Chapter Text
Today will decide your kingdom's future.
While you may not be the most devout woman, even you are excited for the holy festival which only occurs once every ten years. It is an extremely elaborate affair that takes nearly a full decade to prepare for its inception, and even still, the castle is chaotic as people rush about making last minute arrangements.
Although you are well into the rainy season, the clouds know better than to darken the sky on a day devoted solely to the Cultivator herself.
This is also a rather important day for you, as it will be the first time that your people will see and hear from their new Queen. You were only fourteen when the last festival was held, but you remember it like it was yesterday. The sights, the smells, the delicious Yuueii street food! You cannot wait to experience it all once again! Although the greatest part of the celebration was being able to mix and mingle with the common folk. To say that you were ecstatic would be an understatement, but as Queen your duties must always come first. Before the festivities commence, you must meet with an ambassador from Fiore to discuss a trade agreement.
A knock at the door to your study rustles the enchanted vines curling patterns along the stone walls. Izuku strides inside dressed in a soft cotton shirt and wool pants; his loungewear.
You spare a glance up at him from your stack of paperwork. "My darling, you still aren't dressed for the festival?"
"Before I suit up properly, I wanted to speak with you," he says in his serious voice. "It's just… are you upset with me? Have I done something wrong?"
"Of course not," you reply easily, still scratching away with your quill. "How could I ever be upset with such a perfect gentleman? Why would you think that, sweet pea?"
The Knight blushes at the pet name, drawing closer to your desk. "W-Well, ever since you became Queen, you haven't called upon me. I feared it signified the abrupt end to our… entanglement," he whispers the last part.
That makes you put your quill down and look up at the man standing with a slightly bowed head before you. It's true you've been so busy, trying to multitask and fulfill your duties to the people at every waking moment. You didn't even realize it had been a month since you've last felt your lover's embrace. Izuku has been more than patient and understanding, but the way he pouts and juts out his lower lip shows that the Knight is nearing the end of his rope.
"Aww, beloved. In my efforts to serve the people, I've neglected my most favorite person of all," you coo, opening your arms to him. Izuku wastes no time dropping to his knees in front of your chair and wrapping his arms around your midsection. He buries his face in your neck, breathing you in. "You need not wait for me to call upon you. I told you, we are equal partners in this courtship. If you want some love and affection, you need only ask."
"You mean it?" He asks, pouting even more when you chuckle at his adorable self. "Then I want a taste. Please? You haven't let me in so long, bunny, and I really need it. Need it so bad."
An electric zing of arousal rushes down your spine. "Let me know how it tastes then."
With your consent, Izuku rushes to pull at the hem of your silk gown. The material is nice and thin, so he can bunch it up at your waist and get a good look at your exposed modesty. Like a flipped switch, his once sparkling doe eyes are now dark and hungry as Izuku drools at the sight of your bare sex.
"Look at you," he leans forward, pressing his face into your core to inhale your scent and moan shakily with appreciation. "Missed you, bunny. Think she missed me, too."
You hold your skirts out of the way, allowing Izuku to pull you to the edge of your seat and spread you open with his thumbs. The Knight rumbles low in his chest. "Aww she's crying," he coos into your cunt, drawing the softest of licks to lap up your trickling arousal. "Don't worry, I'm here now to make it all better."
You watch his eyes flutter, lost in his own world as he begins to eat you for his own pleasure, his own enjoyment. Slow and shy kisses turn to sloppy make outs before Izuku latches on your clit and hums contentedly. His tongue strums back and forth, playing your body like a lute and creating such beautiful music.
"God— I thought your princess pussy was good," Izuku moans, "but this queenly cunt is somethin' else. Can't get enough."
You take a fistful of his curly locks and tug, unsure if you want to push him away or pull him closer as profanities slip from your lips. "This is really all you want, huh? Maybe you really are my little lapdog." You gasp when Izuku bites the inside of your thigh then shoves his tongue inside you. "O-Oh, did you like that? Hm, puppy? Fuck… Maybe I'll get you a shiny silver collar so, ah! everyone will know that you're all mine."
"Yours," he whimpers, slurping all the way from your clit down to your tight ring of muscle, poking the tip of his tongue around the rim of your ass experimentally. Nasty. Filthy. Depraved. "Yours. Yours. Yours."
"Good boy," you chant as you approach your peak. "Always so good for me."
It's early morning, but Izuku makes you see stars and constellations when you cum. His eyes watch your face carefully as you unravel, soaking in your reactions and your arousal coating his lips. He continues to lick slow, fat strokes over your slit, prolonging your ecstasy for as long as possible.
There's a knock at the door. "Your Majesty," Lord Aizawa's voice is muffled behind the wooden barrier. "The ambassador is ready to see you."
Izuku looks up at you, raising a brow in silent question as he continues to drink from your leaky wellspring. One hand slides up to squeeze and grope at your chest while the other keeps you open for him. He wants, no needs to make you cum at least once more.
"Make her wait a bit longer," you call, staring back at the Knight as you speak. "So she knows who's boss."
"A fine intimidation tactic," Aizawa answers in a bored tone, and you listen intently for his retreating footsteps.
Once he is gone, Izuku redoubles his efforts, loud in the way he sucks on your sensitive swollen pearl and slurps up your mess. You continue to whisper praises to him, but you're not even sure if your words reach him when he's got that glazed over, pussydrunk look in his eyes. The first orgasm is always for you, but the rest are for Izuku— so that he knows he's taking care of you in a way no one else can, seeing you in a pleasured state that no one else will. It serves to both stir and tame the beast inside of him.
"Puppy, please," you start to tearfully beg for mercy after your third climax, but he's already shaking his head, shamelessly rubbing his face into you as he denies your request. "Please, I can't take much more—"
"You can," Izuku growls stubbornly, nibbling at your thighs when you try to push him away. "You must… You will."
Aizawa beats on the door again. "The ambassador grows impatient—"
"She can, uh! uh! grow a second head, ohh, for all I care!" You gasp and shudder.
"I'm coming in—"
"NO!" You shout, and a few vines snake down to barricade the door as you meet Izuku's lust blown eyes. He's too far gone to stop now. You hiss, "under the desk! Use your manners and eat quietly."
