*Clack*
As the magical whirlwind subsided, my heels tapped softly against the cool marble floor, the sound echoing in the sudden stillness. I had teleported away from the tumultuous scene, arriving in my mother's chamber at Helia Palace, where opulent decor and thick air with memories and expectations; felt both comforting and suffocating at once.
-Helia Palace; Roxana's Room, Afternoon-
In the opulent confines of Helia Palace, the afternoon sun streamed through the intricately carved windows, illuminating mother's room like a spotlight on a stage—too bad I was the only one in the audience. I sat there, fingers running through my hair, feeling like I was trying to untangle a particularly stubborn ball of yarn. I should've used the teleportation magic sooner. Seriously, what was I thinking? My thoughts spiraled into a pit of self-recrimination.
Sigh. What now? I thought, staring up at the ceiling as if it were about to drop a life-changing revelation on me. My hands clenched my hair tighter, as if it might magically pull me out of this mess. I'm back now, but where are Myla and Mylo? Should I just summon Veles? The mere thought sent a shiver down my spine—Veles alone with me? Yeah, that's like inviting a wolf into a henhouse and expecting him to bake cookies.
Alright then. I'll just go find them. The decision settled in my mind like a rock in my shoe—uncomfortable but necessary. I pushed myself off the bed and rushed to leave the room, only to be greeted by an unsettling emptiness in the corridors. It felt like stepping into a ghost town where even the ghosts had better things to do. Nonetheless, it was better than having someone stare into my soul.
Hmm...Myla is probably in the kitchen or outside, maybe hanging clothes on the line like some medieval laundry maid. I'll check there first. With that thought guiding me, I stepped into the vastness of the palace's corridors. The paths twisted and turned like they were auditioning for a role in a horror movie, and for a moment, I felt lost—really lost. I had always relied on servants to navigate these halls; memorizing routes had never been necessary for someone as important as me.
As I wandered aimlessly, trying to shake off the feeling of being adrift in an ocean of opulence, I finally spotted someone—a maid pushing a serving cart filled with an array of desserts and steaming tea. It was as if.............................. they were preparing..............for a................guest? I don't know if the maid was blind or not to notice me, but let's go check the host of this little tea party. As my curiosity piqued, I closed the distance between me and the door of the room to investigate further.
I approached the door and peeked inside.
TENSE. AWKWARD. UNCOOPERATIVE. If there were better words to describe the atmosphere in that room, they eluded me—like my last pair of socks after laundry day. Daleyza and Isabella sat there, their expressions so stiff they could have been made of marble. And then there was the guest—a woman dressed impeccably in fine fabrics that screamed "I have too much money and not enough personality." Her dull blonde hair was pulled back into a bun so tight it looked like it could launch satellites.
Should I take this to my advantage? A mischievous thought flitted through my mind as I weighed my options—what's life without a little chaos?
"MAAMAMAMMAMAAAAAAAAA! Mama! I missssssssed you soooooooo much!" I exclaimed suddenly, bursting into the room, running like a professional athlete and wrapping my arms around Daleyza in an exaggerated hug that could only be described as Olympic-level enthusiasm.
"HUH?" came the startled chorus from all three women, their faces morphing into expressions that suggested they had just bitten into something very sour.
"Mama, did you miss me?" I asked excitedly, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes while keeping my arms still wrapped around her neck—our faces only centimeters apart. It was intimate enough to make anyone uncomfortable.
Isabella's expression shifted to one of disapproval; her brow furrowed deeply as if she had just discovered that her favorite dessert was made with kale instead of chocolate. The guest mirrored her discontent but added an air of superiority that suggested she expected more decorum from me—like she already knew who I was and what kind of chaos I could unleash.
Is it just me? Or is this guest giving off a strange aura? My instincts prickled with uncertainty as I scrutinized her closely—was she wearing perfume or just radiating judgment? Despite that nagging feeling in my gut, I pressed on with my act—my need for connection outweighing my caution.
Without shame or self-respect (which is really saying something), I plopped down beside Isabella on the couch, determined to maintain this charade even if it felt precarious—like balancing on a tightrope made of spaghetti.
