They say having it all is a joy.
They say freedom to chase your desires is a blessing.
And while that may be true, it doesn't hold for everything.
For there are things beyond reach, and even in a world of endless possibilities, having and doing it all is but a fleeting dream.
Althea might embody this notion. As the daughter of a ruling Noble Duke in the Vermillion Empire, her life was far from comfortable. Burdens stacked on her shoulders, obliging her to excel in all things. Every move she made was scrutinized, every misstep-like an accidental hand placement on her cup-was seen as incompetence.
At first, Althea didn't mind. Let them judge. She knew most were simply envious. Her family had the second greatest power after the imperial family itself. Over the past hundred years her family had never failed to produce great knights to strengthen the empire's military. Even if it had to be compared, the military power his family had could be said to be much stronger than the military power of the empire itself. It's no wonder people sought to curry favor with her family. Yet, despite this, Althea's family loyalty to the Vermillion Empire never wavered, maintaining a strong bond with the imperial family to this day.
As a Duke's family, Althea's parents held significant roles. Her father, Duke Oswin Perceval Brightlance, was renowned as a formidable and commanding Grand Marshal, always leading from the front lines during wars-a true military mastermind of the Empire, as people often said. The Brightlance family's influence was unmatched among the nobility. Despite their envy, no one dared to oppose them openly.
Althea's mother, Valeria Kynaira Brightlance, also played a crucial role in the noble social sphere. Her wisdom and elegance were often likened to that of the Empress of the Vermillion Empire, yet she never incited jealousy. Valeria's gentleness and kindness made her impossible to despise. While she lacked her husband's physical prowess and military skills, her qualities were deemed more than sufficient for her role as the Duke's wife.
But it wasn't Althea's parents' amazing feats that made others demand perfection from her.
The true culprits were her two older siblings.
Among Duke Brightlance's three children, Althea was considered the least talented. Not because she was foolish or unworthy, but because her siblings had set the bar impossibly high.
Her eldest sister, Calestia Isabelle Brightlance, was a paragon of strength and grace. She was knighted as a Dame at an exceptionally young age, a testament to her hard-earned merit rather than privilege. Calestia's tactical brilliance and combat skills were vividly displayed during the war with the Elluxia Kingdom four years prior, marking her as an invaluable asset. Her remarkable abilities clearly mirrored those of her father.
Calestia's talents extended far beyond the military. Despite the rigors of her profession, she retained an elegance and poise that left a lasting impression on everyone she met. With her striking features-black hair cascading in soft waves, sharp grey eyes that seemed to pierce through deception, and a lithe, commanding presence -Calestia was the embodiment of both beauty and power. Her presence was magnetic, drawing admiration and respect from all corners of the empire.
In the political arena, Calestia was equally formidable. Her sharp intellect and eloquence allowed her to navigate court intrigues with ease. She famously silenced the empire's political rulers with a single, incisive phrase, demonstrating her keen understanding of governance and diplomacy. Her wit and wisdom made her a respected figure among nobles and commoners alike.
Calestia's social skills were another facet of her multifaceted personality. Despite her high status and formidable reputation, she remained approachable and warm-hearted. She forged genuine friendships across all social strata, her kindness transcending the barriers of caste. Her ability to connect with people from all walks of life made her beloved among the empire's populace. Even those who might have harbored jealousy found it difficult to resent her, such was the disarming nature of her charm and generosity.
Then there was her brother, Alastair Kenneth Brightlance, was a figure who needed no introduction. His very presence at any noble gathering was enough to leave onlookers in awe. Althea often found herself marveling at his effortless charisma and undeniable good looks. His chiseled features, piercing grey but yellowish eyes, and a head of silver almost white, flowing hair made him the epitome of aristocratic beauty.
But Alastair was far more than just a handsome face. At 23, he had already risen to the esteemed position of Deputy Knight Commander, a rank few could dream of attaining at such a young age. His combat skills were legendary, and his strategic mind was unparalleled, even within the storied Brightlance family. Many whispered that if the Duke were to step down, Alastair would be the natural successor to his Dukedom.
Alastair's intelligence was another aspect of his formidable persona. He had been nicknamed the second Prodigy at Vermillion Academy, a title second only to the crown prince himself. His academic achievements were matched by his eloquence and quick wit, making him a favorite in both military councils and noble courts. He could effortlessly navigate the complex web of court politics, often emerging victorious in debates and discussions.