"Yes, my Queen," he replies almost in a trance, crawling under your massive desk as you straighten your skirt over his head. He whines until you spread your legs for him to continue his meal, murmuring his thanks. The Knight wastes no time wiggling his tongue against your asshole and rubbing circles on your clit. You put your head in your hands, trying to steady your breathing just as Aizawa bursts through the entrance to the study.
The older man scowls at the doorframe. "Damn thing must be getting sticky." His stiff black cloak turns to you. "Your Majesty, don't you think you've made the ambassador wait long enough?"
"I just need a moment," you sniffle wetly as Izuku's talented tongue presses in deeper, breaches your tight little muscle further, rubs his thumb even faster. He's trying to make you break and cum right in front of your advisor. "Please?"
"Are you alright, Your Highness?" Aizawa hears the tears in your voice and moves to comfort you, but you quickly stop him.
"I'm fine," you choke. "Just some… lingering grieving pains… Please, I can't, not yet," you plead with the hidden Izuku as your legs tremble.
"Alright, I'll find another excuse," Aizawa sighs, leaving the room.
As soon as the door closes, you release a stuttered whimper, and Izuku all but keens at the sound. He gets loud and sloppy and messy once again, slipping two fingers inside you without warning and curling them as he pumps. You cover your mouth to muffle the scream that tears through you as you barrel over the edge, eyes crossing in pleasure. With a few parting kisses to your cunt, Izuku finally releases you and crawls out from under your desk. The lower half of his face is covered with you, but there's an even bigger mess staining his trousers. The outline of his fat twitching cock still leaking his seed in his pants makes you grin despite your exhaustion. You tug him forward by his shirt so you can lick his face clean, moaning softly at the taste of yourself on his lips. You decide he should always taste just like this, just like you.
"Now, what do we say, puppy?" You ask.
"Thank you for the meal," he responds, just as hazy in lust and love as you feel.
"Good boy." He hums happily. "Go get cleaned up and dressed for the festival. It's your first one, so you can't be late."
Izuku gives you one last kiss before heading out the door. You gather yourself together before exiting the study a few minutes later. Once you head out the door, your advisor's dark eyes are already on you. He gives you a curious look but says nothing as he hurries you to your trade meeting.
Lord Aizawa leads you to the Throne Room. It is a glorious space, lined with rows of shining marble columns carved like trees that soar towards the high ceilings which are adorned with vivid paintings. Vines wreath the columns, sprouting bright yellow sunflowers. Plants fill every inch of this room, filling the air with a perfumed scent. The nature of the scent changes every day, as directed by you. For today's meeting with the Fiore ambassador, you've chosen a lavender aroma since it adorns Yuueii's flag. The patriotic choice should make it abundantly clear where your priorities lie.
Golden light shines through stained glass windows depicting Yuueii's creation. The light falls upon a raised dais, and in the center of that dais sits the Throne of Thorns. The rest of the Throne Room is a beautiful, seamless blend of natural delights and human artistry. Many a stony heart has softened upon entering the room; many a poet has waxed lyrical about the illustrious, stirring power of this space.
That beauty ends at the throne.
Cruel thorns twist and curve to form an ugly, dark chair, which seems to absorb all the light that it touches. If the throne had a voice, it would surely be screaming.
"To rule is to sacrifice," King Mirko the Mighty once said. "The thorns upon my throne remind me of this each day."
There is a part of the throne where the thorns flatten, to allow one to sit without being ripped to shreds. Still, as you lower yourself onto the throne, a thorn pricks your arm. You see, this is the price of the Throne of Thorns. No matter how careful you are or how thick your clothing, it extracts blood from your body each and every time you sit upon it.
The Fiore ambassador, who has been waiting at the back of the room, strides toward you. She bows, but it isn't low enough for your liking. The ambassador is a sharp-faced woman with a steely glint to her eyes. She wears a jacket emblazoned with the intertwined red and blue dragons of Fiore lore and has a sheaf of documents clutched in her hand.
"Your Majesty," she says. "Before we begin, may I please extend my deepest condolences to you and your kingdom regarding the late Queen's untimely passing. It is a horrible thing to lose a parent."
You need no reminder. "You are here to discuss our trade agreement, no?"
The ambassador nods. "Fiore and Yuueii have been cordial trading partners for many years, as I'm sure you're well aware," she says. "However, one of our contracts is due to expire. I am referring to the Asumun-Bokor pact, of course."
Naturally you have read over the material in preparation for this meeting, but you feign ignorance so it looks like the pact is only a minor concern. The ambassador frowns, and a small piece of her confident mask chips away. "You don't know about the pact, Your Majesty?"
Lord Aizawa waves a lazy hand. "Yuueii has thousands of such trade agreements, and the Asumun-Bokor pact is only one of them."
Aizawa might be exaggerating at the "thousands" number, but at least it makes the ambassador concerned. The first rule of negotiation, as Shimura once wrote, is to care less than your opponent. Or at least to pretend you do.
The ambassador hands you her leaflet, and you scan the letter with a bored expression. There's a lot of flowery language, but the meaning is clear. They want to renegotiate so that Yuueii receives only a third of what your nation normally gains from the pact. Lord Aizawa reads the letter over your shoulder, and his startled gasp sends hot breath washing over your neck. He wasn't expecting this bad of a deal either.
At least the ambassador has the grace to look apologetic. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty. The Triumvirate lacks confidence in your ability to rule, owing to your age and lack of political experience. Despite your courtship with Prince Shouto, this is the best deal we can offer."
It takes a conscious effort for you to not openly blanch at her last statement. Since your coronation you've had little time to read up on the gossip columns involving other nobles. It seems Prince Shouto has achieved his goal of ruling alongside his siblings, and yet he openly disrespects you through this propagated messenger. Perhaps you made a grave mistake agreeing to align with the cold man last windy season at the racetrack.
Whatever the case, if you sign this new contract, thousands of gold pieces will be lost. More than that, it will signal weakness to Yuueii's other trading partners. This is the first major trading agreement you've dealt with in your short reign. You need to make a strong start.
"You can't accept," whispers Lord Aizawa. "You have to fight this."