-A Room in Helia Palace; Afternoon-
As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting long shadows across the opulent palace gardens, the air inside the royal reception hall crackled with tension. The gilded walls, adorned with intricate tapestries depicting the kingdom's glorious history, seemed to close in around us, amplifying the charged atmosphere. Crystal chandeliers cast a warm, flickering light over the assembled nobles, their faces a mixture of curiosity, apprehension, and barely concealed ambition.
"Ah, please excuse the Late Empress's child, Lady Kaelith," Daleyza's voice rang out, shattering the tense silence. Her words dripped with honeyed politeness, each syllable carefully crafted to convey both deference and authority. I watched with barely concealed amusement as she bent low, her elaborate coiffure—a towering confection of braids, jewels, and delicate silk flowers—threatening to topple from the exaggerated motion.
Daleyza's gown, a masterpiece of midnight blue silk embroidered with silver thread, rustled softly as she moved. The sound seemed to echo in the suddenly hushed room, drawing all eyes to her performance. It was a rare sight indeed, to see her prostrate herself so thoroughly for such a trivial matter. The Queen, known for her iron will and sharp tongue, was not one to bow easily to anyone, let alone a young noblewoman barely out of childhood.
As I observed this display of obsequiousness, my mind wandered, contemplating the lineage of Lady Kaelith. Which illustrious household could have produced such a guest, worthy of Daleyza's groveling? The question lingered in my mind, even as the conversation around me devolved into meaningless prattle. Words flew like water over smooth stones, leaving no impression, yet I found myself straining to catch every nuance, every subtle inflection that might reveal the true nature of our mysterious visitor.
Lady Kaelith herself was a study in contrasts. Her youth was evident in the softness of her features and the brightness of her eyes, yet there was a wisdom and wariness in her gaze that spoke of experiences beyond her years. Her gown, while exquisitely made, was simpler than those of the courtiers surrounding her, its pale lavender hue a stark contrast to the riot of colors favored by the royal court. She stood straight-backed and poised, her chin lifted slightly in a gesture that could be interpreted as either confidence or defiance.
Suddenly, Isabella's whisper sliced through the air like a razor-sharp dagger, cutting through my musings. "Sister," she hissed, her fake smile never wavering as her face remained a masterpiece of false congeniality. Her emerald eyes, usually sparkling with mischief, now glinted with barely suppressed fury. "If you do something like that once more, please be aware of the price you'll have to pay."
I couldn't help but smirk inwardly at her attempt at intimidation. Isabella, for all her cunning and charm, had never quite mastered the art of subtle threats. Her words, meant to strike fear, instead amused me. Turning to her, I matched her saccharine tone with my own, my voice a silky purr that belied the steel beneath.
"Isabella," I said, my words dripping with false sweetness, but laced with unmistakable threat. "If you think I'm bluffing, feel free to test me. I'd hate for you to discover the cost of your overconfidence the hard way."
As I spoke, I allowed a hint of my true nature to show through the carefully constructed facade I presented to the court. My eyes, usually warm and inviting, turned cold and hard as polished obsidian. The smile that graced my lips held no warmth, instead promising retribution should she dare to challenge me further.
I could practically feel the waves of irritation radiating off Isabella as she struggled to maintain her composure. Her fingers, adorned with rings of gold and precious gems, twitched slightly, as if longing to ball into fists. A faint flush crept up her neck, barely visible beneath the layers of powder and rouge she favored. Rolling my eyes, I let my own facade slip back into its usual cold mask, the brief flash of emotion disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.
As I turned my attention back to our guest, I noticed something intriguing. Lady Kaelith seemed to be taking an unusually long time to respond to Daleyza's overwrought welcome, carefully weighing each word before speaking. Her eyes, a striking shade of violet that hinted at her royal lineage, darted between the assembled courtiers, assessing and cataloging each face, each reaction. It was clear she was playing her own game, one with rules and stakes that remained frustratingly opaque to me.
The air in the room seemed to thicken, charged with unspoken tensions and half-formed alliances. The soft rustle of silk and the gentle clink of jewels provided a constant undercurrent to the stilted conversation, a reminder of the wealth and power concentrated in this single chamber. Courtiers shifted restlessly, their painted smiles barely concealing their burning curiosity about the newcomer in their midst.