Despite his many accomplishments, Alastair remained approachable and kind, a trait that endeared him to many. He had a knack for making people feel at ease, and his genuine interest in others' well-being was apparent. It was no wonder that noblewomen swooned at the mere mention of his name, and had he not been engaged, he would have had a queue of young noble girls vying for his attention.
Because of this, Althea's possessions were largely overlooked by others. Within the Brightlance family, she often seemed like a mere echo, overshadowed by the larger-than-life presence of her siblings. Calestia's legendary deeds and Alastair's high rank in the Knight Command left Althea's own achievements feeling small by comparison. This contrast served as a continual reminder of her supposed shortcomings.
Socially, Althea struggled to make her mark. Her interactions with others were limited, and she had formed only one notable friendship among the noble circles: Rannyra, the daughter of a baron. Many whispered that Rannyra's friendship stemmed from a sense of pity for Althea's solitude rather than genuine camaraderie. The Brightlance family's overwhelming influence and prestige cast a long shadow, making most noble children wary of approaching Althea. The fear of offending or falling short of the family's high expectations kept potential friends at a distance, leaving Althea isolated despite her inherent qualities.
"Care to be my partner at Miss Annastasia Dunbrooke coming-of-age party tomorrow?"
Althea glanced up from her book to find Alastair standing in the doorway of the family library, still clad in his formal knight's uniform. His return was recent, given that he had been absent for the past week.
"How is Krell?" Althea responded with a question of her own, causing Alastair to chuckle from across the room.
The young Duke moved closer, approaching his sister who was still seated, absorbed in her reading. "Krell's not bad. It's not too hectic there, but the place is rather dull. Marquis Vanroise seems to thrive on the heat."
Understanding the sarcasm, Althea smiled. "You've worked hard, thank you."
"So, what's your answer?"
"What answer?"
Alastair rolled his eyes. "To my offer-will you be my partner?"
"Don't flatter yourself! I'm hardly going to conspire to keep you away from your own fiancée. Besides, Miss Ardenthelm is a wonderful woman. She's actually too good for you, so treat her well."
"Not good enough? Well, agreeing to the engagement was quite a feat in itself; she should be grateful."
"Oh, I see," Althea said, her tone carrying a trace of sadness that made Alastair suddenly uncomfortable.
"I've always said that no one can match my two sisters. I even mentioned I'd rather stay single, but Father insists. I struggle with Serene, she's too loud."
Althea offered a faint smile. "Still, don't anger Marquis Ardenthelm's family. Make sure you treat her well."
"And you?" Alastair asked.
"Me?" Althea inquired, raising an eyebrow and pointed herself with the book she held. Her laugh was light but tinged with melancholy. "I'm not sure."
"Doesn't Prince Aragis want to attend with you?"
"His Highness invited someone else first."
"Who?!-oh... Calestia?"
Althea nodded. "Yes, but she declined, and then His Highness decided he didn't want to go at all."
"I told you-"
"I know," Althea interrupted. "You think forcing Father to make me Prince Aragis's fiancée, taking the place of crown princess from Calestia, and then getting engaged to him was a mistake. But I really like him. I truly, truly do."
Here unfolds another chapter in the saga of why Althea finds herself so universally despised.
Four years ago, as Calestia and Alastair were heroically engaged in the heat of battle, Althea was waging her own struggle-with her ego. At that time, Duke Oswin, though a towering figure as Grand Marshal, had deemed the conflict too minor to warrant his direct intervention. Instead, he dispatched his elite troops, including his children, to lead the charge. And to add more, Prince Aragis, the crown prince of the Vermillion Empire, was conspicuously absent from the battlefield also. His presence was required elsewhere-his coming-of-age ceremony loomed large, a pivotal event that the empire insisted could not be delayed. Even as war raged, the empire's confidence in its control allowed the crown prince to fulfill his ceremonial duties.
With both of them off the battlefield, Althea saw a prime opportunity to put her plans into motion.
Just right after Calestia and Alastair away, Althea made a dramatic decision. For the first time in her life, she approached her father with a desperate plea. She demanded to be considered as Prince Aragis's future fiancée, insisting she deserved to take Calestia's place as his consort.