The foreign ambassador watches you carefully. "Do you have anything to say, Your Majesty?"
You flash her a dazzling smile. "Ambassador, I think we've gotten off on the wrong foot. That's a shame, because I respect you. We both care about the same thing: doing what's best for our people. Yuueii and Fiore are inextricably linked, woven together by centuries of trade— along with mine and Prince Shouto's coupling," you manage to say without gagging. "When one of us does well, so does the other. So why don't we put aside our differences and strike a new deal?"
The ambassador shakes her head. "I'm sorry, Your Majesty, but that's not enough for me to go on. If you don't like this contract, you're welcome to cancel it entirely— but I think that would be even worse for your people."
"You need to be better than that, Your Majesty," whispers Aizawa. "This is your last chance to change her mind."
You feel a vein forming on your temple despite your mask of a calm smile. She thinks Yuueii is vulnerable. She thinks you are weak. You have to change the ambassador's mind, and there's only one way to do that: you must show her what makes you a worthy leader. Your magic is powerful, but you choose instead to rely upon your cunning and guile.
"News travels fast these days," you say casually. "Particularly news of the salacious variety."
The ambassador frowns. "What is your point, Your Majesty?"
You shrug. "Nothing solid. Simply…hypothetical. I, for instance, have nothing against honeysmoke— it is a perfectly harmless drug, and well accepted within Yuueii's walls. But I know that Fiore frowns upon the substance. So it would be quite inconvenient if certain employers were to find out that a certain ambassador had been indulging."
The woman pales. "How did you—"
"My spies are quite talented," you grin wickedly, and your crown glints in the light.
Silence stretches out for a long moment. Then, the ambassador bows. "I have reconsidered, Your Majesty. We are willing to renew the contract at our original rate."
Your little threatening speech worked! Hopefully, you can live up to your promises. Lord Aizawa flashes a rare smile.
"If I may speak with full honesty, Your Majesty," says the Fiore ambassador, "I came here with low expectations. You are so young, with such little political experience, and I was expecting a leader who would struggle to negotiate. But I must say, perhaps Yuueii is in better hands than I thought. You are a city of bountiful plant magic, after all. I should have expected a surprise to sprout up. And now, I must take my leave. I've heard rumblings of war in Skeggland, and I do believe that the Noble Triumvirate may wish to reassign me to investigate the happenings up there."
The ambassador curtsies to you and Lord Aizawa, then strides for the exit. "Enjoy the festival, Your Majesty."
"Well," says Lord Aizawa. "Not at all a bad start to the day, Your Highness."
Bells toll in the city. The Festival of the Cultivator is about to begin.
Lord Aizawa gestures to the door. "Come, Your Majesty. Your subjects will be expecting you."
You and Lord Aizawa stride through the palace corridors. People are rushing about on frantic last-minute jobs for the festival. They bow to you as you pass. Where you can, you try to remember brief details about each person and their families— asking if their cousin has recovered from illness, congratulating them on recent births, thanking them for various projects. Everyone walks away from you with a spring in their step.
"You've always been quite the charmer, Your Majesty." Aizawa nods at you with approval. "Word of this will spread, and I think it will do wonders for your reputation."
"Reputation," you scoff to yourself but say nothing more lest the older man scold you.
As your former teacher, Aizawa has always held a particular sort of power over you, and he knows full well of your bratty nature. Or at least, the impression he had of you as a Princess. Even the perpetually tired advisor must admit that you have mellowed out since your time in the Jungle. It must have served you well to run about through the wilds, free from the restraints of decorum and formality that the Court demands.
The two of you walk down a curving marble staircase. Towering windows offer a beautiful view of the sea. Sunlight glints off the water, and a warm, salty breeze blows through the open window, tousling your hair.
The scenery grows colder and damper as the two of you make your way to the castle crypt. On the day of the festival, only Yuueii's ruler may step inside.
Your eyes adjust to the dimness as you venture further. Your footsteps echo, soft and feeble. Deep within the bowels of the palace, this is a dark and cold place, with tiny glowshroom patches doing little to dispel the gloom. Thick columns support the vaulted ceiling. However unlike the columns up above, these are made from rough stone. Ancient stone. Your footsteps echo. They're almost painfully loud within this oppressive silence. Not a single noise from the outside world can enter this room buried deep within the ground.
Rectangular patches of dirt fill the room in neat rows. Tombstones sit atop each patch, and small curls of plant life sprout from the soil. Carvings on the tombstones show likenesses of the people buried beneath, for this crypt is the resting place of Yuueii's former rulers. The resting place of your ancestors and all those who came before. Hundreds of years of kings and queens. Some wise and some foolish. Some humble and some arrogant. Some brave and some weak. Some who made this kingdom better, and some who made it worse.
One day, you too will come to rest here.
What will your legacy be?
You come to a halt. Without realizing it, you've stopped beside your mother's grave. Engraved on her tombstone is your family's name. In the dim light, the words seem to shine with a vivid brightness. Beneath your mother's name is your family's motto. Engraved into stone, those words will last a thousand years, and you're in no danger of forgetting them, either. Hearing those words was one of your earliest memories.
"To serve, and not be served," you read aloud.
Those words were passed down to you by your mother, and by her father before you, and his father before him, and so on and so on, stretching back through the misty passages of time. Through those words, you are linked to all who came before you. You glance around the crypt. It is traditional for Yuueii's ruler to spend some time reflecting in the tombs before the Festival of the Cultivator begins.
You kneel before King Nezu's grave. His tombstone is so ancient that his name is barely visible. Even protected down here in these catacombs, time's decay cannot be stopped. King Nezu was the one who transformed Yuueii from a tiny pilgrim town into a city to be reckoned with. King Nezu the Builder, they called him. It was he who traced the outline of Yuueii's original walls with the point of his spear, although he never lived to see them finished. And when they were, the walls reached only a few feet high. Today, the city's walls have moved far beyond Nezu's tracings, and they stand far taller in the air— and yet they owe a debt to him, as does everyone else in this kingdom.
A soft bell rings in the hallway outside, rousing you from your reverie. It is time to leave.
