25一 you paint me in vibrant colors (of violet and blue)

༻𖥸༺

I am an accident. I am a lie, and my life depends on maintaining the illusion.

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SHE POKED AT HER DINNER WITH morose disinterest, jeweled eyes seeing yet unseeing, lost behind a fog of thought. Her appetite was forgotten and she brooded over that which she has recently learned.

Mere hours ago, her brother's uncle had spoken with the emperor, bringing news of his traveling son. And, as the public knew and knew well of her father's love for his heir, he'd stopped mid-sentence in his conversation with his aide and knight and gave the older man his unbroken attention. (She'd wondered, at that moment, how Lord Atropos could stand so un-bothered before Claude's icy focus.)

Then all hell broke loose among the nobles as the acting head of House Saint spoke those words一

"His Highness is currently on his way back to the Imperial Palace."

一with a face of complete superiority. She'd thought, at first, that that gaze was directed to her father. But no, she'd realized mere seconds later. Those eyes of smug contempt were casted upon the crowding bunch of house heads, now tittering and trembling in spooked anticipation.

(It was just her luck, for the first time to attend a hearing of the nobles to end so disastrously.)

She knew why the Saint Lord announced it in such a way, when he could have easily done so in private. It was to remind those who have prowled the high society with their noses held so high that the one holding its reigns was now returning. It was an open secret that Athanasius was the true beast lurking behind the most known socialites, guiding their moves when needed. Deep down, she was very much aware of the blood bath that was to commence once her brother returned.

But where did that leave her? She had no social standing besides the title of Imperial Princess. But it was a hollow one, in name only, placed upon her to slightly distinguish her from the masses. What connections she had would have been only through those introduced by her tutors, but not even those were neutral in the tides of politics. Madam Iris was firmly placed on the Crown Prince's side, as his childhood caregiver and head of staff. Lady Every held a much looser connection with him, the Fallis House holding ties with the Aegena Marquisate from previous marriages.

It was only Lily who could firmly support her, but even she had little to offer. As a noble from a countryside territory, her family had practically no standing in the Capital of Obelia. It was a moot point either way, seeing as Lilly was her nanny and maid. Maids weren't taken seriously by nobility, no matter their bloodline.

"Is dinner not to your liking Princess?" Said the subject of her thoughts, gentle eyes looking at her worriedly.

She shook her head to chase away her musings, or simply in denial to the question proposed. "Mm. Just not much of an appetite."

Lily glaces at her, eyes concerned, but held her tongue and did not press her for answers. She was like that, Athanasia vaguely though一 gentle and kind, the optimal caretaker for a young child, but she was not particularly confrontational about her charge's feelings. Athy knew that her maid would fight tooth and nail to support her, but she wouldn't challenge her, wouldn't pressure her to be better, to strive for greatness. Had she not been her personal maid, the princess would have easily forgotten about her. It ashamed her to think like that, to think so little about the woman who sacrificed so much for her. But she couldn't help the realistic side of her mind from pushing forth those things.

She held back a sigh, eyes forlorn and heart heavy. She didn't belong in the light of this society in which she'd found herself. It would seem, that unless she was to change her circumstances, she was forever doomed to walk her life's path in her brother's shadow.

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HE STANDS OUTSIDE OF THE MILLING crowd, leaned against the back wall, hidden behind tall vases of blooming flowers with his sunshine eyes searching among the mass of people. He is ignorant of the flute of champagne in his hand, mind more preoccupied with analysing the actions and expressions of others. They are like rats, he thinks as he listens in on one particular conversation.

"Did you hear?"

"Of course I heard! It was kind of hard not to!"

"What do we do?"

"We do nothing. He won't... He won't be able to deal with this extremely."

"Are you sure?"

"... No. But what else can I do but hope for leniency?"

"..."

"At least my actions were not as outrageous as some of the others..."

"I'm... scared."

"... I know. I am too."

'It's rather pathetic.' The thought surfaces as he takes a sip of the alcoholic drink in his hand. There was a saying he'd heard once, a long time ago一 when the cat is not at home, the mice dance on the table. It was his father who said it regarding the people he worked with. Gregory rather thinks that this also applies to the nobles of high society.

It's no secret that the currently absent Crown Prince was the one pushing the chess pieces that were the most prominent figures of influence. There was a definitive line that separated the Prince's faction from the rest. It was in the way they would stare, eyes burning with jealousy and greed when faced with those loyal to the heir. Though, that was precisely the reasoning behind why they were not allowed within that particular circle.

"You're brooding again."

Sunshine eyes fly to the left, where an infuriating man stands. This one, in particular, was more annoying than the Acting Lord of House Saint. (Somewhere in the same room, a red headed middle aged man stifled a sneeze.) Dressed to the nines and clearly uncomfortable in the foreign clothes of Obelia, the man was looking at him teasingly, sunset orange eyes playful. Dark maroon-red hair that ended in blood red tips was slicked back and pushed out of a tanned face with avian-like sharp features.

Holding in a sigh that held the tiredness of half a century一 nevermind that he was barely twenty-four winters old 一the teal haired man chose to move his sights back to the partying crowd. "I am, as you can clearly see, annoyed."