Duke Oswin initially balked at her request. Calestia had long been earmarked for the role of crown princess, a decision endorsed by the empire and, more importantly, by Prince Aragis himself, who was reportedly pleased with the arrangement. To overturn this plan now would not only raise eyebrows but could potentially destabilize the delicate political balance.
Yet Althea was relentless. Tearfully, she professed her love for Aragis and implored her father, claiming she could not bear to see him with anyone else. Typically mild and reserved, Althea's persistent and emotional appeal was hard to ignore. Recognizing her genuine affection and the rarity of her demands, Duke Oswin, influenced by a mix of paternal affection and political maneuvering, eventually acquiesced.
Thus, Aragis and Althea's coming-of-age ceremonies were held in tandem, marking their engagement with grandiosity that left the empire reeling. The announcement of Althea as the new crown princess shocked everyone, including the beleaguered Prince Aragis himself. The empire's decision was firm, even as Prince Aragis's displeasure simmered, revealing the deep rift this sudden engagement had caused.
Things got worse when Calestia returned from the war. Having dedicated her life to becoming a worthy counterpart to the crown prince, she was incensed by her father's unexpected decision. Her rage was not born of affection for Aragis, but from the profound betrayal of her lifelong aspirations. She had always seen herself as the rightful match for the prince, and Althea's intrusion felt like a personal affront.
Now, Althea stands at the center of a storm: despised by her own fiancé, shunned by her sister, judged harshly by everyone around her, and often blamed by her brother.
But what recourse does she have?
Her choice has been made, and she must navigate the turbulent waters of her new role as best she can.
----------o0o----------
Many people wondered,
"Why Althea?"
"Why wasn't Calestia made the crown princess?"
That very question, in fact, had been directly posed to Althea by Calestia herself. Althea's response that day only served to heighten Calestia's fury.
"Because I love Prince Aragis."
Calestia found this reasoning infuriatingly naive and selfish. In her view, Althea's actions were driven by personal desire rather than the needs of the empire. The empire required stability and a strong, cooperative leadership to wield its considerable power effectively.
Aragis was undeniably capable of shouldering this immense responsibility. From a young age, he had been groomed, tested, and proven in various domains-intellectually, militarily, and politically. He even possessed a foundational understanding of magic, mastering several techniques that enhanced his physical prowess. The Magia Tower, a revered institution for magical users and saints, had recognized Aragis's potential to become a powerful emperor.
Calestia, too, had prepared herself rigorously for such a role. Since childhood, she strove to be the best, fully aware that her family's influence positioned her for ascension to the throne as future empress. Initially, her ambitions had centered around Alphonso, Aragis's late older brother, who had succumbed to illness ten years prior. However, Calestia's determination to become empress transcended individual personalities; she was resolute in her quest for power and leadership, irrespective of who stood beside her.
For Calestia, love was a non-factor. Her focus remained solely on power and duty. Thus, when Althea, the know-nothing, claimed that love was her sole motivation for usurping Calestia's path to the throne, Calestia's disdain turned to outright hatred.
Althea understood that her sister would not directly confront their father. Calestia, ever the dutiful daughter, respected their father's authority and the decisions he made. She knew that his word was final and unchallengeable. As such, Calestia, despite her fury, acquiesced to his decision.
So now, even if the entire world opposed it, Althea will become empress one day.
"It's a shame this lovely face will be mostly confined to the palace starting next month." Rannyra remarked, giving Althea's appearance one last appraising glance.
"No need to be sad," Althea replied with a reassuring smile. "You've agreed to be my lady-in-waiting, so you'll see me all the time."
Rannyra snorted. "That's not what I mean, My Lady! I'm talking about the rest of the world. They should have more time to realize that you're an angel incarnate."
Althea could only smile. Rannyra always managed to lift her spirits, even when she felt stifled by her own circumstances. Though some speculated that Rannyra's friendship stemmed from pity, Althea didn't let it bother her. What mattered was that Rannyra had stayed by her side all these years, never turning away or growing distant.
But dwelling on that was not what occupied her mind now. She needed to focus on preparing for the annual harvest ceremony, where she was expected to accompany Aragis, despite his clear disinterest. Althea busied herself with the preparations, determined to present herself well.