You stride toward the center of the crypt. A small, circular patch of soil rests here, with a single flower standing on the end of a delicate stem. This is the Cultivator's Spirit, and it only blossoms once every ten years. With delicate hands, you remove the flower. It feels so light in your hands. Light and fragile. You tuck the flower into the ceremonial box, then look around once more at the tombs of your ancestors.
"I will do my best to make you all proud."
You stride out of the crypt to where Lord Aizawa waits. Together, you retrace your steps back up the stairs, with the Cultivator's Spirit held in the box before you.
You arrive at the entrance to the ballroom. A balcony leads out from the ballroom, and from this balcony you will address your subjects to commence the festival. Aizawa opens the door. You step through. Inside the ballroom, fine paintings hang on wood-paneled walls, depicting lush agrarian scenes of farms and forests. Potted plants soften the palace's hard edges, and the pleasant scent of lavender helps you relax. But only a little, as you soon meet a pair of familiar bright emerald eyes.
"Izuku?" You gasp in surprise. "I thought that you would be with the other soldiers."
The Knight rakes his eyes over you slowly, appreciatively, and his gaze makes you feel searing hot as though he can see right through the silky gown that you wear. To most, the shining steel clad warrior would appear to be smiling at you sweetly, but since your recent coupling, you recognize the dark twinkling in his eyes to signify something more primal. Secretive as it may be, now that the two of you are interconnected as you are, the Knight cannot help but to openly ogle that which he has laid silent claim to. He eyes the exposed skin of your neck and collarbone and décolletage with something akin to a predator observing its prey.
"Of course I am here," Izuku says as he finally meets your eyes. "My place is by your side, my Queen."
It makes your insides tingle with need every time he says so. "Yes, of course."
Glass doors lead out onto a balcony. Once you step out there, you'll be visible to a crowd of citizens gathered before the castle. You can hear them now, tens of thousands of disparate voices all forming a low-pitched buzzing. At your inauguration a month ago, you addressed many citizens, but that speech was short and cloaked in ceremonial scripting. This speech is far longer, and it will be delivered to a much bigger crowd.
You inhale the scent of the enchanted flower in your breast pocket that flutters in time with your breathing. It feeds off your energy to sustain itself, which explains your ravenous appetite. In addition to the animation effect, you've added a magical enhancement that extends the rose's lifespan. This one has lasted for eight months.
"Your subjects await you, my liege," says Lord Aizawa. "It's time for your speech." He nods to the aide, who walks outside. She blows a trumpet to silence the crowd.
"All rise for the Queen of Yuueii!" she says.
You take a deep breath, and Izuku flashes a reassuring smile. Hoping that you don't ruin your first impression, you step out onto the balcony. As you emerge onto the balcony, a spectacular view of Yuueii unfolds. There are so many people looking to you.
"Yuueii," you project your voice for all to hear, "You're the best looking audience I've seen in a while!!"
Laughter ripples through the crowd. They're charmed by your words. You've started strongly, but now you must continue at the same high standard. Perhaps it's time to share a personal story to help the crowd relate to you.
"When I was a child, I loved this festival so much. I truly cannot wait to taste all the excellent street food!"
"Are you saying the festival is childish?" cries a heckler.
"Yeah, give us a break!" shouts another. "You eat banquets for every meal!"
Uneasy murmurs run through the crowd.
Behind you, Izuku whispers, "Give me a signal, and I can send guards to take them away." He sends a death glare into the crowd. You must admit that it thrills you how willingly he is to act on your behalf, but you quickly reassure the Knight that you have the situation under control.
"Did anyone else hear a legitimate complaint?" You ask the people. "Because I didn't!"
The crowd laughs. Embarrassed by your retort, the hecklers go quiet. However, as you continue with your speech, other people in the crowd throw jabs and insults at you, hoping for a similar reaction. Luckily, your position allows you to project your voice over theirs, but it makes for a rather disruptive talk. To help the crowd know you better, you decide to tell them more about your upbringing.
"I trained with Sorceress Chiyo in the Infyrm Jungle for many years," you say. "She was a difficult teacher at times. I remember her making me stand in the forest for an entire day, buried up to my waist in dirt, so that I could feel what it was like to be a tree."
More laughter ripples through the crowd. The old woman was frustratingly obtuse at times. You never knew whether she was teaching something incredibly profound or whether she was pulling off a prank at your expense. Because you were a trickster yourself, you had a begrudging respect for the elder. At least she was equally annoying to your fellow apprentice, although he was much less receptive to the older woman's unconventional teaching methods. His explosive reactions never failed to make you chortle.
You take some time to thank the Arborturgic Order, since this is their biggest religious event. The members of the Order, distinguished by their plain brown robes, bow to you gratefully. Priestess Ibara uses her magic to make bright purple flowers sprout from the buildings on either side of the Pearl Boulevard.
You take the Cultivator's Spirit out from the ceremonial box. The crowd goes hushed. Illuminated by the early morning light, the flower's petals seem even more delicate than they were in the crypt. You raise the flower into the air, then you toss it into the street below. Petals flutter away on the wind as the flower floats down to the street.
Dozens of citizens jump to catch it. But a strong gust whips through the air, sending the flower soaring over their heads to land in the outstretched arms of a small boy dressed in ragged clothes. Rather than complain, the failed catchers raise the child onto their shoulders. The crowd cheers. The boy flashes you an impish grin from beneath his torn cap. Even from this distance, his dark eyes catch the light.
With the Cultivator's Spirit given to Yuueii's people, the festival can now begin. You wave to the crowd, then walk back into the ballroom. As soon as you are inside, you thank everyone for their hard work in organizing today's festival.
"We're off to a great start so far, and it's all thanks to you!" you say with a beaming smile.
Everyone in the room grins at each other.
"Well done, Your Majesty," says Aizawa. "I think you made a real impression with the Arborturgic Order. High Priestess Ibara seemed very attentive."
Bells clang outside the castle walls. After ten long years of waiting, the Festival of the Cultivator is about to begin.
The palace's great wooden door grinds open. Squinting from the sudden brightness, you emerge onto the castle steps, which lead down onto the Pearl Boulevard. Tens of thousands of people crowd the Boulevard, chatting, laughing, and browsing the market stalls. Mouthwatering smells of spices and roasted food waft toward you, and you moan with delighted anticipation. Izuku trembles in his armor at the sound. As you descend the palace's grand steps, a nearby crowd notices you. They openly cheer.
