The marquis stood in the imposing audience hall, surrounded by rich velvet tapestries and symbols of power that adorned the walls, bearing witness to the grandeur of the Empire. The air was thick with an atmosphere of respect and authority. At the center of the room, the emperor sat on his throne, draped in a sumptuous robe embroidered with gold that shimmered under the light of the chandeliers. His black hair, carefully combed, and his gray eyes, characteristic of the imperial family, gave him an air of majesty and authority.
The emperor, with his benevolent yet attentive demeanor, listened to the marquis's report on the new equipment destined for the soldiers. The marquis's voice resonated in the air, full of conviction, as he outlined the details of his recent negotiations.
The emperor nodded, visibly satisfied. "Excellent work, dear marquis. The situation at the border requires all the support possible."
As the meeting drew to a close, the marquis hesitated for a moment, his heart quickening. "Your Majesty, I have one last request to make."
"I'm listening," replied the emperor, his gaze softening.
"My daughter, Helia, would like to participate in the research on the antidote."
The emperor raised an eyebrow, intrigued. "Ah, yes, your daughter... You told me she studied science, is that right?"
"Yes, she was even the top of her class," replied the marquis, a mix of pride and concern in his voice.
"Very well, she can participate," declared the emperor with a smile. "Why refuse such a valuable help?"
"I thank you, Your Majesty," replied the marquis, relieved but still worried.
"No need to thank me," continued the emperor. "Any help in managing the crisis is welcome. A supply convoy will depart in three days under my son's directive. Your daughter can join it."
At these words, the marquis turned pale, unable to hide his astonishment. "Excuse me, depart? Pa... depart to the borders?"
The emperor nodded, realizing the marquis's surprise. "Yes, it's a common practice. For scientists, it's essential to conduct research on site. Samples and observations taken elsewhere are often insufficient. It makes sense to send Helia there so she can perform her own analyses."
Seeing the concern spread across the marquis's face, the emperor continued reassuringly, "Don't worry, she will only go to the military camp and will be constantly surrounded by imperial knights. They will prioritize her protection in case of any issues."
Once the meeting was over, the marquis left the audience, regret weighing heavily on his heart. He had been carried away by Helia's enthusiasm without fully considering the consequences of his decision. Now, he realized the extent of the risk he had taken by allowing her to participate in the research. But he resigned himself to his fate: he had already communicated his approval to the emperor.
When he returned home, he found her in the garden. Helia was sitting at a small stone table, several books open before her, and a notebook filled with notes beside her. She was absentmindedly sipping tea, lost in thought, scribbling on a sheet of paper with fierce concentration. Her brown hair, slightly tousled by the breeze, caught the sunlight, forming a golden halo around her. Her amethyst eyes shone with an intense gleam, that of deep reflection, but above all, they were Cesya's eyes.
The marquis stopped for a moment, struck by this troubling resemblance. Every time he looked at his daughter, pain pierced him, for he saw his late wife in her. That same posture, that same bright, determined gaze. He closed his eyes, trying to push away the memories, but the pain remained, omnipresent.
Helia was the first to notice him. She looked up, her serious and focused features softening slightly at the sight of her father.
"Father, have you just returned from your meeting with the emperor?" she asked, her tone measured but betraying a hint of impatience. She clearly awaited an answer.
The marquis briefly averted his gaze before responding. He didn't like seeing that spark of hope in his daughter's eyes, for he knew that by allowing her to expose herself to this danger, he was betraying his role as her protector. Yet, he hated himself even more for not daring to act the authoritarian father, preferring to avoid any confrontation. It was easier to remain distant, to give in to her enthusiasm, than to risk hurting her by denying what she desperately wanted.
"Yes," he finally said, hesitating. "A convoy will leave in three days for the borders."
At his words, Helia's eyes lit up with pure joy. For a moment, she stood still, surprised by the intensity of her own happiness. Then, in a surge of excitement, she suddenly stood up, a wide smile spreading across her face. But almost immediately, she remembered she was standing before her father, and tried to contain herself, regaining a semblance of calm.
"I'm really going to participate in the research?" she exclaimed, her eyes sparkling with excitement she couldn't fully hide.
The marquis slowly nodded, a shadow crossing his gaze. He tried to regain his composure, attempting to keep his tone neutral, but the tension in his voice betrayed his true feelings. "Yes, but… is it really necessary to go?"
Helia frowned slightly, surprised by the question, then responded confidently, "Of course, it's necessary! It will allow me to start with a fresh perspective and bring a different viewpoint. I've looked into the progress of the research, and I'm convinced that if they haven't found the antidote yet, it's because they've missed something essential. There's a flaw, a missing piece, and I must..."
She abruptly stopped, interrupted by her father who raised a hand to silence her. He no longer had the strength to listen to her expound on her ambitions.
"Very well," he said in a tone colder than he would have wished. "Sir Aldric will accompany you."
He immediately turned on his heels, as though to hide the emotions threatening to spill over. Before leaving, he added in a softer, almost resigned voice, "Prepare well."
Helia, still euphoric, did not seem to notice the bitter tone of her father. Too focused on the prospect of her imminent departure, she hastily gathered her belongings and left the garden with a light step, her eyes sparkling with excitement. Her mind was already brimming with plans and preparation lists, momentarily forgetting the gravity of the journey she was about to undertake.
That evening, after the conversation in the garden, Helia found herself alone in her study, reading over and over her notes on the progress of the research and everything useful to know about wild boars. She tried to convince herself that her contribution to the expedition would be valuable, that her skills were all that mattered. But deep down, the idea of heading towards the borders terrified her. It was more than just a mission: it was the unknown. And most of all, it was a world where her scientific knowledge might not suffice.