Despite her personal reservations, Althea was thankful for her family's enduring prestige, which ensured that every detail of her appearance was meticulously attended to. Tonight's dress, a creation by the renowned Madame Anneth, was particularly special. Althea had always admired Anneth's designs since childhood, even though the celebrated tailor favored Calestia's more commanding silhouette. Nevertheless, Madame Anneth had graciously agreed to craft Althea's gown, highlighting her commitment to the family's high standards.
The gown was an exquisite masterpiece, designed to captivate and enchant. Its soft blue fabric flowed like a serene river, cascading in gentle waves down to the floor. The bodice was delicately structured, fitting snugly and adorned with intricate embroidery that resembled twining vines and blossoming flowers, each stitch glinting subtly under the light.
Tiny crystals were meticulously sewn into the fabric, catching and reflecting light with every movement, creating a shimmering effect reminiscent of a clear, starry night. The gown featured an off-the-shoulder neckline, accentuating Althea's collarbones and lending an air of grace and elegance. Delicate lace trim bordered the neckline and sleeves, adding an extra touch of refinement.
The skirt billowed out from the waist in soft, voluminous layers of tulle and silk, giving the gown a fairy-tale quality. As Althea moved, the layers swirled and danced, creating an ethereal effect as if she were gliding on air. Subtle patterns of leaves and flowers were woven into the fabric, almost invisible until the light hit them just right, adding depth and intrigue to the gown's design.
A matching satin ribbon cinched the waist, tied into an elegant bow at the back, completing the look with a touch of whimsy. This ball gown was a harmonious blend of soft color and intricate patterns, designed only for Althea to wear.
Althea's hair is a cascade of silver silk, almost white, that flows like a moonlit waterfall down her back. Her hair is styled in an intricate yet effortlessly elegant braids that frames her face perfectly, enhancing her ethereal beauty. Soft, loose tendrils escape thebraids, gently curling around her face and neck, giving her an otherworldly, goddess-like appearance.
The hairstyle itself is a work of art, woven with delicate braids that intertwine and loop gracefully, creating a sense of movement and fluidity. The braids are adorned with tiny, shimmering crystals that catch the light, mimicking the twinkle of stars against the night sky. This touch of sparkle adds an extra layer of enchantment to her look.
Her yellowish-grey eyes, framed by the silvery strands, seem to glow with an inner light, adding to her breathtaking allure. The hairstyle accentuates the regal contours of her face, highlighting her high cheekbones, and drawing attention to her striking eyes. The overall effect is one of sublime beauty, making her look like a vision of a goddess descended from the heavens.
As Althea finished her preparations, a herald outside her room announced the arrival of Prince Aragis.
This was the moment Althea donned her mask. As always.
"Don't make me wait any longer! Didn't your attendants announce my arrival fifteen minutes ago?" Prince Aragis said curtly, standing just inside the doorway.
Althea and Rannyra bowed deeply. "Your Royal Highness, please forgive my impudence in making you wait. I thought you would meet with Father or Dame Calestia first, as usual."
"I don't have time for that!" he snapped.
Althea was about to respond when Rannyra gently nudged her arm and whispered, "Dame Calestia has been on duty at Liora since last night. It was quite sudden."
This was news to Althea.
"Make haste!" Aragis ordered, turning sharply on his heel. Althea quickly followed.
It had been more than three years since their engagement was announced, and their wedding was being planned with great splendor by the palace. Yet, Althea had never had a pleasant conversation with Aragis. He always made an effort to keep their interactions brief. Althea felt powerless to change his constant rejection of her.
Still, she held onto a faint hope. She believed that the man who always chose to walk briskly ahead of her would one day slow his pace to match hers.
From behind, Althea watched Aragis. This was the view she had become most familiar with. She didn't particularly like looking directly into her fiancé's eyes, for there was never any warmth or friendliness there-only a cold, unyielding hatred.
Althea watched Prince Aragis as he walked fast to the carriage, her eyes tracing the commanding figure before her. From behind, he seemed even more formidable, his tall frame cloaked in the rich, dark blue of his formal royal suit. The suit, adorned with subtle touches of gold and white, hugged his broad shoulders and tapered down his strong back, accentuating his fit physique.
His black hair, perfectly styled, added to the sense of order and precision that surrounded him. The sharp contrast between his dark hair and the deep blue of his suit drew her gaze, highlighting the regal air he exuded. The gold embroidery glinted softly in the light, a reminder of his royal lineage.