"You all look even more handsome from down here!" You say with an easy smile.
Yuueii's citizens beam. A few people throw flowers that land at your feet, which is a sign of great respect. People are packed everywhere along the Pearl Boulevard. As you walk through, the crowd parts to leave you a healthy amount of personal space. They are doing that partly to show respect to you as their Queen, and also because you are trailed by Izuku and a handful of other guards. You wish that you could be on your own, since it looks like you are afraid of your own people. But you know that Lord Aizawa would never allow that. At the very least, you hope that attending to you now will help to boost the soldiers' careers and perhaps land them in prosperous positions in the future.
"The festival is a grand opportunity to bolster your relationships with some of Yuueii's most influential citizens," Aizawa tells you. "You met Ibara before she became the High Priestess, yes?"
You hum an affirmative. "True, but I was so focused on mastering arborturgy that I had no time for her."
"Priestess Ibara has recently returned from a monastery posting to become High Priestess of the Arborturgic Order," Aizawa continues as you walk down the Boulevard. "Since this is Yuueii's primary religious group, this gives her a great deal of influence within the city. And without, as well. The Order has postings all across the world, although Yuueii has always been their center of power. As part of her duties, she cares for the city's gardens and oversees the practitioners of arborturgic magic. She is quite a skilled arborturgist."
You exchange a knowing glance with Izuku and bite back a smirk. Yes, Ibara has always been quite good with plant magic, but her abilities pale in comparison to your own.
"I would love to catch up with her," you say, but you are far more inclined to observe the common folk who are enjoying the festivities.
They look so happy and free!! It makes you feel so content— until you feel something brush against your backside. You immediately turn to Izuku, thinking that he is sneaking a feel of your body despite so many watchful eyes nearby. But your dear Knight is a few paces away, engaging with a market woman to procure some skewered street food for the both of you.
"Your Highness!"
Naturally, you turn. The spiky haired peasant boy who caught the Cultivator's Spirit stands in a nearby alleyway. An impish grin stretches across his young face, and his dark eyes sparkle with delight. He holds up a familiar looking purse. It clinks with the metallic jingle of coins.
"Thanks for bein' such a rich fool!" He says with mirth.
You remember the sensation of something brushing past you. No— not something. Someone. Your hand goes to your pocket, where you kept a small bag of spending money for the festival. The pocket is empty. He just stole it!
"Not bad," you chuckle lightheartedly. "Taking my coins with all these guards around me? You've got some skills, sapling! Although there's room for improvement— after all, I felt you brush past."
He gives you a mischievous grin. "For a stuffy noble, you're a gracious loser, Your Majesty. See you around!"
Your guards finally realize what's happened. Izuku stands by you protectively, wielding his skewered meats like a deadly weapon. Perhaps in the hands of such a skilled warrior they are? It's still rather amusing.
The other guards sprint toward the boy, trying to snatch him up. But as they close in, the nimble lad jumps up onto a dangling vine and uses it to scramble up onto a rooftop. One of your most tenacious guards tries to follow, but when Sir Tenya pulls himself up, the vine snaps, dumping the Knight onto the ground. The lad crawls onto the roof, sends you one last crude gesture, then sprints away, cackling. Your guards tramp back toward you with their tails between their legs. They all look glum.
"We've failed you, Your Majesty," Izuku curses himself. "If that had been an assassin…"
You only giggle as the man pouts. "Don't worry! It was just a young boy looking to cause a bit of mischief. I'd brought the money to spend after all, so I'm glad it is going to someone who clearly needs it. The only casualty here is Sir Tenya's pride."
Izuku is still unsatisfied, but the other guards chuckle along with you. A few of them nudge Sir Tenya who fell from the vine, and the bespectacled man shakes his head with exasperated humor before bowing to you repeatedly in apology. His formality only serves to make you laugh even harder.
As you continue walking, Lord Aizawa leans in toward you. "I must say, Your Majesty," he whispers, "I have to admire that boy's gall. He could prove a useful asset if we recruited him as one of our spies… although I sense he might be quite impossible to track down."
You hum noncommittally, since employing mere children to do your dirty work is the furthest thing from your mind. He was only a youth, and he should enjoy his freedom for as long as possible.
Your group arrives at the Arborturgic Gardens shortly, and you are greeted by the soothing scent of freshly clipped lawn. The smell is followed by the pleasant fragrance of roses, frangipani, wisteria, and countless other flowers. Anywhere else, the sheer number of scents might be overwhelming. Here, at the heart of the Arborturgic Order, the aromas synthesize to form a beautiful symphony of smell.
Citizens mill about the gardens, admiring the sculpted hedges, pleasant-smelling roses, and meandering walking trails. Some areas are immaculately groomed. Others are wild and tangled, to represent the different aspects of the Cultivator. Your favorite area is the rainforest gardens. It is deceptive and unpredictable— peaceful one moment, chaotic the next.
The rainforest garden is dense with lush, tropical vegetation, including carnivorous plants big enough to swallow rats. Some would argue that it is nature at its most pure. All would agree that it is the wildest part of the Arborturgic Gardens. Even so, it's nowhere near as wild as the Infyrm Jungle. Then again, few places are.
You entered the gardens from Castelanelli Street. Next to you is the Temple of the Cultivator. The temple consists of a domed roof, supported on columns and open on all sides. In the middle of the temple, a towering five hundred foot redwood tree grows up through a hole in the dome. It's staggering that something could grow this big; the trunk alone is so wide that a circle of twenty people could barely link their arms around it.
Most remarkably, the tree casts no reflection or shadow; when viewed in a mirror, the tree is invisible. According to the Order's doctrine, the tree was planted by the Cultivator herself. If you squint, you can just make out a handful of priests and priestesses sitting on the tree's topmost branches, deep in prayer. In your youth, you also climbed the tree but not for prayer— you did it for the thrill of the challenge. There were a few terrifying moments where you almost fell, but you managed to reach the top. The view of the kingdom from the tree's canopy was incredible. Climbing down was less fun, because your arms were aching, but the experience certainly made you more comfortable with heights.
