to scowl once more plagues me, but I swallowed it to maintain a civil conversation.
Without minding her rudeness, I gesture to the table and pull both chairs before sitting on the one closer to the window. Conversations are always easier to have when both are seated on not in the fear of people leaving midway. A part of me want to claim such is the reason behind it, but it had more to do with the glare from the knight peeking outside.
Taking up my offer, princess Ingrid swiftly perch on the cushioned chair that was decorated with intricate carvings of a rose. We sat there with our hands folded and the sleeve of our minds full of cards. Agitated green eyes meeting the ambiguousness of my purplish-blue ones. If only victory could be decided with poise alone.
"Do you not keep up with the court? Months ago the king enforced an edict that practically obligates nobles into charity. What sort of authority does the royal mistress have that a king does not?"
That initially calming and now depressing sound of rain resounded following my words. Another day of rain. Another hurdle for the survival of crops. Another possible flood. What are we to do with this slowly starved and water-robbed country? I patiently faced the princess in front of me, women or not, royal blood still flows through our veins. It is only right we discuss this.
However, the serious conversation accompanied by properness and open-minded stance didn't come. Instead, I am ambushed with complaints and knives of accusations. Sometimes I wonder, why those in lower positions are cornered to do the dirty deed, shouldn't those with intent be the ones to execute it? It must be nice to be able to do anything without risks.
"With the prolonged period of bad harvest, the reserves have been sucked out. I have already done my part by requesting Blaise for help, however, he has his hands tied due to the volcanic eruption in the Creon empire. You two have sponged off our kingdom's wealth for 16 years, do your part as royals now."
I slowly laid my hands on the table, heels stepping on the other feet under the table. How could I not feel guilt over not being able to help them? But whether my mother seduced them or not, our country is doomed. The world as we know it is turning colder, and we're on the north which is even more influenced to the point it wouldn't be a surprise if the lake froze tomorrow.
Once more I am reminded of the man, thinking back the waters he rested in must have been unbearable, for what reason and by whose power did was he capable of staying submerged in it for so long? Princess Ingrid coughed and I snapped back to reality.
"As far as I remember, the one who enjoyed the most privilege among us womankind is the queen. If you must ask someone, do convey it to her." Upon hearing me target the queen, her mother princess Ingrid immediately flies into a rage and rose up, feet stomping the carpet. I merely mirror her own question yet how offended she was. This irony.
When she realized I had no intention of apologizing, The growl in her eyes just turned all the more intense. An unleashed hatred. The sprouts of conflict that have been growing all the time in a cage, breaking through the frames. There is no more pretense between us. None ever since she decided to hate me as a child. None ever since she insulted my mother.
"How dare you!"
Noticing how the situation was off, the knight from outside- Soren- came in. With a posture ready to pull his sword from the scabbard. I smiled and decided to join everyone in standing. Before ringing a bell for my ladies in waiting resting in an interconnected room to come. In no time, Lydia walked in, all tremendous shock at the scene happening inside.
"Forgive me, my memory has been befuddled lately. Lady Wiscar, dear, please brew some tea for these guests. With some cookies, since it seems breakfast has yet to start her mind seeing there is no rationale in her words."
Before princess Ingrid could slap the blazes out of me, Soren dragged her out in knightly virtue, the trashing of princess Ingrid all but child play for him to undo. In an instance, they were nearly out of my room, by the door.
"I won't forget this. Your Highness, I'm warning you, it would do some good if you hold your tongue."
I watch yet two more people leave. In a different direction with the man yesterday but outside of my space either way. Perhaps shutting my trap would allow me less solitude. but what is the purpose of fake companions? Are we to sleep with our eyes open and mouth bared?
They were out of sight for a long time, I walk into the pouring balcony despite the risk of recurrent fever, merely several hours before we depart for the Vranid empire. In the bleakness of the infinite skies, I look up and smiled.
So overbearing and persistent.
"It is still the same skies."