LOGIN*Ana*
Maddie was right. I feel dismal as the temperature drops the closer the maid guides us outside.
She leads me down the patio steps toward the gardens. All the while, I try not to shiver obviously but it’s becoming more frequent. The Autumn chill is no joke. I have to pull the shawls closer.
But they are not effective and the cold stabs through. Worse, it’s just around my shoulder. My feet and legs are getting the worse end of the deal. The chilly air seems to lick at them.
I should have just put on that stupid dress. I am suffering silently.
Ahead of the maid, I can make out a stoned seating area. A table has been set with china and snacks on tiers. The table has two chairs. One is empty as Stepmother sits in the other.
Upon seeing her, I dart my eyes about. I’m hoping to find another smaller figure. Someone that should be either shorter or around my height. But, as we draw over, my expectations die. There is no one else around.
It is going to be just the two of us. Though I am disappointed, I try not to show it. I don’t want Stepmother to feel like I’m not happy to see her.
“Thank you, Julia.” Queen Belinda nods to the old maid.
Julia bows and moves to step aside. It only dawns on me that with just us three, there are no other servants around.
Odd. I’d expected there to be more. But I don’t dwell on it as I feel Stepmother looking at me.
“I am sorry to keep you waiting, Mother.” I curtsy respectfully to her.
As I stand back up, I swear there is a strange smirk on her face. But it’s gone in a flash. Or did I just see it?
Stepmother just smiles at me.
“Come, join me, EMPRESS Anastasia.” Stepmother puts a strong emphasis on my title again. Just as she did before. I wonder if it’s a habit of hers?
“Thank you for having me,” I take a seat. Sitting, I can now see her clothes.
Stepmother has dressed smartly for the outside. Her dress is a light blue velvet with sleeves lined in white rabbit fur. And a white stout fur shawl hangs loosely from her shoulders.
Stepmother has always been beautiful. But she has gone the extra mile by adorning herself in jewels befitting her status. Gold emerald earrings dangle from her ears that match the brooch on her neck. She doesn’t have the crown on but it doesn't change anything. Just the way she carries herself reeks of royal radiance.
This woman is indeed a queen. And she demands respect.
I really should have worn the dress. I am lamenting as I now find myself such a pale comparison to her. I am still in my travel clothes. Nothing extravagant on them save for the silver thread that embroiders the hems- which is covered up by the shawls.
Speaking of the shawls, I feel another gust of cold air climb up and have to pull them closer. But they can only cover so much. Goosebumps are forming on my neck and chest.
“You’ve matured since I’ve last seen you.” Queen Belinda motions for Julia. The maid comes to start serving tea. The maid strains the leaves and pours a steamy black liquid into the queen’s cup. She then does the same to mine.
Having the cup filled, I catch the pleasant earthy smell aerate from within.
So this is tea. I’ve never had any before. Dawny has a fascination with the drink. It’s a fascination that seems to be spreading amongst the other kingdoms. Except for Nochten and their coffee.
We refuse to give that up. It is our number one import from the colonies, after all. But as I am in Dawny, I wish to play by their customs. I will taste tea for the first time today.
Curious, I lift the cup to blow the steam before taking a sip. I’ve yet to add anything, not sure how it would taste black. If it were coffee, I would add copious amounts of cream and sugar as a habit.
I have quite a sweet tooth.
Queen Belinda smiles watching before she adjusts hers with a sugar cube and splash of cream. Her spoon clicks against the china as she mixes her additives before feeling her concoction ready. She takes the cup to sip silently as her eyes stay on me.
“Mentally, I mean.” Queen Belinda smiles strangely into her cup.
“Thank you for your kind words."
"I have been busy each day reading and studying.” I put the cup down. I find the drink bland and too soft. I doubt cream or sugar can help change it so I don’t try.
I don’t think I like tea. It’s decided. But just as I have the cup down, the maid is on the move again. The maid refills what I just tasted.
“Oh-” I dampened at the sight but stop myself. I wasn’t planning on tasting more but now it might appear rude.
At least it’s warm. I have to relent as more goosebumps travel up my legs.
“You mean as preparations for when you ascend to Empress?” Queen Belinda offers a cookie. This I am more eager to take and bite off the bunny's head.
“Yes, but I also find it fun,” I quickly finish the rabbit cookie.
“You do?” She seems amused. But her grey eyes seem to dull a little as if she has realized something.
“Be careful my dear,” Queen Belinda starts taking a cookie for herself.
“Men aren’t too keen on a woman who reads.” She dunks her cookie into the tea and gently nibbles on its ears.
“They find it...threatening.”
“Shouldn’t I be threatening? I am Empress.” I reply simply.
Why would I care how they felt about me? The advice seems silly to me.
Queen Belinda snorts while swallowing a bite. Her eyes lift to regard me. They linger on my silver hair. Her stare makes my back stiffen a little.