"My Queen!"
You turn. Priestess Ibara stands upon the temple steps with a flock of priests, priestesses, and commoners standing behind her.
"Ah, Priestess Ibara," you smile warmly at her, "A pleasure to see you."
She grins, charmed by your greeting. "Good morning, Your Majesty." Ibara descends the steps to approach you. Her crowd follows behind. She is a slim woman, who wears her simple earthy-brown robes with elegance. A vine wraps around her waist instead of a belt, and the green leaves match her long, microbraided hair that resembles the vines she magically manipulates.
"Do you remember the last time this festival happened?" she asks. "When we were both training with the Order? It feels like only yesterday! And look at us now." Ibara's right. Ten years ago, you were finishing your training with the Arborturgic Order. "I was just about to demonstrate arborturgy to these kind pilgrims." Ibara gestures to the commoners gathered around her. "But now that you have arrived, perhaps we could see your magic instead?" The crowd cheers.
"I think that's a yes," whispers Lord Aizawa beside you.
As if you would not take it upon yourself to show off your plant magic! You will utilize arborturgy to showcase your skills for the people, but you do not rely on prayer or faith. You speak to the plants, and they speak back to you, it is only a matter of listening closely.
You walk to an empty patch of dirt. In your pocket, you keep a few dozen seeds for moments like these. You take a seed from your pocket, dig a little hole in the soil, then place the seed inside. An expectant hush falls over the crowd. Most commoners rarely see arborturgy, since it is usually reserved for religious rituals. There's only a handful of people in Yuueii who know how to use arborturgy without belonging to the Order.
You are one of them.
After taking a deep breath, you feel for the soul of the seed. Arborturgy isn't a magic you fully understand, even after years spent learning it when you were a guest in the Order and even after your advanced teachings in the Infyrm Jungle. However as your mentor Chiyo once told you, the best things in this world are not meant to be fully understood. But what you do know is that every plant has a sort of spirit to it, and by touching that spirit, you can encourage the plant to do your bidding.
There! You can feel a presence, as if someone just appeared beside you. The presence is small, but curious. Concentrating, you let your mind open up to the presence. You picture a tree, soaring and strong, and after a few moments there is a tugging in your stomach.
A tiny green sprout rises from the soil. The crowd gasps. Crackling noises come from beneath the ground as roots spread from the seed, anchoring it to the earth. The sprout thickens as it grows, its leaves unfurling and its pliant green stem becoming more woody as the plant rises. Within a few moments, it passes the height of your head, still thickening, still threading its roots through the dirt.
The crowd stumbles back, gaping at the plant. Energy drains from you as the tree grows. As the tree reaches double your height, you glance up. Priestess Ibara smiles. Izuku glows with pride.
As the minutes pass, you edge away from the thickening tree. Soon, the trunk is wider than your wrist… then wider than your leg… then wider than your waist.
Fatigue hits you. You stumble back, cutting off your magic, and Izuku is there in a flash of green and silver to steady you. Where there was once a seed, now a tree towers over you. You lean into the Knight, panting. That was just as exhausting as it was impressive.
"Bless the Cultivator; it must be forty feet tall!" says a priestess in the crowd. You fight to keep your brow from twitching. Bless the Cultivator? It was you who accomplished this feat! Another reminder of why you never got along well with religious types.
A hand touches your elbow. You look up to see Priestess Ibara, who offers you a cup filled with brown sludge. "Most impressive, Your Highness." Her eyes twinkle. "Would you like a drink? I know it looks unappealing, but it will help you replace the energy you just poured into the tree."
"Nonsense," you decline, waving a hand at her. "My arborturgy is strong enough to grow ten more."
Izuku frowns behind your back at the bluff, but the crowd mutters with approval. Rumors of your immense magical abilities will spread like wildfire today, although you're not sure if Priestess Ibara is impressed or amused.
The priests, priestesses, and commoners disperse, talking among themselves. Priestess Ibara is left alone with you and your retinue. "Come walk with me, my Queen," she bids, leading you away from the temple, along a path of stepping stones leading across tufts of grass. "What do you think of these gardens, Your Majesty?"
"They're beautiful," you say with a smile, unable to tear your gaze away from this living tribute to nature. "It is a true testament to the Cultivator, a real compliment to your efforts."
She smiles. "Are you familiar with 'The Tragedy of the Seed'?" she asks. You shake your head no.
"Let me tell you a parable, my Queen. There was once a town in a valley far to the east of Yuueii. The townsfolk lived simple farming lives, supplying for their own needs with crops grown on the valley's slopes. There was always enough food for everyone. Until the plague came. Disease blighted the crops, halving the town's food sources overnight."
You reach the end of a path. Ibara gestures for you to pick the way. You choose the dense rainforest garden, and Izuku silently wonders behind you if you miss the Jungle landscape, if you would prefer being there now rather than being here, with him. A pleasant, dewy coolness greets you as you and Ibara enter the shade of the rainforest garden. The lush plants dampen the noise from the rest of the city.
"A soothsayer entered the town," says Ibara. "She told the mayor there was a magical seed buried underneath the valley. Finding the seed would end the plague, triple their crops, and save the town from starvation. The mayor became desperate. She ordered the townsfolk to dig up the valley to find the seed. People protested, saying that this would ruin their remaining crops. Even the mayor's husband protested. The mayor didn't care. The promise of the seed was too great. They dug and dug, ripping the valley to pieces, but when winter fell upon the town, they still hadn't found the seed. With their crops ruined by their own hand, the town starved— but not before the mayor was hanged."
You reach the peak of a hill. From here, the whole of the gardens spread before you, and you can also see far into Yuueii itself.
High Priestess Ibara turns to face you. "What was the mayor's mistake?"
Even paces away, you can feel the weight of Lord Aizawa's and even more so Izuku's gazes upon your form. You hum and tap your bottom lip in thought. "Well, it is never good to obsess over one thing at the expense of all others," you muse before smiling cheekily. "But if I am to be truthful, had she not told the public about her plans then events would've transpired differently. If she had done it in secret, then the people wouldn't have killed her."
"Perhaps," says Ibara. She gazes at you with a deep smile. Clearly, she has enjoyed spending time with you.