His stance was unwavering, every inch of him radiating a quiet strength that Althea found both awe-inspiring and slightly intimidating. The black high-ankle boots he wore completed the picture of elegance and authority, their polished surface reflecting the light with each purposeful step he took. She couldn't help but admire the seamless blend of power and grace that defined Prince Aragis, making him a figure that commanded attention and respect, even from behind.
"We're nearly late, Your Highness," said Ethan, one of the guards, as Aragis approached the carriage.
Prince Aragis shot a glance at Althea before grumbling, "You know who to blame for that!"
Althea sighed, not wanting to argue. Prince Aragis climbed into the carriage first, showing no courtesy of letting her go ahead. He didn't even glance back as Ethan helped her in. Aragis was already absorbed in staring out the window.
They sat across from each other Althea watched him, noting the distance between them despite their proximity.
"Our wedding is but a month away," Althea ventured, breaking the silence. "Is there aught you wish to discuss?"
Prince Aragis remained silent.
"My apologies if I have been a burden to you."
"Even now, I hope you will once again seek refuge in Duke Oswin's counsel, as you did in times past, and implore him to put an end to this. I demand that you restore Calestia's rightful chance to me." Prince Aragis finally replied.
His cold words made Althea nervously clasp her hands together. "I am truly sorry, your highness. I promise I will do my best, I will-"
"I shall have your pavilion moved to the Sapphire Palace!" he cut her off sharply. "If you truly wish to do your best for me, then do not trouble me further. Stay as far away from me as possible."
The Sapphire Palace, which Prince Aragis mentioned, was an isolated area at the very back of the Vermillion Empire Palace. Within the palace complex, there were various distinct sections. The Emperor's private quarters were known as the Azure Palace, where he rested and conducted personal matters. Similarly, the Empress had her own pavilion called Scarlett Palace, while Prince Aragis resided in the Crimson Palace. The Emperor's concubine and the second prince lived in the Jade Palace.
Althea's eyes widened with horror when Aragis mentioned the Sapphire Palace. It wasn't just its remote location; to reach it from the main pavilion required a considerable walk through a small artificial forest created within the palace grounds. The Sapphire Palace had long been infamous as a place of exile for unwanted members of the empire and was currently almost uninhabited.
Aragis wanting Althea to move there after their marriage was tantamount to exiling her from the heart of the palace.
"Isn't that a bit extreme, Your Highness?" Althea questioned, her voice steady despite the tension. "I may be a nuisance to you, but I must remind you, I am of the Brightlance family. Such actions could be perceived as a slight against our name."
Though Althea could endure Prince Aragis' scorn and harsh words, any affront to her family was intolerable.
"I accepted the terms when I agreed to take you as my future partner," Prince Aragis snapped back, his anger evident. "Your presence robbed me of Lady Calestia. To make her my concubine would only bring further dishonor upon your family. Is this not a fairer arrangement? All I ask is that you keep your distance and stay as far away from me as possible!"
Althea wanted to argue, but provoking Aragis further was not a wise choice. They still had to participate in several activities together today.
With a calm demeanor, Althea settled back into her seat. "Please discuss this with my family's representatives. If they agree, I will comply."
After that, silence filled the carriage. Althea could only hear their breathing until they finally arrived at the palace.
----------o0o----------
The Vermillion Empire, revered across the lands, stood as a symbol of power and prosperity among the five great regions. Its renown was not only due to its vast and fertile lands or the peace that reigned within its borders, but also because of the formidable military might that protected its sovereignty. The roots of this empire, however, were steeped in tales of revolution, betrayal, and redemption-stories that had shaped it into the awe-inspiring realm it was today.
A century ago, the Vermillion Empire was not the grand dominion it is today but rather a small, struggling kingdom known as the Trinity Kingdom. It was a land shrouded in despair, ruled by a tyrant whose cruelty knew no bounds. This king, consumed by his lust for power, had bled the kingdom dry. The people suffered under crushing taxes, and any whisper of rebellion was swiftly and brutally silenced. The land, once fertile and full of life, withered under the weight of his greed.
Amidst this darkness, hope was born in the form of Vermilion the First, a man of unmatched valor and vision. He was not just a member of the royal family but a high-ranking general in the king's army. From his position, Vermilion witnessed the suffering of the people firsthand, and with each passing day, his hatred for the tyrant king grew. The king reveled in his subjects' despair, living in opulence while his kingdom crumbled around him. Vermilion could not stand idly by.
