24一 of the calm before the storm

༻𖥸༺

You are a terribly real thing, living in a terribly false world. And that, I believe, is why you are in so much pain.

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THE CLICK-CLACKING OF HEELS ON marble floors echoed in the grandiosely decorated hall as a lavender haired woman oversaw the posture of a little girl. Made to walk with a slim book placed atop her head, the little girl rigidly stepped, her mind overly active with ensuring she would not trip and fall. A disappointed sigh echoed the moment the book slipped and hit the ground.

"Your Highness, why are you so afraid of this exercise?" The woman flipped her fan shut, walking forward to pick up the fallen book. "It cannot be due to your ladyship's current dress or shoes, as I've personally made sure they would be as comfortable and unobstructive as possible."

It was true. The young princess was dressed in a flowing skirt and loose blouse, as well as low-heeled shoes made of soft leather. Her hair was loose, as demanded by the current posture training, but it had been given a trim prior to the lesson so that no strands of hair would impede her.

"The book... It's an unfamiliar weight." The young princess defended herself, her hands fisting in front of her flowy black skirt.

The sunshine eyed woman paused, looking down at the book in her hands. "I suppose it is. This is, after all, the first time puting into practice our theoretical lessons." She hummed thoughtfully, her hands coming to rest at her waist, clasped over the book.

The princess didn't confess, however, that the location of their practical lesson was unnerving her. To have the gazes of past imperial family members look down upon her一 it mattered not that they were simple paintings, the weight of their perceived judgement remained. She felt inadequate, walking these marbeled paths as if she belonged. (She didn't. She was an outsider. Even in her own family.)

Sighing softly at her pupil, Every tucked the book under one arm and turned to leave. "Walk with me Your Highness."

Confused, the princess followed, eyebrows pinched in though as their destination soon revealed itself to be in front of a large portrait. Standing side by side in the painting, her father and brother gazed forward with unseeing eyes, their postures firm beneath seemingly priceless clothes. Her father, with his ice cold expression in plain view as his hair was pushed back, held an arm folded behind his back, hidden under a red cape trimmed with spotted-black white fur, the other placed upon her brother's shoulder. And there stood he, the older of the two siblings, with his shoulders pulled back and wavy blonde hair fanning jeweled eyes, his bearing a mirror of their father's as he crossed his arms at the small of his back, blue cape with golden thread hanging off his uniform.

Her teacher looked up, sunshine yellow eyes gleaming with an understanding that she could not comprehend. "This painting," She gestured forward, "was commissioned just days before His Highness' fourteenth birthday."

The little royal could not understand. For what purpose had her teacher lead her here?

"There is a story behind this painting." The older woman smiled down at her. "Mind you, I simply know it from third hand accounts and whispery gossip, but I was told of an argument between father and son."

Her father and brother? Arguing? Over a simple painting? It seemed redundant. She voiced her thoughts to the older woman, who huffed a breathy laugh upon hearing it. "Well yes. While I am lead to believe Your Highness thinks there is little to no discrepancy in the relationship between your sibling and father, allow me to rectifying that."

And so, Every began weaving a short tale of how both her brother and father, overworked from their duties and in dire need of rest, had been forcefully sat down by one Madam Iris and made to stand still as she applied make-up on them to conceal their haggard appearances. All the while the elderly madam scolded them both for forgetting the date on which the painter was supposed to arrive. Her teacher, a tad chagrined, confessed to have heard the story from the palace maids that were present that day.

"Why tell me such a story?" The princess wondered. Were her worries that apparent? Or was she simply being tortured by learning of how unwanted she might be in the little family that they've created?

Lady Fallis only smiled, her lavender hair swirling in dizzying patterns as they walked. "You were in need of a break and a distraction. I though it fitting, given where we are." It was an adequate explanation, but by the way her etiquette tutor was looking at her, she could tell there was more.