A tilt of the head (and damn that action was unnerving with those bird features) moved the feathers that were braided in those long strands of hair. Humming, his unwanted companion added his two coins, "I wouldn't know, given that they're avoiding me."

Gregory glanced at the man, a biting comment on his tongue, before he reminded himself that no, this man was not, for once, the source of his ire. Aaban Raed, their political representative from Xekch had a knack for getting on people's nerves, but, in spite of that, the man himself was quite competent, as it was required of his station. But the words the foreign dignitary spoke were quite true. Gregory would be the first to admit to the close-mindedness of the people of his nation. Advanced from a economical standpoint Obelia may be, but its acceptance of other nationalities was still on the fence.

They were making progress in that department, but it was a sisyphean task.

"Believe me," He stressed, eyes holding so much spite one could drown in, "I'd give everything for them to avoid me."

His companion just hummed, bringing the glass of wine to his lips and taking a sip, Aaban chimed, "Had it been my sister who came as a representative, I don't think these people would be alive to even comment."

Gregory dug through his memories of Xekch's important political ambassadors, trying to recall a woman who shared his conversation partner's features and had to hold back a flinch.

Aaban just laughed at him. "Yes," He agreed, smile just a tad too sharp to be remorseful, "many people have the same reaction to her. Rather rude, no?"

The teal haired man just shot a glare at the other. His reaction was completely justified. Aaban's sister, one Aaima Raed, had to be one of the fiercest women he had ever met. (And he had the displeasure of knowing Cassiopeia.) As one of Xekch's generals, she was much too unassuming looking for her to actually hold such an influenceable position. She appeared delicate and dainty, too short in her stature to pose a threat to another. That until she took up a spear and a shield to face you and it was like being in a stare down with Emperor Claude.

"'Rude'? You make such outlandish claims Lord Raed." He sniffed, knowing full well that his snark did nothing to deter the foreigner. The man himself was well aware 一more so than others might think一 of his sister's character.

Aaban barked a laugh and grinned, but his eyes were like a hawk's, surveying the reactions of those around them. They had been conversing for a while. It must appear as blasphemy to those who knew Gregory that this man was not yet chased away from his presence. The Prince's assistant might be an abrasive person, but he was far from stupid. He didn't like many of his colleagues' personalities, but that didn't mean he didn't appreciate their skills. Aaban, just like Atropos, was someone who had a job he was good at. He was someone who knew where he stood and how to act accordingly to his status. Exuberant personality aside, Gregory had no reason to avoid the ambassador. On the contrary, he had every reason to get close to him.

By getting Aaban to their side, his position and connections in Xekch were an immense external support to their prince. With how factional things were within Obelia's hierarchy, their ties to other major powers would only help smooth things over during the transition of power from the Emperor to His Highness. That some people were unable to see such a basic fact was not his problem.

"Always so calculating." The tanned man teased, burnt orange eyes slitted and he smiled slyly. "Sometimes I wonder what goes on in that head of yours."

Gregory gave a mocking of a grin with his response, "Nothing nefarious, I assure you."

Aaban looked unconvinced. It was perhaps his prolonged exposure to the assistant's machinations making him so doubtful. "If you say so. Though I must confess, you resemble him in this aspect."

There was no need to elaborate who "him" was. Gregory knew why he was brought over to the prince's side. He was more than aware of the part he played in this grand show that His Highness had begun.

Many heirs before Athanasius had chosen to intimidate their opposition with their magical and battle prowess. And while the prince had both in spades, he had chosen a different weapon. The public's opinion was, after all, the sharpest blade one could weird. And so the prince plotted, since young, to hold this empire's nobles in a chokehold. Spies were placed in the households of the nobility, dirty secrets and skeletons in the closets were brought to light, only known by His Highness himself. This too, was another type of terror. Different from the constant fear of losing your life, this placed everything one held on a scale. And the side to which the scale dipped? Well, that depended solely on how you acted in accordance to the prince's policies. Because, in the end, no noble wanted to be crucified by the masses and lose all of their life's work.

And if Gregory resembled his Highness in that aspect? Then, as his assistant, it was only a given that he would match his master in such ways.

Perhaps sensing his thoughts, Aaban gestured to the crowds around them. "Then," his eyes slitted maliciously, grin so sharp it could cut through bone, "I look forward to what you have planned."

Oh, it would be just so impolite to refuse such a direct invitation.

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I wasn't born to be shy and quiet. I was born to make the world shatter and shake at my fingertips.

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Hello! It's been a while.

A lot of things happened while I was gone and though I made a lot of progress on my mental health and emotional stability, I'd say that my mom's brain surgery had fully pushed me into a landslide.

It's been two months since my mom's brains surgery and she's stable. I couldn't bring myself to get back into writing while not knowing how things were going to progress. But she is going to start ray therapy soon, so I'd say things are looking up.

I'm finally 18 and in my last year of highschool. I'm hoping to maybe finish this story by the time I graduate, but only time will tell.

I'm beyond enthused to be writing again, therefore I'm resuming my monthly upload schedule.

See you next month!

Reference pictures for Aaban Raed and his sister Aaima (both mentioned vaguely in chapter 20):

Also, here's a meme I came up with during my hiatus: