FIVE
Fates are really a bunch of bitches.
Verēna had reiterated it inside her head for over and over again as she fought to keep herself from laughing bitterly at the revelation splayed before her very eyes.
Now it make sense, she thought, gaze flitting to Lord Nuallan and Lord Mavi who had taken their position on either side of a blonde, lanky lad settled on top of a glass table, cross-legged and arms languidly propped on each other side behind. That was why the Minister needed instructors.
What a sick joke.
The lad, whom she guessed running between the ages of thirteen to fifteen, beckoned her to come in. Only then did she realize she was still standing outside the study's double doors.
Taking few graceful strides inside, the door shut closed behind her. From her peripheral scan, two more men shuffled towards the lounging area of the room to her right. She never missed the ivory-cladded man among those who had taken a seat facing her direction.
"I get that look a lot before," the lad with the same golden eyes as Lord Kaizo admitted, chuckling. "I guess it's really that hard to take in, am I right, Seer's disciple?"
Oh it's a lot harder than I let on.
"The name is Verēna, Your Excellence," she said through gritted teeth.
The title tasted like corroding metal in her tongue. The reluctant acknowledgement that came along it was like a blunt smack on her face. It was as though the Fates decided to pull on a prank at her on the last seconds and successfully dropped it without a hitch, rendering her utterly flabbergasted and offended when it struck her down.
"Indeed," she icily continued, "it is hard to take in that the reigning Minister of the country is a mere child."
Warning glares shot through her direction instantaneously, but the Minister only erupted into fits of youthful laughter while clutching his stomach. He was wiping the corners of his golden eyes by the time his laughter ceased.
"Oh, I like her bluntness," the Minister declared, looking to peeve Lord Mavi to his right, grinning widely. "Calm your asses down everyone. It's not like her words could kill me. Now pipe down the damn attitude. Come oooooon. This doesn't happen often!"
Verēna's brow twitched at his manner of speaking. It screamed with laid-back personality a lad his age mostly possessed, but somewhere under those inner layers, she could sense what made the country's Minister's lineage so important to the extent of keeping its progenies' identity an anonymity to their subjects. The reason why the select few surrounding this lineage had to take the Oath of Secrecy, and why her father, a former council member, was persecuted at the false charge of leaking the Romulus family's identity to some neighboring countries.
It was a decree that had been going on for centuries. And if Verēna wasn't mistaken, the neighboring countries administered the similar edict as well.
If she would concentrate more, the same overwhelming sensation was also present to Lord Kaizo who was blatantly staring at her without any hint of self-preservation.
An ancient year old bond that dated back even before the first establishment of their country centuries ago. A malevolent yet at the same time benign ancient bond that placed them on top of supremacy triangle among all the country's citizen. A power at par with the country's four guardians or Astreon. The raw power that was only a few step away from being one of the gods, yet at the same time far off. The rulers specifically molded out from the Mighty One's will of keeping his creation at peace and in check.
The Emperors' Blood they called it. One true ruler that reigned all. The blood that pulsed so strongly in Lord Kaizo's veins. The blood that put Alessio Magnus Romulus IV as reigning mediator without question regardless of age.
"Your Excellence, watch your language, please," Lord Nuallan scolded.
"You, people, really need to get a life," the Young Minister flippantly asserted yet clamped a hand to his mouth immediately after a pointed look from Lord Nuallan. He cleared his throat before clapping his hands as if to restart. "So what's the fuss about, Seer's disciple? Hold on, is that a Jei—oh, thank you."
While the young Minister was speaking, Verēna had already passed the parchment to Del's awaiting hand and the Jeix flew towards him in a flash. The astonished lad only managed to hold up a hand when Del abruptly dropped it onto his palm and scurried her way back to Verēna's shoulder, face hiding back on her braid.
Verēna rested her hands in front. "The Seer asked me to deliver that directly to you, Your Excellence. Urgent as it is, I suggest you to read it in private," she said, calculatingly glancing at the present audiences in the room beside them. "It might—"
"Oh, don't worry, Seer's disciple," the Young Minister cut her short, grinning knowingly while twirling the parchment in his hand.
"The name is Verēna, Your Excellence," she reiterated for the second time through gritted teeth.
"Ah yes, not really good with the names, but point is. . ." He unceremoniously tossed the parchment back to her. It skidded to a stop a feet away before her face, suspending midair as if some unseen force held it afloat.
Verēna simply plucked it in the air, not missing the mild tingling vibration surrounding it before fading to naught. For the umpteenth time, her eyebrow twitched not because for the brief display of his power, but because of the foreboding sensation sitting in her gut.
"I already know what's inside that," he pointed a finger to the parchment she had, "thing."
"Pardon?" she found herself straining the question. Her amber eyes briefly glowed again at the sudden shift of the atmosphere. As it faded back to normal, Verēna no longer saw a mere mirthful lad. Across her still perched atop of glass table the same lanky lad, yet the odd glow in his golden eyes allowed her to take a glimpse of what laid underneath the façade.
Cunning and full of tricks. It was like a child playing a dangerous charade meant only for grown-ups, yet there he was, already weaving her into his li'l schemes . . . as an expendable pawn.
Right there and then, she needed no verbal affirmation that the foreboding sensation nudging her subconscious ever since the Seer gave her the parchment was indeed starting to unravel before her dead eyes. And Verēna didn't damn like how things' going. Nope. Not all.
"It's your Oath of Secrecy, Seer's disciple," he stated with a shrug. "I've assume the position a few years ago after my sire's death and doing well so far, but you see, we started to meet complications with Merrill some few months ago and my council was afraid it'll be problematic to our country's internal affairs if left unresolved."
A dreading idea came to her mind.
"You need me to be this country's priestess."
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