The princess was not used to the intricacies of court. She was not accustomed to how one went about veiling murderous threats in honeyed words and dulcet tones. She felt out of her depth when overhearing Lady Every speak with Madam Iris on the topic of politics and ambasadorial envoys.

Simply put, she was an inadequate princess. Because what use did she have, when her brother shined like no other?

He was blessed by the gods, as many citizens of the empire would state. Blessed with intelligence and cunning, with kindness and virtue and with the bearings of a true leader. Her brother was, undoubtedly, the perfect candidate for the throne. A boy who'd seen beyond the shine and glamour of the palace and branched out, seeking opportunities to better both himself and the empire.

At night, when tucked away in bed and staring at her ceiling, she fervently wished to possess even a fraction of his talent. Perhaps then, when having something of worth to show, would she be looked upon with loving favor.

But her desire to not be seen as a threat to her brother's ascent to the throne outweighed her desire for recognition. And so she kept those midnight wishes to herself, locking them away in a corner of her heart, out of sight of preying eyes.

"Lady Every." She called out, suddenly remembering a past worry. "I have a question regarding a person I observed from afar."

Tilting her head to the side, the baroness offered an encouraging smile. "I will try to answer to the best of my abilities."

Pursing her lips as a shiver wracked it's way down her spine from the memory of it all, the imperial princess voiced, "Who is the woman that Lord Atropos called 'Cassie'?"

It was as if all blood had drained from the lady's face as she brought a gloved hand to her mouth in shock. Her eyes were wild and fearful, gazing at their surroundings in terrified panic, searching for a threat that only she could feel.

A few moments passed, and the princess was left to her curiosity. For this woman to induce such a reaction from her poised tutor, she had to be someone of power.

"Your Highness." The seriousness in the voice of the lady was barely outstripping the tremors she could feel building up. "That woman's name is Cassiopeia Orthopta, a Daughter of Banafrit. It would be best for your Highness to never call her such endearment and to stay far away should you spot her."

It felt ominous, a warning if anything. A warning to stay away and not approach. As if that woman was a known threat. But that could not be? Surely, for as intimidating as that woman was, she couldn't be that bad?

"But Lady Every一"

"Your Highness." In one swift movement, her teacher was holding her shoulders as she crouched down to be on eye level with her. The baroness' face was set in stone as she spoke, "Please, whatever you are thinking, please stay away from that woman."

The desperation in her voice was deeply unsettling and it shifted something deep within her.

"Please stay as far away from that woman as you can. For your own sake, Princess Athanasia."

That something was her survival instinct.

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GLOVED FINGERS COMBED THROUGH thick red hair, gently pulling apart the stubborn tangles as their owner busied himself with a stack of paperwork. Green eyes skimmed the letters of the reports at hand, reading yet not registering their contents. A sigh of frustration escaped thin lips, a gloved hand reaching up to pinch the bridge of a straight nose.

"You can always go through them tomorrow, you know?"

Viridian eyes glanced up across the room at the teal haired figure sitting at a wooden desk in a state mirroring the one he sat at. "Easy for you to say." The older man taunted. "You don't have to read the meaningless prattling of nobles." Verdant eyes glared in exasperation from beyond a curtain of red. "What I'd give to have your job, dearest Gregory."

The younger man, not even looking up, scoffed at the dramatic whining of a lord almost twice his age. "Cease your incensing whining. You are not a child. Your are thirty nine years old, act like it." Having said his piece, the teal haired official resumed filtering through the reports upon his desk.

Blowing a raspberry at the non-reaction, Atropos pouted and turned his verdant gaze towards the much larger desk on the far left side of the office. This being a comunal working room, His Highness had assigned it as their place of work within the Sapphire Palace. It was well guarded and warded against influence of those not welcomed, as the information that passed through here was most sensitive and best not seen by stray eyes.