He began to quietly gather allies, knowing that a mere rebellion would not suffice to topple such a deeply entrenched evil. Among his most trusted confidants was the Brightlance family. Together, they laid the groundwork for what would become one of the most daring coups in history.
Vermilion's plan was audacious: he would not only overthrow the tyrant but also transform the kingdom into a place where even the most unfortunate could find safety and hope. His vision was to create a land where justice reigned, where the people were not just subjects but citizens whose well-being was the ruler's foremost concern.
The people of the Trinity Kingdom, wearied by years of oppression, rallied behind Vermilion. Even some members of the royal family, disgusted by the king's actions, secretly lent their support. The coup was meticulously planned, every detail accounted for. When the moment came, Vermilion struck with the precision of a seasoned general. The tyrant king was deposed in a swift and decisive battle, and Vermilion claimed the throne not as a conqueror but as a liberator.
Once in power, Vermilion proved true to his word. He expanded the kingdom's borders, uniting neighboring lands under one banner through a mix of diplomacy and strategic conquest. With each victory, his power grew, and so did the respect and love of the people. It was Vermillion the First who declared the formation of the Vermillion Empire, a testament to the transformation he had brought about. The empire became a beacon of hope, a place where even the unluckiest could find safety and a better life.
A hundred years have passed since that revolution, and the empire's legacy endures under the rule of Emperor Vermilion the Fourth. He is a monarch who, like his great ancestor, is celebrated for his wisdom, strength, and compassion. The people adore him, not out of fear or obligation, but out of genuine love and respect. His reign is marked by peace and prosperity, the empire thriving under his careful stewardship, a testament to the vision Vermilion the First had when he dared to dream of a better world.
To honor the gods and to celebrate the blessings that the land provided, Emperor Vermilion the Fourth held an annual Harvest Ceremony. This event was more than a simple celebration; it was a grand offering to the gods, a plea for continued favor and a reflection of the emperor's devotion to his people. The ceremony marked the beginning of a three-day festival where the boundaries of class and rank faded away. Nobles and commoners alike gathered in the capital, sharing in the bounty of the harvest, dancing, feasting, and giving thanks for the year's blessings.
The festival began with a grand gathering at the imperial palace, a tradition that Emperor Vermilion cherished. This event, however, was more than just a display of wealth and power; it was a testament to the unity of the empire. Most people call it a Party, but The emperor despised that term when it came to this event. To him, it was a gathering of nobles, a council of the empire's finest minds and bravest hearts, coming together not just to revel but to reaffirm their commitment to the empire and its people.
As the sun set on the eve of the festival, the palace was alive with activity. The grand hall was adorned with banners of deep crimson and gold, the colors of the empire, and the air was thick with the scent of flowers and spices. The nobles arrived in their finest attire, each garment a work of art, reflecting the wealth and status of its wearer. The emperor, dressed in his regal robes, took his place on the golden throne, his presence commanding the respect and admiration of all who entered the hall.
But beyond the walls of the palace, the true heart of the festival could be found. The streets of the capital were filled with laughter and music as the people celebrated. Stalls lined the roads, offering food, drink, and wares from all corners of the empire. Children ran through the crowds, their faces alight with joy, while elders sat together, sharing stories of the past. For three days, the capital became a place where the burdens of the year were set aside, and the people could come together in happiness and harmony.
The Harvest Ceremony was not just a tradition but a symbol of the empire's enduring strength. It was a reminder that no matter how powerful the empire became, its foundation lay in the hearts of its people. Emperor Vermilion the Fourth, like his ancestors before him, understood this well. His rule was not one of fear but of love, and it was this love that had made the Vermillion Empire the greatest region of all.
As Althea stepped out of the carriage, the grandeur of the castle greeted her. Prince Aragis had already moved ahead without a second glance, leaving her to disembark on her own. She had hoped, foolishly perhaps, that he might wait, might offer a hand as a gesture of courtesy, if not affection. But, as always, he walked on, the bitterness between them as palpable as ever since she had ruined his plans to marry Calestia.
