"I would relish having someone with whom to share tea conversations once more. "
" You know, your mother and I were close friends in those days," the queen added, a nostalgic smile touching her lips.
Eveloria blinked twice in surprise, her expression shifting to one of pure wonder and joy.
"She was the sole believer in my abilities when I, myself, lacked faith," Eveloria spoke, her voice holding a hint of sorrow that she swiftly composed.
"After my mother's passing, my father remarried. I, the supposedly useless eldest daughter, couldn't master my family's sword technique," she chuckled dryly, the humor sounding a tad forced.
"Yet, your mother extended immense support and guidance. Now, I stand as the foremost swordswoman, surpassing all potential contenders of my generation." With a graceful gesture, she raised her teacup, its rim momentarily touching her nose before it met her lips once more. "What I wish to convey is that your moment to shine is on the horizon."
As the cup lowered, Eveloria's gaze was absorbed by her reflection in the polished surface.
The queen lifted her head to meet Eveloria's eyes, a solemnity overtaking the earlier joviality. Her words resonated with a weight that tugged at Eveloria's chest. "You possess a unique quality, Lady Eveloria," she continued.
Eveloria inclined her head, her voice respectful. "Thank you, Your Majesty."
"Let's shift our focus now," the queen interjected, her hand waving dismissively. "What if we discuss the prospect of you marrying my son? He is far more suitable than Gavriel, I assure you."
Eveloria's eyes widened in astonishment. "Your Majesty, I beg your pardon."
With a broad smile that revealed gleaming teeth, the queen reassured her, "Don't take it to heart, Lady Eveloria. I'm merely jesting. I'm convinced Lucian would marry you off to Gavriel , for sure."
Eveloria's response was a wry smile as she mused, 'She addresses them by their first names as if it's nothing. Her Majesty is quite carefree.'
The queen pressed further, "But the real question is, do you have any inclination to marry Gavriel?"
Eveloria's brow furrowed slightly as she considered, 'I don't want to get married to Lord Gavriel, and I'm not a good match for Prince Alistair.'
Her lips parted briefly before closing again, the pause catching the queen's attention. "Lady Eveloria, what's on your mind? Share with me," the queen urged, her tone laced with concern.
"It's trivial, Your Majesty. When the time comes, I'll marry whomever I choose," Eveloria replied.
"Ah," the queen exhaled, her eyebrows knitting together in a mild frown while she pouted slightly. "A rather uninspiring answer, I must say. I had hoped for a miniature version of Genevieve as a daughter-in-law," she sighed, placing a delicate finger to her lips, feigning disappointment.
Eveloria's lips curved, a suppressed chuckle causing her shoulders to shake gently.
"Join me for a stroll through my garden," the queen proposed, rising from her seat.
Eveloria followed without hesitation, maintaining her composed demeanor as she moved alongside the queen.
In that fleeting moment, Eveloria remained blissfully unaware that a certain pair of magenta orbs was keenly observing her every move.
Seated upon the window sill in his study, he let his feet dangle over the edge while the breeze ruffled through his golden hair. Gaze fixated on Eveloria, he watched as she walked alongside the queen, their conversation carried to him by the wind.
"I knew it, a smile will suit her," he murmured, words slipping beneath his breath.
An involuntary upward curve tugged at his lips, a subtle smirk gracing his features. For a fleeting instant, his eyes sparkled like diamonds kissed by sunlight, radiating warmth, affection, and adoration for the girl before him. 'Should I approach her?' his thoughts pondered, a whisper that teased his mind.
A sudden grip on his shoulder jolted him from his reverie. His attention swiftly shifted to the person who had intruded upon his thoughts. Before him stood a young man, fiery red hair aglow in the light of the sun, his gaze a striking shade of crimson. Angular features lent his face an almost harsh aspect, sharp like a blade, while his stare bore an icy intensity.
"Star, what on earth are you doing ?" he questioned.
Alistair's expression was a blend of nerves and a sheepish smile as he retorted, "Ah, Sirius, how did you manage to find me ?"
Sirius shot his friend a sidelong glance, his deep crimson eyes narrowing ever so slightly. "We were right in the middle of a sparring match! How could you just leave like that?"
Lord Sirius Crimsonblade, the elder sibling of Seraphina Crimsonblade and heir to the formidable Crimsonblade lineage. He also happened to be the prince's closest confidant.
There was a darkening intensity in Sirius' gaze that bordered on irritation. "Apologies, I seem to have forgotten about our match," Alistair murmured softly, the silence between them growing palpably awkward.
"Star!" Sirius's exasperated voice resonated as he seized Alistair's collar, pulling him closer with a firm grip and shaking him roughly.
As Sirius released his grip and stepped back, his arms crossed over his chest, Alistair's eyebrow arched in mild surprise. "Hmm, no punches? You must be in an exceptionally good mood," Alistair quipped sheepishly, wriggling his eyebrows playfully, a smile dancing at the corner of his lips.
"Could it be because your sister is joining the junior cadets?" he inquired with a teasing inflection.