After a restless night, Helia woke early the next morning. She had breakfast on the terrace, trying to calm her mind by enjoying the early morning chill. The sun's rays were starting to warm the stones of the garden when she suddenly heard raised voices coming from inside the house.
As she was about to take a sip of tea, a shrill voice rang out, cutting short her moment of tranquility.
"Helia!"
Helia looked up just in time to see Elysia walk through the glass doors of the terrace, closely followed by a group of clearly overwhelmed servants. They were still desperately trying to stop her.
"Miss, you cannot appear here without an invitation!" one of the servants attempted to say, his voice trembling.
"How bold!" exclaimed Elysia, without slowing down. "I've come here without an invitation since childhood. Who do you think you are?" She scanned the room with an irritated glance before fixing her piercing gaze on Helia. "Helia, your insolent servants prevented me from seeing you during my last two visits."
The servants, visibly uncomfortable, exchanged glances before preparing to respond, but Helia calmly raised her hand, silencing them. She gave them a soft and reassuring smile. "Leave them, you may go." Her voice was gentle but firm, putting them at ease.
Elysia squinted and shook her head, incredulous. "What? You let them leave without saying a word? This is absurd. You should really reprimand them for their insolence."
Helia remained still for a moment, observing Elysia with calculated neutrality. She knew this moment would come, but she had not prepared for it to arrive so soon. Elysia, for her part, had no idea what was brewing in her "old friend's" mind. To her, Helia was still the docile, easily influenced girl, always ready to submit to her manipulations.
Helia slowly crossed her arms, keeping her composure despite Elysia's accusatory tone. "They were only following my instructions," she said, her gaze locking with Elysia's. "I asked them to deny you access."
Elysia stopped dead in her tracks, clearly shocked. A bitter smile spread across her lips. "Pardon? So, you were intentionally avoiding me?" She took a step forward, her expression shifting between anger and disbelief. "Is that why you ignored all my letters too?"
The silence that followed seemed to hang heavily over the terrace, only interrupted by the soft sound of the breeze lifting the curtains. Elysia, arms crossed, scrutinized Helia with a new intensity, searching for an explanation that might restore the order to their relationship that she still thought she controlled.
Elysia, in a wounded tone, let out a dramatic sigh before taking on a plaintive, almost trembling voice: "But really, what's gotten into you, Helia? How can you treat me this way? Me, your best friend!" She seemed on the verge of tears, her gaze becoming pleading.
The phrase "best friend" struck like a slap to Helia's heart. She felt something break inside her, a crack widening as Elysia spoke. Her face hardened despite her misty eyes. She cut Elysia off without hesitation, her voice trembling but resolute: "Elysia, I think it's time to end this charade." She lowered her eyes, trying to hold back her tears. She had thought she could face this situation with strength, but sadness flooded her nonetheless. "I know everything."
The words hit Elysia like a storm. Her heart raced, but she tried to maintain her calm. "But what are you talking about?" she asked, her voice betraying a note of worry.
Helia slowly raised her head, her amethyst eyes shimmering with pain and restrained anger. "I know about all your manipulations, about the way you constantly slander me behind my back."
Elysia's face froze for a moment, her features crumbling under the shock. She quickly regained composure, donning an indignant smile. "Helia, who told you such nonsense?" She appeared outraged, playing the wronged victim with almost frightening ease.
Before Helia could respond, Elysia continued, intensifying her indignation. "I can't believe you'd trust the lies of some stranger over our friendship! Is this the trust you have in me?" Her voice broke, and she began to cry before abruptly turning away. "It's truly cruel of you to slander me like this!"
Without another word, she dashed toward the exit, tears rolling down her cheeks. For a brief moment, Helia felt a wave of guilt wash over her. What if she had misjudged Elysia? What if her accusations were unfounded? But memories flooded her mind—the dreams, the treacherous conversation she had overheard during the banquet, Lady Sera's testimony. No. This was exactly how Elysia had manipulated her all these years. After all, she was an excellent actress.
A few moments later, the servants returned, worried. At their head was Madame Horelia, the chief housekeeper, followed by the other servants. "Miss, is everything alright?" she asked with concern, noticing Helia's glossy eyes.
Helia discreetly wiped away her tears, shaking her head. "Yes, everything is fine." She gave them a tired smile. "Don't worry about it."
Madame Horelia bowed slightly. "Please forgive us, Miss. We couldn't stop her from entering. She pushed us all aside, and it would have been inappropriate to lay a hand on a noble."
Helia nodded. "It's not important, I understand. Thank you for your concern."
She then rose, determined to find refuge in her study, where she could think in peace. The servants watched her leave with expressions mixed with concern and compassion. Once Helia had disappeared from view, they exchanged hesitant murmurs.
"Poor Miss... she's been avoiding Lady Elysia for weeks and hasn't left the house. I wonder what happened," murmured one of the maids, looking worried.
"Well, as for me, I think it's for the best," replied another, shaking her head. "I've never been able to stand Lady Elysia. Our Lady will be much better off without her, I'm sure."
A third nodded, her expression serious. "That's true. Lady Elysia has always given her bad advice, especially when it comes to dresses. And Lady Helia hardly ever attended social events because of her."
"Enough," intervened Madame Horelia sharply, her tone authoritative. "Get back to your work instead of gossiping about matters that don't concern you."
The servants immediately fell silent, obeying their superior without another word, each returning to their tasks. The terrace was once again calm, but an invisible tension lingered in the air, signaling that things would never be the same again.