Deciding it was time to shake things up, to shatter the carefully maintained veneer of civility and see what truths might be revealed in the chaos, I gathered my courage and my wits. With a sudden burst of energy that startled those nearest to me, I exclaimed, "OH! Please. You can speak comfortably to Mommy, she's super duper used to being insulted, harassed, blamed, made to pay the price and all sorts of things, so be comfortable!"
The shock on Daleyza and Isabella's faces was priceless, a tableau of disbelief that I wished I could preserve for posterity. Their jaws dropped, eyes wide with a mixture of horror and disbelief. Daleyza's carefully applied rouge stood out starkly against her suddenly pale skin, while Isabella's mouth worked soundlessly, as if trying to form words that simply wouldn't come.
Even our guest seemed taken aback by my outburst, her composure slipping for just a moment to reveal genuine surprise. The other courtiers froze in place, their expressions a comical mix of shock, scandalized delight, and poorly concealed glee at this break in decorum. The silence that followed my words was absolute, broken only by the soft ticking of the ornate clock in the corner and the distant call of a nightingale in the gardens beyond.
Just as I was savoring the moment of stunned silence, reveling in the chaos I had unleashed with a few well-chosen words, Lady Kaelith surprised me with her reply. "Same goes for my mother," she said, her smile matching the brilliance of my own. "She's gone through even worse."
I felt a thrill of excitement at her audacity, a spark of kinship with this young woman who dared to match my irreverence. Comparing her mother's experiences to those of the Queen was a bold move, one that could have serious consequences in our world of rigid hierarchies and easily bruised egos. It was a calculated risk, a challenge thrown down in the midst of this gathering of power and influence.
The room, which had been holding its collective breath, suddenly erupted into a flurry of whispers and meaningful glances. Fans fluttered rapidly, concealing lips that moved in hurried conversation. The rustle of fabric grew louder as courtiers leaned towards one another, eager to share their interpretations of this unprecedented exchange.
As expected, Daleyza's composure shattered like fine crystal dropped onto marble floors. She rose from her seat, her movements sharp and jerky, a far cry from her usual fluid grace. Her face, moments ago a mask of polite interest, was now flushed with anger, two bright spots of color high on her cheekbones. Her eyes, usually a warm brown, now blazed with fury.
"How ludicrous of you," she spat, her voice trembling with barely contained rage. The honeyed tones of earlier were gone, replaced by a harsh, grating sound that seemed to scrape against the ears of all present. "There are countless women of far greater caliber than yourself in this world. I would advise you to make your departure with haste."
The temperature in the room seemed to drop several degrees as Daleyza's words hung in the air. Courtiers shrank back, trying to make themselves as inconspicuous as possible in the face of the Queen's wrath. Even Isabella, usually so quick with a cutting remark or a sly dig, remained silent, her eyes darting between Daleyza and Lady Kaelith as if watching a particularly intense game of chess.
Lady Kaelith, to her credit, maintained her poise in the face of this onslaught. If anything, she seemed to grow calmer as Daleyza's anger mounted, her posture relaxing slightly as if shedding a heavy burden. "As you wish, Your Majesty," she said, her voice steady and clear. She rose gracefully, her movements unhurried despite the palpable tension in the room. With a deep, perfectly executed bow that somehow managed to convey both respect and a hint of mockery, she took her leave.
As Lady Kaelith's footsteps faded down the long corridor outside, I could practically see the gears turning in Daleyza's mind. Her anger, momentarily directed at our departed guest, was now seeking a new target. And I had a sinking feeling I knew exactly where that fury would land.
Daleyza rose fully, her anger palpable and her movements jerky with rage. The air around her seemed to crackle with barely contained energy, and I knew exactly what was coming. But before she could fully unleash her fury, I had already begun my strategic retreat.
Years of navigating the treacherous waters of court politics had honed my instincts to a razor's edge. As Daleyza turned her fury towards me, her mouth opening to unleash what would undoubtedly be a blistering tirade, I saw my opportunity. In the blink of an eye, I slipped away, leaving room for only supressed spleen and aggravated choler.
To be Continued...