1712, Aethiel Palace, Kestramore City

    "Do you think that she will accept me?" Catarina whispered to Julian as they walked down the hallway that led to the Queen's sitting room. "I recall that she once called me as well behaved as a scullery maid."

Julian tightened his grip on Catarina's hand. "Trust me, Nina. She already did." If the Queen had not approved of her, then Julian never would have been able to harvest the Flower of Anaise that ultimately saved her life, but Catarina did not know that.

Catarina lowered her head as she silently trudged along, her heart beating erratically in her chest. She was not one to be easily intimidated, but she had witnessed how insufferable the Queen could be firsthand, and she doubted that such a person could change that easily.

It did not take long for them to reach the Queen's sitting room, and upon noticing the two, the head steward quickly exclaimed, "Announcing the arrival of His Royal Highness, The Crown Prince and Lady Catarina of House de Fontaine!"

The doors swung open, and there, in the centre of the room, perched on the chaise while stroking a Pomeranian puppy was the Queen. The Queen's features were stern and uninterested, and for a brief moment, Catarina thought that she would huff in disgust. However, it never came, and when the Queen noticed Catarina's presence in the room, her expression softened. She bent down and set the puppy down on the marble floor, and wordlessly, she began to make her way towards Julian and Catarina.

The first words that she uttered to Catarina were, "Have you been well, child?"

Catarina stiffened, and quietly she nodded. "I have been well, Your Majesty. I thank you for your concern."

The Queen then smiled, the first genuine smile that Catarina had ever seen coming from her. "You mustn't call me that, child. From today onwards, call me Mother."

    "M-Mother?"

Catarina could not believe her ears. How could the Queen, who viewed her with such disdain, suddenly treat her so tenderly?

    "I have wronged you, Catarina. I've insulted you, humiliated you, wounded you. I shouldn't have treated you that way-"

    "No, you shouldn't have," Catarina interjected coolly, still wary of the Queen's sudden benevolence.

    "If you could find it in your heart to forgive me, then it would make me the happiest person in this world. Those cruel words that I have said to you, I wish that I could take them back."

Catarina quietly listened, yet she remained wordless. Her eyes were cold, and her lips were dry. Eventually, she let out a sigh.

    "I may be able to forgive your actions, but I shall never forget them. However, I am willing to start a new beginning, a new future. And I want you to become a part of it."

A single tear trickled down the Queen's cheek, leaving a clear mark on her carefully powdered face. "Thank you, child," she whispered as she pulled Catarina into an embrace and kissed her cheeks. And for once, Catarina felt that all was well in the world.

    "It feels good to have something to work on," Demitria said to her brother as she skimmed through the list of people who were to be invited to the upcoming wedding ceremony. "I must thank you for the opportunity."

    "Don't," Julian sighed fretfully. "During the wedding, there will be hundreds of foreign dukes and officials. You should get to know them, Demi. You cannot remain this way forever."

    "Remain as what? A spinster?" she chuckled. In the past, she had been quite worried about being called one, but now, she realized that spinsterhood was not all that bad.

    "The newly crowned king of Amaris will be there. I hear he is quite the looker," Julian interjected.

Demitria fetched the list of names, and there, at the very top was 'Maximilian IV of Amaris'. "I do find him intriguing," she confessed. "People say that he allegedly is the son of the previous crown prince, and that he narrowly managed to escape his uncle's tyranny. Yet, nobody knows where he lived for the past twenty years, nor how he managed to amass such a large army. It is like he appeared out of midair and immediately got to work."

Julian grinned. "I must add that he is unmarried. As a newly crowned king, he must be in want of a bride."

    "I am certain that there are plenty of Amarisian women who are dying to get in his bed," Demitria retorted. "Besides, I am not looking to get married."

    "Write to him, at the very least. It would not hurt to ally yourself with the most powerful man in Amaris," Julian insisted. As he left for the third fitting of the day, Demitria was left alone in her study with the list of names in front of her.

    "Maximilian IV of Amaris," she murmured. "Indeed, it would not hurt."

Instead of sending a formal invitation like she originally intended, she decided that she would personally write a letter.

To his most royal majesty, Maximilian IV of Amaris,

    With great joy and splendour, I inform you of the upcoming union between my brother, the Crown Prince of Ravaeryn and Lady Catarina of House de Fontaine in two months. On behalf of the kingdom of Ravaeryn, we humbly invite you to attend, and we shall receive your entourage with open hearts.

    On a personal note, I wish to congratulate you on your recent successes, and I hope that our kingdoms will be able to form an alliance in the near future, so that we may prevent the past from repeating.

Lastly, do you like the colour blue, Your Majesty?