I’ve seen that stare before but I shake it away. It couldn’t be. Not with Stepmother.
We are family.
“It is proper for a ruler to be well-learned, yes.” Queen Belinda agrees politely.
“You are right, but be sure that it will be seen as coming off too strong. You are direct, I can tell. But this does not help a woman. Women need to be more subtle to get their way.”
“Subtle?” I repeat with a blink but she doesn't delve further into her meaning.
Instead, she catches me shivering. I pull up my shawls as if to play it off but Stepmother beams a new smile. She sits back and fluffs up her fur shawl. It looks so much warmer than my choices.
“So, are you involved in court proceedings yet? Or is that still too much for one your age?” Queen Belinda sips her tea.
“How are your regents? Your- hmm, Aunt and Uncle?” Queen Belinda asks and I move for another cookie.
“They are well, I suppose. And I am in court. I attend and listen to the issues and concerns.”
“That is wonderful to hear, Empress Anastasia. More experience will only help you.” Queen Belinda speaks genuinely.
“The Empire is going to be quite busy with you in power. They are blessed to have you.” Queen Belinda sounds sincere. I feel pink at the compliment.
Outside of Maddie, I don’t receive much praise. But this must be because we are family.
Speaking of which-
“Does Brother Nicoli attend court now?” I ask.
At the question, Stepmother stiffens and her eyes sharpened. She smiles tightly.
“No, Prince Nicoli is still young.” Queen Belinda is short. I can only open my mouth to form an ‘o’.
“He is four now, right?” I ask to see her verify with a nod.
“Then, how is he doing? Has the fever subsided?”
Stepmother’s smile tightens.
“Not presently.”
I can’t but frown a little. But I put on a more upbeat attitude.
“Perhaps tomorrow, then. He’ll be feeling better.”
“Perhaps,” Queen Belinda repeats. It is only here that I feel some kind of hesitation. It’s odd- like a wall is being put up in front of me. Stepmother isn’t acting differently. She still smiles and her voice is pleasant.
But maybe it’s the way she answers- short and with no elaboration. I don’t quite understand but I get the impression she’s holding back at something. What could that be?
It’s as if she is trying to push me away from speaking about my brother.
But that is silly. I have to dismiss it. That can’t be the case.
“I hope so.” I find my pocket in my skirt. My fingers feel for the box. It’s still there.
Perhaps now is the time to bring it out? I start to wiggle it from my skirt.
“I have a gift for “
“Fevers can take time to heal, Empress Anastasia.” Queen Belinda interrupts and I feel my hand freeze.
“I expect it will take up to the entire duration of your stay.”
The whole time? I hold the box in place.
“But, if so, how am I to meet my-“ I drop my words as she smiles widely at me. It’s not a warm smile-not like the one Maddie gives me. This is cold- colder than the autumn air. It feels like it has teeth that could bite.
The sight of it makes me stop in place. I am afraid to move less when it strikes.
“I thought our talk would take longer, nay, I would have preferred it to be since the air feels so crisp.” Queen Belinda moves to take up her spoon.
“But it seems the subject was bound to come up at some point.” The spoon goes into her cold tea. She stirs with a loud click of the china.
“And it’s better to handle things as they come naturally, don’t you agree?” Queen Belinda pulls the spoon away to motion for Julia. The maid takes her cup without a glance at mine.
I open my mouth to speak but find a delay. It takes an effort for any sound to come out. But when it does, it betrays my confusion.
“Mother?”