The murmurs began as soon as her feet touched the ground. She could hear the whispers, the barely concealed snickers of the nobles gathered around. Some didn't even bother to hide their laughter, their mockery of the woman who was now a crown princess in name only. The entire empire knew of Aragis' disdain for her, and the court was not shy about their opinions on the matter. Althea, with her head held high, tried to ignore the humiliation, though it stung all the same. She quickened her pace, trying to stay close to Aragis, as if proximity might shield her from the ridicule.
The castle's interior was a marvel, a true testament to the empire's wealth and power. The ceilings soared high, adorned with intricate frescoes that told the history of the Vermillion Empire, from its humble beginnings as a kingdom to its current grandeur. Golden chandeliers hung like sparkling crowns, casting a warm glow over the assembly of nobles. The floor beneath was polished marble, reflecting the opulence of the gathering.
Noblewomen filled the grand hall, each more radiant than the last, draped in gowns of every hue and texture. Their dresses were masterpieces-silks and velvets in rich jewel tones, embroidered with gold and silver thread, adorned with pearls and gems that caught the light with every movement. Yet, despite their collective beauty, no one could deny that Althea stood out among them. Her light blue dress was a vision of delicate elegance, its soft color contrasting perfectly with her iconic silver hair, which cascaded down her back like liquid moonlight. It was a sight that made even her detractors pause, unable to look away from the ethereal beauty she presented.
But her steps faltered when she noticed that Aragis had come to a stop as well. Confusion clouded her thoughts as they were still far from the center of the castle where the Emperor and Empress resided. Then she saw the reason: Prince Alphonso, Aragis' younger brother, stood a short distance ahead, his presence commanding attention.
The tension was immediate and thick in the air. Alphonso, with his calm demeanor, was a stark contrast to Aragis' barely concealed hostility. It was well known that Aragis harbored a deep resentment toward his brother, seeing him not only as a rival for the throne but also as a symbol of the Emperor's favoritism. Their father's open affection for Alphonso's mother, a beloved concubine, had always been a source of pain for Aragis, whose relationship with the Empress was cold and distant.
Alphonso inclined his head slightly in greeting, a faint smile on his lips. "Brother," he said, his voice smooth and untroubled, "I was just on my way to pay my respects to Father."
Aragis stiffened, his hands curling into fists at his sides. "Of course you were," he replied, his voice low and sharp. "Always eager to prove your worth, aren't you?"
"Is that so wrong?" Alphonso's smile didn't waver. "We all serve the empire, do we not?"
Aragis took a step forward, his gaze darkening with a challenge. "Your service is nothing but ambition masked as duty."
The atmosphere was charged, the gathered nobles watching with bated breath, expecting an escalation. Aragis' temper was notorious, and it seemed a duel was on the verge of breaking out.
Althea, sensing the imminent danger, moved quickly between them, her heart pounding. "Your Highnesses, please," she said softly but firmly, her voice cutting through the tension. "This is neither the time nor place for such disagreements."
Both princes turned their attention to her, and for a moment, the room was silent. Althea could feel the weight of their gazes, the entire assembly waiting to see how this would unfold. Summoning all the courage she had, she continued, "We are here to honor the Emperor and celebrate the prosperity of our empire. Any discord between you would only serve to undermine that."
Aragis glared at her, his eyes narrowing, but Althea held his gaze, refusing to back down. After what felt like an eternity, he finally exhaled, the tension in his body easing slightly. "Very well," he said, his tone still cold but less aggressive. "But this is not over."
With that, Aragis turned on his heel and continued toward the throne room, leaving Alphonso and Althea behind. Alphonso nodded to Althea, a hint of respect in his eyes. "Well done, Lady Althea. It seems you have a talent for diffusing difficult situations."
Althea only bowed her head in acknowledgment, her heart still racing. "I only did what was necessary, Your Highness."
As they made their way into the grand hall, Althea couldn't help but feel a small sense of accomplishment. She had managed to prevent a public spectacle, and in doing so, had shown a glimpse of the strength that lay beneath her quiet exterior. It was a small victory, but in the world of court politics, even the smallest victories could be significant.
The gathering had reached its peak, and the air buzzed with anticipation as the grand waltz began. Noble couples filled the dance floor, their elegant forms swirling in perfect harmony to the music. Laughter and chatter rose from the onlookers, while others indulged in the lavish buffet. It was a scene of splendor, a celebration of the Vermillion Empire's prosperity, yet amidst all the joy, Althea stood still, her eyes fixed on Prince Aragis.