Bells, drums, and bugles echo in the distance. The army's marching display is about to begin.
"Alas, I suppose I should let you go," says High Priestess Ibara. "You have a parade to oversee, don't you?"
As you head back to the Pearl Boulevard for the army's marching display, you notice a stall that sells toy horses. For the second time today, you're reminded of your fellow arborturgical student. He always talked with such pride about his horses. It's been years since you last saw him. What's he doing now?
As you start to move away from the stall, an old man crosses into your path. His once-fine clothes are ragged and dirty. The man throws himself down at your feet. "Please help me, my Queen!"
Your guards close in, but Lord Aizawa gestures for them to wait. The old man doesn't seem like a threat.
He looks up at you, tears dripping down his weathered face. "Your Majesty, I need your help! The merchant Lady Mei has ensnared me in contracts and debts, and if I can't pay by the end of the week, I'll lose my home. Please, I know if you say to, she will wipe my debts clean."
You arch a brow. Lady Mei is a brilliant inventor, and the most wealthy woman in all of your land, second only to you. However her fortune was secured almost entirely on her own due to her remarkable innovations and incredible sales abilities. The one thing she does not mess around with is her coin. If this old geezer is indebted to her, then it is solely caused by his own fault, and she will be furious with you if you waive the debt. And yet when your trembling subject prostrates himself before you publicly like this, you cannot help but to feel pity for the poor old man.
You sigh, showing your palms as if the matter is out of your hands. "I will pay your tab, but you or a family member must come to the castle to work off the debt."
"Thank you!" The old man clasps your hand. "Thank you for your kindness, Your Majesty. I'm a hard worker, and I promise that you won't regret it!" He strides away, looking as if the world has lifted off his shoulders.
Lady Mei has gotten her money as well, so both of them will be happy. Still, it could set a bad example. You can only employ so many people to work for you, after all. Did you make the right choice? Behind you, Izuku smiles brightly at your kind heart and giving nature, despite the ambivalent front that you put on. The Knight definitely would've preferred the old man not touch you though.
The army's marching parade is about to start in a few minutes. A stage has been constructed on the castle's steps to overlook the Pearl Boulevard. It will give you a good view of the parade as Yuueii's soldiers march from the army barracks to the palace. You take your position upon the stage. Other important citizens join you, including Priestess Ibara and Lady Mei.
You think nothing of it until Lady Mei swaggers toward you. "Ah, Your Majesty! This is a most effervescent pleasure." She smiles, playing with the expensive jeweled rings on her fingers.
Lady Mei's exquisite dress is made from silken gold-and-purple brocade, which accentuates her lovely figure. A one-inch square of the brocade costs thousands of gold coins. To wear a full length gown of that material shows her immense wealth.
"Such a great shame that you couldn't make it to my market, Your Grace," says Mei. "Why, I think you would have quite enjoyed my wares. I auctioned some particularly valuable goods, you see. Actually, now that I consider it, I think I may have a few left."
She snaps her fingers. A servant scurries forward, bearing several expensive-looking items. Mei gestures grandly toward the goods. "Would you do me the honor of buying one of my rarest goods, Your Majesty?"
"Best to accept, Your Majesty," whispers Lord Aizawa. "There's a crowd watching us, and if you say no, rumors will spread that you're too poor to afford it."
You cannot help but smirk, amused as the woman puts you on the spot. You always admired her peerless intellect and aversion to Court politics. But it's no secret that Mei has always viewed you as a rival. As youths she worked and studied tirelessly while you were pretty much a royal fuck up. You did and said as you pleased, goofed off, and didn't spare much attention for anything that didn't involve arborturgy. As was your right, you'd snark as a Princess. Because no matter how inventive Mei was or how silver her tongue, one day you would be Queen, the path already laid, the title merely handed to you.
Over the years Lady Mei has begrudgingly accepted this reality, but as you peruse her wares, it seems she has her sights set on something else that also already belongs to you. Izuku flushes and stutters as the pink haired inventor encroaches into his personal space, asking rapid fire questions about his armor and the balance of his blade. Your lip curls in annoyance. One for All is a legendary broadsword, of course it is perfect as is.
You pick an elixir touted to sharpen the wit and improve one's discourse. It will bolster your skill in debates and arguments, which should be quite useful, given your position.
Lady Mei retreats from your traitorously blushing Knight and bows. "An excellent choice, my liege. That will cost 400 lains."
Beside you, Lord Aizawa huffs. "That's utter robbery, Your Majesty."
A sly grin creeps across Mei's face. The woman is clearly trying to provoke you! She's waiting to see what you will do, if you are still as prickly and sharp as she recalls. You open your mouth to prove just that. Suddenly you remember the crowd watching. You must barter, or you'll look weak in front of Mei. Perhaps your rivalry is not so one sided anymore.
It is not a skill you are particularly proud of, but due to the intricacies of Court politics, you have learned to become a rather gifted liar. You pretend that you've seen the item priced cheaper elsewhere, and Mei graciously tacks off fifty gold pieces. Then you decide to sweet talk her.
"Before we continue with this," you say, "thank you for giving me the chance to buy something from you in the first place. I know how highly your goods are valued. And I know that you're incredibly selective about who you sell to. So thank you, Lady Mei. It truly is an honor."
Mei's face softens. "My, my, Your Majesty, you are far too kind. Perhaps I can find a little more wiggle room in my margins…. Yes, I believe I could sell you the elixir for 300 lains. How would that suit?"
Behind your carefully curated mask of a sweet smile, you grin wicked and triumphant. Still, not good enough! You must push her even more, you must win undeniably!
"From the moment I saw this elixir, I knew you had something precious," you continue. "I desire this elixir not because I want the wit to deride my opponents— although that would be an added bonus— but because the sharper my mind is, the sharper my rule can be as well. And that will benefit everyone in Yuueii."
Mei stares at you for a long time in awe. What happened in the Jungle to make you so calm and patient? Eventually, she opens her mouth to speak. "I've had dozens of potential buyers today," she tells you. "Not one of them cared as deeply as you. The others— they all wanted the elixir because they thought they could sell for a profit in a few years. But you actually care, don't you? I'll tell you what. How about I give you my lowest possible price: 250 lains, and you have a deal."
