Masked empress?
Alexander had never heard of such a person, and as such his expression grew considerably more confused. "Masked Empress?" He echoed, "Who is that?"
"You don't know her?!" André asked in surprise, "She's practically famous over in the Fallen Kingdom, one of the best pathfinder initiates of their Royal academy."
Alexander glanced over at André, "Seriously?" He asked, "I never heard of her, even before I left home."
In fact, after Alexander left his kingdom he wasn't even sure it still existed. Not that he had much of a chance to learn, as Béatrice was strict.
André grabbed his forehead with an expression of disbelief. "You're from House Daname? Béatrice never said a word."
"I guess it's not impossible you don't know of her, she became popular about two years ago." The redhead said with a contemplative nod, "but you'd have to practically be isolated from the world those two years."
Alexander winced, the boy's words hitting hard, "Yeah, I pretty much spent the last three years training and didn't have time to socialize." He answered awkwardly.
The boy nodded understandably, "Ahh, well I suppose that's why you haven't heard of her title, but surely you knew her in passing, right?"
Alexander closed his eyes as he raised a hand to his chin. Softly stroking it, Alexander thought back on his family and everyone he knew.
"How old is this masked empress?" Alexander asked aloud.
"She's thirteen, in her third year." The redhead answered, "And if it helps, she's quite tall."
Alexander began thinking deeply.
There were his brothers, who were attending their respective academies during the war. They might not have been the empress herself, but perhaps it was one of their girlfriends?
No, Alexander quickly dismissed the thought, his brothers were adults around now, and if alive they definitely wouldn't be messing with a young girl.
Could it have been Ava then?
No absolutely not, for one she was much older than thirteen, maybe around sixteen if she was alive now. Not only that, but Ava was more of a practical genius, not a sword prodigy.
The only other person that came to mind was Marcia.
As the thought of her crossed his mind, a flash of her burned and bloodied body popped into his mind, startling him. "Nooo!" Alexander shouted in fear as he jolted back in his seat.
His heart began racing as the image of her body continued flashing, the smell of blood growing pungent as his breathing grew rapid.
"Alexander!" André shouted as he quickly moved to comfort him, "Alexander what happened?!"
Alexander's chest tightened as the sight of her corpse bore deep in his mind.
Blood streaked down a large boulder, beginning from where she had been thrown and leading to where her body now lay slouched.
Her clothes were burned and her skin was bruised. Wounds leaked blood like rivers of crimson, and her eyes were lifeless and glossy.
He had suppressed those memories for so long that seeing them again sent him into shock. "No, no!" Alexander cried as tears formed at the edge of his eyes, "She's gone, she's…"
Alexander began to sob heavily as his fists tightened and his body shivered. "No, she can't be… she… Maria."
Surprised by the sudden screams, everyone in the shop rushed to the front. As they entered, they were greeted with a trembling Alexander being held tightly by André.
Alexander looked as if he had just seen a ghost, his face paler than usual with tears streaming down his cheeks. His breathing was shallow and shaken as he lay limp in André's embrace.
"Hey, it's okay," André said softly, attempting to soothe Alexander. "You're okay, whatever it is I won't let it hurt you, I promise."
Alexander continued to sob as he closed his eyes. His thoughts repeated the same phrase over and over.
She's gone, she's gone, She's gone, she's gone, She's gone, she's gone, She's gone, she's gone…
The atmosphere in the shop grew heavy with tension, as an uneasy silence fell upon everyone.
"What is the meaning of this?" Béatrice asked, her voice sharp as she made her way towards Alexander and André.
André looked at her with a desperate expression as he shook his head. "I don't know," he replied, a look of sadness and confusion shone in his eyes. "But I wish I did because Alexander is frightened out of his mind."
Béatrice narrowed her eyes, but it wasn't out of anger. She had a look that hinted at confusion, like she was at a loss for words.
Louise however, who stood just behind Béatrice, had a sneaking suspicion of what could be wrong.
She had seen Alexander like this one other time, and it was right after his father and friend died.
She remembered him waking up screaming, claiming reality wasn't real, and that he had to die to go back home.
As Louise thought back to that moment, her cold demeanor began to crack and a deep frown crossed her lips.
She had thought Alexander had long since moved past that day, but now it looked as if he was actively reliving that fateful day.
The moment seemed to stretch into eternity as Alexander's quiet sobs filled the once-peaceful shop.
Suddenly Béatrice broke the silence again, the sounds of her heels clicking as she reached a hand towards Alexander.
André spotted her approaching and quickly stood up. "Wait, Béatrice whatever you–"
Béatrice ignored André, brushing past him as she grabbed the side of Alexander's face, "Listen, whatever you're going through you need to pull yourself together." She began sternly, her eyes narrowed as she shook the side of Alexander's head. "This isn't the place, nor the time to cry your tears of sorrow."
"Béatrice!" André called her name in disbelief, "What are you saying, he's not a soldier, that's a kid!"
Béatrice glared up at Ben. "Then you shouldn't have let this happen." Her words were cold, colder than usual, far colder than usual.
She then turned her attention back towards Alexander. "Now pull yourself together, because I'm only going to ask you once."
Alexander, though his tears continued to fall, pressed his lips together firmly.
His expression was distraught and his eyes were closed.
But his sobs grew silent.
Béatrice then pulled Alexander out of his seat by the collar. "Now come, time is of the essence."
As she pulled Alexander out of his seat, she turned her attention back towards the tailor. "You, you'll be getting his measurements next."
The tailor, who stood with a sympathetic expression, sighed. "Lady Béatrice, maybe it's best–"
"Are you suggesting for me?" Béatrice asked angrily, "Learn your place before I put you in it." She threatened, pointing a finger towards him.