She could feel her palms dampen beneath the delicate silk of her gloves. Nervousness gnawed at her as she considered the necessary next step. It was expected that the crown prince and princess would open the dance, a symbol of unity and the empire's future. Gathering her courage, she approached Aragis, her voice soft but steady.
"Your Highness," she began, trying to keep her tone even, "may I have the honor of this dance?"
Aragis didn't immediately respond. Instead, he glanced down at her with an expression that chilled her to the bone. "You must be joking," he said, his voice dripping with disdain. "Do you truly believe that anyone here wishes to see us together on that floor? You would only embarrass yourself further."
Althea's heart tightened at his words, but she refused to let her composure slip. She had grown accustomed to his cruelty, but that didn't make it any easier to bear. Still, there was something more important at stake tonight than her own feelings. Taking a deep breath, she pressed on.
"You may mock me, Your Highness, and you may despise me as much as you wish," she replied, her voice gaining a firmness that surprised even her. "But this is about more than just us. It is about the traditions of the empire. As the crown prince and princess, we have a duty to uphold those traditions, to set an example. If we do not, we undermine the very foundation of what this gathering represents."
Aragis narrowed his eyes at her, clearly irritated by her persistence. A tense silence fell between them as he considered her words. Althea could see the conflict in his gaze-part of him was eager to refuse her outright, to make a scene, yet another part, the part that bore the weight of his position, knew she was right. Finally, with a reluctant sigh, he conceded.
"Very well," he muttered, offering his hand with evident reluctance. "Let us get this over with."
Althea placed her hand in his, her heart pounding in her chest. Together, they stepped onto the dance floor, and immediately, all eyes turned toward them. The whispers that followed were unavoidable. Some sneered, finding amusement in the spectacle of the mismatched pair, the crown prince and his unwanted fiancée. Others, however, could not deny the striking contrast they presented-Aragis, the epitome of regal handsomeness, and Althea, radiant in her light blue gown, her silver hair shimmering under the chandeliers. For all the scandal and bitterness surrounding their engagement, they looked every bit the royal couple.
The music began, and they moved together, their steps perfectly in time. Aragis, despite his initial reluctance, was an accomplished dancer, his movements smooth and precise. Althea, for her part, held her head high, refusing to let her nerves show. Though his earlier words had stung, she was determined to fulfill her role with grace.
For a fleeting moment, it almost seemed as though things were going well. Althea felt a small spark of hope-perhaps they could at least find a way to coexist in this arrangement. Aragis, though cold, had not made any further attempts to belittle her, and she found herself nearly enjoying the dance. But then, the fragile peace was shattered.
"Dame Calestia Isabelle Brightlance, entering the room!" The announcer's voice rang out, cutting through the music like a knife.
Althea had convinced herself that her sister wouldn't attend, preoccupied as she was with the urgent affairs in Liora. But in that fleeting moment, she remembered just how well she knew Calestia. Her sister, unwavering in her loyalty, would sacrifice anything, abandon even the most pressing duties, if it meant serving the Empire. Of course, attending such an important imperial event was one of them.
Aragis froze, his entire demeanor shifting in an instant. Without a second thought, he released Althea's hand, pushing her aside with such force that she stumbled backward. The crowd gasped as Althea fell to the floor, her knees hitting the marble with a painful thud. She barely managed to catch herself before her head could strike the ground, but the shock and humiliation were overwhelming.
Aragis didn't look back. He was already moving toward Calestia, his expression softening in a way it never did with Althea. The room was silent as everyone turned to watch the scene unfold. Althea remained on the floor, her vision blurring with unshed tears as the reality of her situation settled over her like a heavy cloak.
All around her, the nobles murmured, their eyes filled with pity and scorn. Althea could feel their judgment, their satisfaction at seeing the crown princess reduced to such a state. Yet, amidst the swirling emotions, one thought burned brighter than the rest-no matter what, she would not cry in front of them. She would not give them the satisfaction of seeing her break.
With as much dignity as she could summon, Althea pushed herself up from the floor, disregarding the sharp pain in her knees. She carefully smoothed her dress, holding her head high even as tears threatened to escape. Yet, beneath her composed exterior, her heart was breaking, the harsh truth of her engagement and her fragile standing in the empire weighing on her more than ever before.
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To be continued
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