Demitria de Lavilliers

Princess Royale

When she first sent out the letter, she did not know what to expect. Demitria had no idea what type of man Maximilian IV of Amaris was. He could be a sweet-talking womanizer, or even a rough military man who had no time for pleasantries. To be frank, she felt a bit cheeky to end the letter with a question, which in a way, forced him to write back. Due to that, she did feel somewhat anxious when his reply finally came.

To Demitria, Princess Royale,

    Firstly, I thank you for extending an invitation to me, and gladly, I shall attend on the agreed date. Secondly, I am willing to align myself with Ravaeryn, but I must ask you, Princess. What is the nature of the alliance that you are referring to?

And lastly, yes, I do like the colour blue. Dark blue, to be exact. Do you?

With great regard,

Maximilian

Demitria felt her face heat up, and she immediately pulled out a copy of the letter that she had sent over to the king. There, in the second paragraph, she found the damning sentence. I hope that our kingdoms will be able to form an alliance in the near future.

      "Exactly what kind of alliance, Demitria?" she groaned. Now, the king of Amaris must be thinking that she was implying at a marriage alliance to solidify the ties between their kingdoms.

With trembling hands, she picked up a piece of paper and grabbed her feather quill. She must settle the misunderstanding, fast.

To his most royal majesty, Maximilian IV of Amaris,

       On behalf of my family, we are deeply honoured by your acceptance to attend the ceremony. Regarding your question, I had been meaning to say that a political or military alliance would be very helpful to both of our kingdoms, especially in these post-war times.

As for your other question, I also like the colour blue. But I must clarify that I prefer greenish blue as opposed to dark blue.

Demitria de Lavilliers

Princess Royale

She folded the piece of paper up neatly and slipped it into a white envelope. Then, Demitria opened up the drawer and retrieved a stick of red wax. Pushing her long black sleeve back to her elbow, she placed the stick of wax to the fire of the candlelight, allowing the wax to melt and trickle down.

Once the letter was signed, sealed, and well on its way to the kingdom of Amaris, Demitria could finally exhale a sigh of relief. Much to her horror, however, Julian the big mouth had told their parents about this correspondence, and for once, she saw their faces lighting up with joy.

    "I hear that you have been writing letters to the king of Amaris," her father said to her during dinner.

    "And actually received a reply," Julian butted in. Demitria glared at him as she ran a knife through the roast partridge on her plate.

    "The king rarely replies to anything that does not pertain to the prosperity of his new kingdom. Whatever you have written to him, he must hold it in high regard," Guillaume explained, then took a sip from his crystal goblet.

Demitria had to suppress the urge to giggle. High regard? Their correspondence revolved around a simple misunderstanding and a conversation regarding the colour blue. Furthermore, she brought up the topic of colours so that she could have the maids prepare the guest chambers according to the king's preference.                                                                                                    

    "I suppose he deems Ravaeryn a worthy ally. Otherwise, I do not see why he would even bother to respond," Demitria shrugged.

    "But he is unmarried, is he not?" the Queen interjected. Oh no, not this conversation again. "As are you, Demitria!"

    "Yes, I am quite aware of that, Mother-"

    "When he arrives here for the ceremony, you definitely must show him around. Get to know him well, and who knows, he might even propose!" Isabel beamed. "Oh, two weddings in a year! Isn't that such a joy, husband?"

That night, she sat at the edge of her bed, her face buried in her hands. Initially, Demitria thought that her mother had finally given up on marrying her off, but now that a new eligible bachelor had appeared, it seemed that the thought never really left the Queen's mind.

Demitria, always the most rational sibling, obviously knew of the advantages of marrying Maximilian IV of Amaris. She would become a queen, and as she had Ravaeryn's backing, the Amarisians could never mistreat her. Furthermore, her children would be the ones to succeed the throne after Maximilian's passing, and surely they would not wage war on their own cousins?

Her head told her that a marriage would be most beneficial, that it would unite the two kingdoms, but her heart told her that it was wrong. Her heart, after all this time, still yearned for Rafael Lombardi. A long dead man.

The king's reply arrived one week before the ceremony, and Demitria decided that whatever she had to say in reply, she would say it to his face. It would be too late to send a response anyways. Hoping that the misunderstanding was finally resolved, she picked up the envelope that had been resting on her study table for the past hour.

    That, was when she noticed the blue wax seal. Now, that was odd. It is customary to use red in formal correspondences, while blue is meant for correspondences of another nature. Love letters, to illustrate. Moreover, instead of the royal sigil, the king had sealed the envelope with a monogram of the letter R. Confused, she broke the wax seal and pulled out the letter nestled inside.

To Demitria, Princess Royale, he wrote

It seems that you and I have very differing opinions on forging successful alliances. A peace treaty might hold on for a few years, but decades? Princess, I believe that in order to secure our alliance, there is nothing more effective than marriage.

Maximilian R.