The tailor flinched as he hurried and took a step back. "M-my humblest apologies lady Béatrice, I spoke out of turn."
"Bétrince, that is no way for a lady to act," Alice, the woman from earlier, said in a calm voice as she approached Béatrice as if she were a wild animal. "Surely you understand that."
Béatrice frowned as she glared at Alice. "Don't you dare speak to me like we're equals." She threatened, "You don't know me, and I don't want to know your opinion."
Alice placed a hand over her chest, tightening her hand into a fist as she glanced at Alexander.
He hung in Béatrice's grasp like a broken doll, his hair covering his tear-filled face.
Alice then glanced at her son, who had a worried expression and frightened expression.
Alice then sighed as she stepped back from Béatrice. "m-my apologies." She finally stammered, "I was mistaken."
"Mother…" the redhead called to Alice, his tone filled with confusion.
But Alice simply shook her head as she ignored her son.
Béatrice scoffed as he began dragging Alexander towards the fitting room. "Now let's get this finished, there's more I need to do."
The tailor quickly nodded as he followed Béatrice into the fitting room.
As the trio disappeared, André found himself tightening his fists in frustration. "I won't let this go." He muttered, "I can't."
Louise looked at her uncle with a pang of guilt flashing in her eyes.
Part of her wanted to agree, to stand against her mother, but another part of her knew it was pointless.
Béatrice was not a compassionate woman, so neither could Louise, as compassion was weakness and weakness leads to failure.
— — —
After some time had passed and the group finished up in the tailor shop, Ben found himself driving the group back home.
Beside in the passenger seat was Béatrice, who looked out the window with a cold and composed expression.
André felt his jaw tightening as he glanced over at Béatrice, his mind raced with questions and anger.
"Focus on the road," Béatrice ordered, catching André glaring at her. "I don't have time for your theatrics."
André let out a scoff as his hands tightened around the steering wheel. "You know," André began, narrowing his eyes as he focused on the road. "I knew you were a difficult woman, when my brother introduced you to the family I could just see it in your eyes, that wickedness you carry."
Béatrice didn't bother with a response, instead, she let out a long sigh and crossed her legs.
The tension in the limousine was palpable, thick with frustrations from both parties.
"I remember telling my brother that you didn't care for him, that you only married to get into our family." André continued, his anger boiling with every word he spoke. "And you know what he told me?" He asked, rolling his lips, "he told me he knew, he said from the moment he met you, he knew the only thing you wanted was access to the family."
Béatrice raised an eyebrow as she glanced at André. "What?" She muttered coldly, a hint of disbelief in her tone.
André smirked, but it wasn't one of happiness, more so satisfaction. "I couldn't believe it either, I called him all sorts of names and insults, and he just laughed at me, ruffling my hair as he laughed."
André then nodded solemnly, "When he finished laughing, he took a chair and sat me down. He then stood in front of me, arms crossed as he looked down.
He then told me again that he knew you never cared about him, about our family. I remember asking him why he would agree to marry someone who didn't care for us.
And he just shook his head with a smile, saying, 'Because André, Béatrice will help me fix everything, she may not care emotionally, but she knows what must be done, and that's what I need.'
I almost couldn't believe him when he said that, but when I looked in his face I didn't see a joke, I saw my brother, genuinely willing to sacrifice his love life for our family.
And I remember from that day forward, I swore to respect his choice and the woman he chose to marry."
André then shook his head, tears bubbling in his eyes. "But after today, after what you just pulled, I can't help but question my brother again." André's lip began to quiver, "From the day he married you to the day he died, I can only imagine the hell you put him through."
"Coming home to a place that's not filled with love, but hatred, to lay with a woman who couldn't give a shit about him, to have the woman who saw you as nothing but a power grab bare your children!"
André's voice cracked, his emotions spilling out raw and unfiltered. "Do you even realize what you've done?! What have you done to my family, to my brother!? You strut around carrying our name like it's a badge of honor, turning our family into a war machine of nothing more than senseless slaughter and profit! And for what!? What was it all for?!?!"
André began to speed up as his voice climbed, "You've ruined everything, you cold heartless bitch!" André then shook his head as his grip loosened.
"But this is it," he continued, his voice growing lower, firm with resolve. "I'm calling off our engagement, and taking the Nova name back from your cold, dead, hands."
For a moment the limousine was quiet, with only the sound of the engine rumble filling the air.
Then there was a soft laugh from Béatrice, that slowly morphed into a mocking cackle. "Please, you couldn't be half the man your brother was, not that there was much size up to." She said, turning her head to show her piercing gaze. "You're nothing more than an idealistic fool who sees the world not for what it is, but what you want it to be."
She then leaned an arm on the door, "You will never tear down what I've built, just as you could never help your brother achieve his goals." She then laughed further, "That's why your father forced our engagement because he knew you needed me far more than I needed you."
André gritted his teeth as he glared at Béatrice. "I can't believe I ever tried to care for you, that I was dumb enough to think you were different…"
As the two argued up front, Alexander sat lifeless in the backseat, his mind thoroughly broken after today's events.
Louise, who sat beside him, kept her attention on the passing scenery, not wanting to focus on what was happening in the background.
The pathfinder meanwhile, looked down at his feet, unsure of what to do or say.
The argument continued for the next five minutes until finally André gave up. "…fine." He muttered, "But you're going to change Béatrice, I'll make sure of it."
Béatrice scoffed as she turned her attention back towards the window. "Hmm, whatever you say, just don't expect me to care."
André frowned as he narrowed his eyes. "You will."