"Excellent work, Your Majesty!" says Lord Aizawa.
She hands the elixir to Izuku to carry, whispering something in the man's ear that turns him bright red, and he almost drops the vial. Despite your victorious smile, you are internally fuming at the display. And the Knight knows it, looking down at his steel boots like a child anticipating a scolding. Your mind brews with all the ways you will punish him for this later, in private of course. Perhaps you will tie him up and mark all across his freckled skin to remind him of who he belongs to. Or touch yourself in front of his restrained form where he cannot reach, oh how he would hate that!
There's a gleam in Mei's hypnotic golden eyes. "It has been an absolute pleasure to do business with you, my Queen. You'd make an excellent merchant, if you ever wanted to change careers." And with that she waltzes away. Change careers? As if it was that simple. To think you had actually liked the irksome noblewoman.
You walk to the edge of the platform, waiting for the parade to start. Izuku approaches you with wide puppy dog eyes. You smile up at him, but the look is one of pure evil! He trembles in his suit of armor. The green haired Knight has faced armies of warriors countless times, but being on the receiving end of your ire is the only thing he truly fears.
A huge crowd lines either side of the Pearl Boulevard. Even more people lean out of windows and cluster on rooftops. The army's marching parade is the centerpiece of the festival, and it rightly deserves that title.
A bugle blows. The crowd hushes in expectation, and there's a sense of unity as Yuueii holds its breath.
A distant crash of armored footsteps breaks the silence. At the far end of the Pearl Boulevard, soldiers emerge from the siege barracks and march up toward the palace. They wear ceremonial costumes, chosen by you and designed to honor Yuueii's military might. The army marches down the Pearl Boulevard. Their boots clank against the cobblestones like the beating of a thousand drums, and the crowd claps in time with their steps.
A float emerges from the barracks. You designed this float specifically to pay respects to a figure from Yuueii's long history who you particularly admire: Himiko the Thief-Queen, to honor her cunning—even though this will offend the merchants. Given Mei's forwardness with your Knight, you cannot bring yourself to care much if the display gets under her skin.
According to folklore, Himiko stole so much from passing caravans that the King burned the forests where she was rumored to be hiding. The next day, the King's own crown was stolen— without him even noticing that it was missing from his head! Himiko continued to be a nuisance for the city's nobility for months. Because of the nobility's unpopularity at the time, the King eventually conceded, appointing her as his heir.
To honor Himiko, the float holds a dozen Ever-Burning Trees. A nimble dancer cloaked in black flickers between the flaming trunks, constantly evading another dancer who wears a wooden crown.
The side of the float is decorated with a painting of a long, sinuous, snake-like creature: the Wyrm Beneath. You remember the stories from your childhood. According to legend, the wyrm used to guard Yuueii. Created by the Cultivator herself, the wyrm could encircle a ship, and it was gifted with great magic and wisdom. These days, most people consider the tale nothing more than a fanciful myth. There's no way something as big as the wyrm could have existed in such a crowded city— not without obvious signs of its presence.
As the army and the float march toward the palace, the crowd chants and cheers. "Yuueii! Yuueii! Yuueii!"
You join in with the chant, swept up in the passion. Yuueii's citizens are united in this moment. After a month spent almost entirely in your office, it's an important reminder of what all the paperwork, headaches, and sacrifices are for.
It's for the father down on the Boulevard, lifting his daughter onto his shoulders so she can see the passing float. It's for the children clustered on a rooftop, gazing down at the marching soldiers with wide-eyed adoration. It's for the old woman looking out her window, a contented smile on her face.
The army marches up the castle's steps. Each soldier salutes you as they pass by and head into the palace. The float pauses at the base of the staircase. Soldiers unhitch the horses. Straining at the ropes, they pull the float up planks laid on the castle's steps, pulling it into the palace itself. Flowers burst into color across the castle walls, showering golden pollen out across the kingdom.
The crowd roars and cheers.
The Festival of the Cultivator is over.
You wave to the crowd, and then Lord Aizawa ushers you off the stage. As you head back toward the palace, a young soldier approaches you, wearing a smug expression.
"I have a message for the Queen," says the soldier.
You turn around curiously. What could it be?
"My message comes from the Warlord of the Skegg," says the soldier. "And here it is."
The soldier lunges at you, drawing his knife. Behind you, Lord Aizawa gasps, but he's much too far away to help.
You lurch backwards and touch a vine on a nearby wall. The plant responds to your commands, peeling off the wall and wrapping around the assassin like a constricting snake. The assassin falls to the ground.
Izuku sprints toward the assassin in a blur of green and plunges his sword into the man's side, killing him instantly. The Knight looks almost unrecognizable in his wrath, fierce and bloodthirsty.
You bear witness to the man's last breaths, the exact moment the light fades from the assassin's eyes. It is the first time you have ever seen someone perish right before you like this. You cannot look away from the blood pooling on your streets, the empty and vacant expression on the still warm corpse's face.
Shocked gasps ripple through the crowd. Lady Mei gapes at you in shock. Priestess Ibara makes a gesture with her fingers, warding against evil. Lord Aizawa frowns at the dead assassin. Your heart races in your chest.
Izuku wraps his steel-plated arm around your back, sheltering you protectively, and thankfully hiding the dead man from your sight. The Knight is soft and careful with you, completely juxtaposing the violent ferocity from just a moment ago. He moves to cup your face as his jade eyes scan you for any injuries before the Knight remembers that the two of you are in public. The thought of almost losing you, of not protecting you is far too much for him to bear, so Izuku shoves it down deep, shifting into a commanding tone he typically reserves for his soldiers.
"Quickly, Your Majesty! Into the castle, now."
He tries to lead you toward the palace, but before you can take more than a few steps, a bell rings out, much deeper than the other rings you have heard today. Actually, in all your years of living within the kingdom, you cannot recall ever hearing this sound.
Izuku curses, a rarity that stresses the severity of the current situation. "Change of plans. Your Majesty, we're needed at Yuueii's outer wall."
"Why?" asks Lady Mei, who strides toward you. "What does that bell mean?"
"Bad news," says the Knight. "That bell means Yuueii is under attack."