*Anastasia*For a heartbeat, I cannot feel. Anything. Not the cold.Not the numbness spreading from my fingertips, past my wrists, up into my forearms like water climbing cloth. Not the wind catching at the loose silver strands over my eye, lifting them, letting them fall, lifting them again. No, not even that. Because my mind refuses what my eyes are– What am I even seeing?My gaze catches on details instead. The scrape of his boots against stone. The flash of silver armor. The blood at the corner of his mouth. The way Fulcan's gauntleted hand is twisted into his sleeve.Each little piece. Separate yet…together they make no sense. None of it does.Because this is Admiral Nugen–A scar over one eyebrow.The steady voice that always seems to have an answer before I have finished asking the question. Always there. The only one now who is still left…And he doesn’t belong between guards. Does not belong hanging limp between Sir Philo and Sir Fulcan like a common vagabond hauled in f
*Anastasia* “Bruno?” His name comes out too sharp on a snagged breath. But I can’t stop myself. Because he was just here. I only looked away for a second but he already is– He's-He’s…gone?!Already, my eyes sweep over the garden, the barren hedges, the ribs of trellises, even the charcoal sky pressed low over the garden. As if for a heartbeat I can still find him. That he couldn’t possibly have moved that quickly.Please–Then I catch it.Almost missing it entirely if I was a second slower, I found that trace. A flicker of burgundy at the very edge of the path. Hair moving in step, the light bounces, just once—before it disappears behind stone. The sound of a neglected hinge creaking on rusted joints.The servant’s side door. It draws back and closes again with a low groan, wood meeting frame like a mouth shutting. Heavy and stubborn. The door gives out easily because it’s unlocked. Or simply forgotten by anyone who isn’t watching for exactly that kind of escape.And worse…not gua
*Anastasia*“Unforgive—” The word catches on my tongue, thin, startled, as if my mouth rejects it on instinct. Not because I don’t know the word—of course I do—but because why on earth would he say—He says unforgivable like it’s a verdict.The absurdity of it lands instantaneously. Not because it’s funny or anything, but because that is just impossible.The light shifts overhead.Clouds are churning, swallowing up the pockets of light before spitting them back out in flat, brittle flashes that don’t warm anything. Bruised slate stacked on slate, sagging lower by the minute, pressing the sky down until even the garden feels cramped beneath it. Already turning the pale day sour, both too bright in one moment, and then too dim at once, as if mocking the way the sun is still above, but smothered in wool.And all the while, the air keeps scratching the inside of my throat with that strange charge. As if it was protesting for rain. But it doesn't feel right.It just pricks at my skin. My
*Anastasia* “Why are you running from me?” My words hang over the air, too loud to be just a simple question, because it feels too alive, twisting with so much more felt than said in the plainness of it, before slowly fading into thin shapes back into the bare bushes and trellises. For a moment, neither of us speaks.Only our breathing fills the space between us.His comes fast but controlled, like he’s already actively forcing it down in preparation. Like he may have already decided where he’ll bolt if given another chance. Like his eyes are already seeking new routes of escapes. Cracks to fall through. Stay out of reach like a whisper of smoke. Bruno feels like a spring, coiled tight and ready to vault once again, while I…I don’t think I can. Because I’m still breathing ragged, uneven like little torn sounds drag out of a body that was not made for sprinting. My lungs burn right now as if I’ve swallowed the torches from inside the corridors. Decorating the air with hot puffs o
*Anastasia*“Papa…” I breathe, the word so soft it barely disturbs the fog on the glass. “Is this you?”It feels too long since I saw sapphire eyes look after me like the world couldn’t tame that stubborn gentleness that believed in me. That I could do anything. Like my ideas were not foolish just because they were mine. Like my wanting to be better—better than blood, better than tradition, better than what they expect of a woman and a half—wasn’t some childish fantasy to be corrected.He always believed in me. That I could rule at all.And it has been too long since I last received anything that felt like him. Not a report. Not a request. Not another clipped summary of someone else’s suffering. Something warm. Something like home.I want to hear from him. I want to hear from Johan, too. I want a letter that isn’t returned unopened, isn’t swallowed by distance, and isn't lost to silence like so many prayers flung into the wind.My mind betrays me with images I shouldn’t tempt myself
*Anastasia*I barely notice my skirt whispering against the stone as I push forward. A bit too fast to be dignified, but too intent on putting distance between myself and that room. The domed chamber falls away behind my shoulders in a blur of gold and turquoise, torches and marble and watching mouths. The doors shut somewhere behind me, heavy, final.But the warmth doesn’t follow. The fire pits can crackle and pop all they like in there, so bright and careless, pretending at comfort. But out here the corridor is immediately colder, and it feels personal. As if the chill seeps through the seams of my very slippers like an unwavering judgement at everything I do. Relentlessly quiet, efficient, and straight to bone.I keep moving anyway. Press faster. Not that it changes the feeling.Because I can still feel it. The lingering gaze of both trailing after me till the very last turn. Pale brown and vermillion both. Admiral Nugen’s steady weight. The opposite to Mykhol’s…something else. So
Naska stared at the cup instead of taking it, more shocked than surprised at the motion. Someone poured her drink? It was indeed a first. No one had ever done anything for her. She was so used to doing everything for herself. And glancing up, the sight of who did, only made her more confused.It w
*Nicoli*Nicoli held onto Ana like a man gripping the edge of a cliff—tight, unyielding, unwilling to let go for even a second. The very idea of releasing her, even to their father, was absurd. No. Absolutely not.He had waited too long, ached too much, spent years longing for this moment. And now
*Belinda*“The answer is no.” Belinda threw the invitation down on the desk, wishing she could just rip the entire paper to shreds. “You are not to attend.”“But mother,” Nicoli was up from the chair. “Why?” His blue eyes searched her face, a look of confusion clear as day. “I was invited, wasn’t I
*Hidi*Hidi shifted, yet again, trying to make herself comfortable. But it was a fool's cause, and she knew it. The sofa was simply too small, though a more than adequate size for a vampire, it was vastly shortcoming to her grand size. Why, Hidi’s hips, alone, swallowed up two seats per side, but