Sirius emitted a snort. "Oh, I'm more than pleased she's joining up. It's my chance to settle the score with that little mischief-maker by playing around with her training regimen. After all, I'll be in charge of them now. That rascal has caused me no end of trouble during our days at home."
The sly smirk on Alistair's face gradually dissipated as he absorbed the implications of Sirius's words.
"..."
Rolling his eyes at Alistair's dumbfounded expression, Sirius couldn't help but react with a mixture of amusement and exasperation.
"I've given up trying to fathom your sibling dynamics," Alistair admitted in an undertone, his tone tinged with mild bewilderment.
***
"So, Eveloria is currently at the royal palace," Gavriel inquired of Lucian.
Lucian's nod was accompanied by a flurry of thoughts: 'The Coming of Age ceremony highlighted Eveloria's lack of swordwielding prowess. Her situation might mirror the queen's—late manifestation—or perhaps she...'
"Are you even paying attention?" Gavriel interjected, halting Lucian's internal musings.
Momentarily jolted, Lucian refocused and met Gavriel's gaze. "I apologize. It seems my mind wandered. Please, continue."
Gavriel took a deep breath, visibly relaxing. "Well, I'll bide my time until Eveloria returns home."
Lucian's nod conveyed agreement, and he added, "Feel free to explore while you wait."
"Sure thing," Gavriel responded with a grin before exiting Lucian's study.
A sigh escaped Lucian's lips. 'Though, in the grand scheme of things, it may not hold much weight, considering that she's to marry Gavriel.'
Leaning against the sofa's armrest, he interlocked his fingers behind his head, sinking into contemplation.
***
Whistling a light, cheerful tune that barely rose above a whisper, Gavriel strolled along the corridor leading to the gardens. The hallways lay hushed and unoccupied, save for the occasional glimpse of passing servants.
His footfalls created a soft symphony of echoes as he gradually slowed his pace, attention snagged by the sight of Briana coming toward him from the opposite direction. Her flowing azure gown swayed elegantly with each step, and her cascading blonde tresses danced in rhythm with her movements.
Briana's strides seemed to mirror his own, a silent synchrony of feet upon the polished floor. Abruptly halting, her eyes widened with surprise as she locked gazes with Gavriel. A faint blush tinged her cheeks, and she discreetly dismissed the maids she had been conversing with before approaching him.
With a graceful bow, she offered, "Greetings, Lord Gavriel."
A composed throat clearing preceded her next words, delivered in a hushed tone. "We need to have a conversation," she whispered urgently.
Gavriel's eyebrow arched, a knowing smirk tugging at his lips. "All right," he responded, a sense of anticipation in his voice.
Casting a furtive glance around, Briana leaned in closer and whispered, "We need a more private place."
Without hesitation, she grasped his arm, leading him to a nearby door on the right that opened into the library.
Stepping inside, they closed the door behind them with a hushed click. As they stood facing each other, a charged silence lingered between them. Gavriel's quizzical gaze met Briana's, his brow subtly furrowing in inquiry.
With a touch of anxiousness, Briana chewed on her lower lip before finally speaking. "Lord Gavriel, did you come here to see Eveloria?"
A sly smile curved Gavriel's lips as he responded, "Yes, and why do you ask?"
A sigh escaped Briana's lips, her tension palpable. "I can't keep this to myself any longer. I despise this uncertainty. I know you're not particularly fond of her, so why, Gavriel? Why have you never sent me letters or gifts? We shared a connection previously, didn't we?" Her words were laden with frustration, her breath taken in a deep inhalation as she endeavored to regain her composure.
Gavriel's expression twisted into one of confusion as he tried to make sense of her outburst. Eventually, he inquired, "Are you asking for letters and gifts from me?"
Briana's gaze remained unyielding, her words resolute. "Yes, I am, and I miss you, Gavriel. And I..." She faltered for a moment before regaining her footing, "I love you."
Gavriel stood rooted to the spot, his expression a mask of blank astonishment. 'She's truly shameless and clearly out of her mind,' he mused, a glint of amusement flickering in his eyes.
A soft, almost disbelieving scoff escaped him as he retorted, "I am engaged to your sister. Naturally, my affection is meant for her. We are not entangled in any sort of relationship, so why should your feelings concern me?"
A cunning thought crossed his mind, and he acted on it. Taking a step forward, he placed his hands on her shoulders, locking his gaze with her amber eyes. "We are not lovers, and it's unreasonable to expect such affection from me," he declared, his voice lowered as he leaned in. His whisper carried a challenging undertone, "Besides, you can't be sure if I reciprocate your feelings."
As he withdrew, his eyes met hers once more, their intensity unrelenting. A stunned and incredulous expression flitted across Briana's face. 'No way! He must be teasing,' she pondered, attempting to decipher his intentions. Just as she was lost in her thoughts, a mischievous grin curved his lips, his gaze drifting downward to rest upon her curves.
The silence hung between them for a moment before Briana's voice, filled with audacity, broke it. "I see. Then, shall we become lovers?"