Green eyes gazed at the high back chair made of black leather, their owned sighing softly. He missed the brat and his hawk-like gaze that always dared them (read: him) to slack off in their theoretical work. Leaning his head on a propped up fist, Atropos narrowed his eyes in thought.

"Gregory."

"What?" Exasperated and annoyed. The red head smothered down a smirk before it could form. He was so easy to rile up.

"Given that our princeling is to arrive soon, I feel the need to inquire." Glancing at the younger from the corner of his eye, he could see that Gregory had actually placed down his papers and was paying him full attention. "Any news from our darling shadows?"

It was common knowledge that ever since Athanasius left behind the capital, many nobles have stepped out of the woodworks to impose their influence for greater standing in society. After the first few months it became increasingly clear that going against the powerhouses already present was a herculean feat. Small was the number of those that actually succeeded in getting a leg up in the social circles, those being greatly dominated by families of merchant backgrounds and those whose external connection helped forge new ones.

But, even so, they were far too feeble compared to the pressure the already existing influences were exuding. The Alpheus Duchy was a steady and constant pressure, as well as the Saint household having moved forward with their humanitarian projects. Those two behemoths were closely followed by the Aegena Marquisate whose mages were making steady progress in improving the already existing mana devices. And there was also Banafrit's darling daughter...

"Our darling shadows, as you so aptly call them, have yet to report any sparks of conflict arising between households." Gregory succinctly informed in that drawl tone of his that could make even the highest of praises become insults. An interesting skill for one to have, either way.

Atropos tilted his head at that and privately questioned himself. Were his instincts failing him? Now, of all times? It seemed to early for him to loose his touch. There was this gnawing sense in his gut, telling一 no, yelling at him that something was in the works. Besides Cassiopeia's obvious campaign for more influence, he knew, at the back of his head, that things were remiss.

"Though..."

Verdant eyes snapped up at that, zeroing in on the form of his colleague.

Amber eyes flitted up to meet his and something unspoken was passed between them. A silent worry, perhaps. Or, more accurately, a quiet promise. It was hard to tell sometimes, what with the intensity of their gazes.

Gregory pushed back his hair, consequently breaking eye contact. "There have been some... unusual movements around Alpheus's house."

"Unusual? In what way?"

A sigh and an shrug. Somehow, those actions did not bode well having come from the generally composed advisor. "There have been rumours, though our spies have been unable to source up anything concrete, that the Duke is planing something."

Pursing his lips, the older man ventured, "Should we ask the young lord for information?"

Gregory seemed to ponder that option, mentally weighting the pros and cons of doing so. After a few moments he appeared to reach a conclusion as he shook his head in negation. "We can't risk the possibility of outing him to the Duke as one of our prince's allies. Plus," The younger grimaced, wincing slightly at some thought or memory, "I don't believe His Highness will think favourably of us using one of his close friends for something like this."

A beat passed. Then two. And the silence was filled with a shared feeling of resignation.

"...Fair point." Atropos had to back down at that. His nephew the prince might be, but he was still but a servant to royalty. And annoying his relative and chosen liege would be counterproductive to his continued health.

If anything, this sparse information confirmed that there was something happening in secret and out of the reach of their sight.

It also meant imense headaches in the future and an increase in workload.

Why did he accept this position again?

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I am finally learning my lesson. Anyone can betray anyone.

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Hi guys. It's been... a while, huh.

The past few months haven't been kind with me. Stress had become an everyday companion and I guess things have been bottling up for too many years now that I just... broke down, I guess.

By this, I mean I had a mental breakdown, cried my heart out for like 3 hours and yelled out everything that had been bothering me for the better part of a decade.

I'm currently seeking professional help to deal with my issues.

I won't abandon my writing, as my psychologist told me this is an excellent way for me to vent my emotions, but I do apologize for my unannounced hiatus in the past few months and for worrying you guys with my silence.

That aside, we're finally getting back to the main story of the manhwa! Look forward to some drama in the future!