An hour earlier , during the court meeting .
Princess Lyric sat in the comfort of her private wing, surrounded by her personal attendants. The atmosphere was light as they discussed dresses, the latest fashions, and the many trivial matters that seemed to be her life's focus. Unbeknownst to her, the course of the day would soon shift dramatically, and the storm brewing outside would soon find its way to her doorstep.
Lyric sipped her tea delicately, her thoughts far removed from the harsh realities of the world she had once sought to control. She was caught up in her own world of beauty and grace, where nothing could touch her. But the sharp echo of high heels, each step more forceful than the last, brought her attention back to reality. Her sister had arrived.
Evelyn's entrance was nothing like it had ever been before. Lyric had never seen her sister so enraged, so filled with that bubbling, violent energy. She didn't even need to look to know who was approaching. The sound of Evelyn's heels—sharper than usual, almost a staccato of fury—echoed off the walls, reverberating with every step. Lyric felt a sense of foreboding as her sister neared, something in the air that made even the attendants uneasy.
As Evelyn came to stand beside the couch, Lyric placed her teacup down carefully, signaling to the handmaids to excuse themselves. There was something about her sister's presence that made the room feel smaller, suffocating.
"What bothers you, sister?" Lyric asked, her voice sweet . She knew something was wrong, but her sister's rage was so palpable it made her uneasy. "You seem -"
"Not 'seem,' I am." Evelyn interrupted, cutting through Lyric's words with sharpness that made the room feel even colder. It wasn't like Evelyn to be so openly rude, and Lyric couldn't help but feel the sting of it. One of the thousand things that irritated her about her sister, but never so clearly before.
"That is so not lady-like, sister," Lyric remarked, though her tone was more of a passing observation than a rebuke. She always prided herself on being a paragon of grace and refinement, but Evelyn's behavior was threatening to undo it all. "Who would marry you with such behavior?"
Evelyn scoffed, and Lyric caught a glimpse of something dark flicker in her sister's eyes. "Who would marry me? Forget about me. I don't plan to wed. I plan for more ambitious things, sister. Things that will leave a mark on this world long after I'm gone." She took a step forward, her gaze locking with Lyric's, her words dripping with venom. "But I should not worry about you, since you and Given seem pretty close. Is he?"
Lyric blinked, unsure of what Evelyn was insinuating. "What are you talking about?" she asked, her voice suddenly tight.
Evelyn's steps grew closer. "Is he the prince charming that you'll be marrying? The crown prince, next in line? The rich man who will shower you with jewels and take you on grand vacations? Is he the one who'll fulfill all your silly fantasies?"
Lyric felt a lump form in her throat, but she didn't let it show. Evelyn's words were cutting, like knives aimed at the very core of her desires. "Stay away from Given," Evelyn hissed, her tone turning low and dangerous.
The weight of those words hit Lyric harder than she cared to admit. "What is wrong with you, Evie?" she asked, her voice strained with disbelief. But before she could continue, Evelyn turned sharply, her back to Lyric, as if dismissing her entirely.
"Nothing," Evelyn said flatly. "What I'm trying to remind you is that Given will never give you the life you dream of. He's just the rebellious son of a high lord and the right-hand man to a Queen with fractured memories."
Lyric gasped, her shock evident. "Evie, you've turned vile."
Evelyn whirled around, her face cold and emotionless. "Vile? You've turned stupid. Stay as far away from Given as you can."
The words burned in Lyric's chest. "Oh, so that's what this is about. You're jealous."
Evelyn's eyes flashed with something dangerous. "Jealous?" she scoffed. "Never. Given needs me."
Lyric's breath hitched. "He said that? Given needs The Queen, and last I remembered, you're not the Queen. So get him out of your head."
Evelyn's lips curled into a sneer. "No, you get him out of your head. You two are not suited for one another. You don't deserve him. What do you two even talk about? He's out of your league. You're out—"
"No, you're wrong," Lyric interrupted, her voice sharp, even as a knot formed in her stomach. "He wouldn't have kissed me if I were out of his league, and neither would I." Her voice wavered slightly, but her eyes stayed hard. She wouldn't let Evelyn see her weakness.
Evelyn froze, her anger briefly replaced by something darker, more calculating. "If it meant everything, he wouldn't have come to explain himself to me," she said with finality.
"He did that so you wouldn't feel alone," Lyric snapped back, her voice filled with venom. "He knows you only have him as a friend in this kingdom, and if he starts being with me all the time, you might just kill yourself."
The words escaped before she could stop them, and the room fell deathly silent. Even the handmaids froze, their eyes wide. Lyric's breath caught in her throat, but she couldn't take them back.
"Evie, I'm sorry," she said quickly, but Evelyn's eyes were cold, unyielding.
"No," Evelyn said, her voice low and dangerous. "He's just coming to you to stop you from throwing yourself over the balcony. We all know you'll just trail behind him like a little dog, calling him 'Giveee, Giveee' ."
Lyric's heart dropped, and she fought the tears that threatened to fall. She couldn't let her sister see her weakness. "Stop it," Lyric said, her voice trembling but firm.
"No," Evelyn snapped, her hand sweeping the room as if dismissing her. "Stay away from him. You annoy him."
Lyric's voice was barely a whisper, but it was filled with truth. "How so?" she asked. And then, in a moment of defiance, she added, "When I'm carrying his child."
Evelyn froze, her face turning pale as the words hit her like a slap. She took a step back, her eyes widening with shock.
"What?" Evelyn's voice was a strangled whisper, disbelief coursing through her veins.
"Yes." Lyric's heart raced, but her gaze remained steady. "Now get out of my way."
Lyric pushed past her sister, her heart bleeding, her eyes fighting to hold back the tears that threatened to spill. The weight of her words settled over her like a suffocating blanket. As she rushed down the hall, her handmaids trailing behind her, the feeling of betrayal cut deep. Evelyn had always told her she was the black sheep, that she didn't belong. But maybe the truth was, Lyric was the one who didn't belong. She tried to fit in, tried to become the perfect princess, but she could never quite get the shape right. Only the color.