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?”
*Bruno*(Song recommendation for this chapter: Light of the Seven by Ramin Djawadi)Bruno stood alone in the middle of the courtroom, feeling the cold sink into him like a living thing—not merely temperature, but a sentience that seemed to understand exactly what had been stripped from him. The stone beneath his feet absorbed his weight with a ruthless indifference, each vein feeling like a silent witness to his unraveling. His skull was still ringing from the marble's brutal kiss.The sting of drying blood pulling at the corner of his mouth each time he swallowed. And the place his mother had been standing was now an absence so sharp it felt haunted—like a missing limb, like a wound that wouldn't stop reaching for what it had lost.His bangs had slipped back into place, veiling his eyes further, but they didn’t feel like armor anymore. Not after Mykhol easily took even that from him. Exposing him, like a babe ripped from the crib and found wanting.And still, across from him, Mykhol
*Bruno*The courtroom felt like an ice-sealed tomb—stone and shadow breathing with a cold so precise it could slice flesh from bone. The long, hollow windows sweated a chill that crept across the air like invisible talons, gripping tighter with each passing moment.Only two figures stood illuminated in the dying candlelight.Like fire and ice.Sir Bruno versus the Black Knight.Mykhol still loomed over him, close enough that Bruno could taste him in every inhale—pepper and something dark, wine-rich and choking. His hand remained near Bruno’s face for a beat longer than necessary, rings catching the last restless flickers of torchlight, as if he were unable to pull himself back. Too tempted to savor this moment where Bruno couldn’t retreat.Bruno’s lip throbbed once more, where Funda had struck him; the wound sealing up now, healing, but the dried blood dragged at his skin like a reminder branded into his very being. He held himself still, jaw locked, palms stinging where his nails had
*Bruno*The moment crystallized like a crack through glass before the door even finished settling on its hinges.A razor-sharp click of heels against marble. A blur of movement so swift it sliced the air—a whip of velvet, the striking gleam of gold rings against pale skin, a hand already rising as if it had been waiting for permission all night.Cold wind rushed past, carrying the bite of stale ashen fire pits gone to embers, the sputtering torchlight, and Lady Funda's perfume— a thick gagging cluster of overlayered scents that had burned a hole in some corner of his vulnerable memories. It swallowed him.Bruno’s body tried to move- do what it had been systematically trained for. A mechanical response caved into him by fourteen years of relentless abuses. Hands instinctively rising. Head angling down. Shield the face. Brace for impact constructed from learned helplessness.But this time, his mind was a heartbeat too slow.The slap landed with a sound that seemed to crack the very marb
It was late. Very late. Bruno didn’t need a clock to tell him—he felt the hour etched into the very bones of the palace. The air had transformed into something razor-thin and sharp, as past midnight had carved itself into the very atmosphere. Sound itself seemed reluctant, exhausted, the corridor holding its breath like the walls were living things that had witnessed too many secrets.The moment he slipped out of Ana’s chamber, the warmth was ripped from him.Most torches had surrendered to the night, burning down to fragile, trembling stubs. Those few flames that still clung to life did so weakly—more phantom than light, casting more shadow than comfort. No servants moved through this wing now, no hands to trim wicks or replenish oil. Ana’s corridor was forgotten, ignored, as if like before —save for just hours ago, when servants and nobles stalked marble in wake of a collapsed Empress. The only time it ever seemed to have changed in all his fourteen years.The door clicked shut beh
*Bruno*“Boy,” the voice came out softly. Almost too much so that for a moment Bruno didn’t even register that it was meant for him. No one spoke to him like that. In such a considerate or respectful manner. Not besides his own mom and Ana, that was. Words that weren't barbed and brutal, slurs and vulgarities towards him or Naska, that he'd learned to let slide past like snow falling on stone.So he didn’t answer.He remained rooted where he'd been planted for hours at the edge of Ana’s bed, shoulders squared in a posture that had long ago shed any remnant of childhood—angular, controlled, a shield built from survival. The chamber had quieted down now, stripped of the chaos that had stormed through it hours earlier— no more frantic servants tripping over themselves, no desperate clatter of medical implements, no arguing physicians whose voices scraped like broken glass.Only the fire spoke now.It chewed through seasoned wood with a steady, almost petulant rhythm, as if disappointe
*Mykhol*The heavy wooden door swung shut behind Mykhol with a muffled thud, sealing him into the familiar sanctuary of his private study. He didn’t bother to look about him as he entered–the room knew him the way a hound knew its master—by the scents of aged parchment, rich mahogany, and the faint metallic tang of blood-wine. Warm candlelight danced across the room, casting shifting shadows along the towering bookshelves and transforming the dark rug beneath his boots into a sea of muted patterns. Mykhol strode purposefully across the room, his steps sure and unhurried. Vermillion colored eyes focused straight ahead, he reached for the waiting decanter with a hand that knew every groove and ridge of the cut crystal. The soft clink of glass meeting glass punctuated the heavy silence, a refined sound at odds with the restless energy thrumming beneath his composed mask.As the blood-wine poured in a shimmering crimson ribbon, Mykhol watched the flickering firelight paint sinister glin
*Belinda*“Of all the things he could do.” Belinda clenched her teeth to stop herself from yelling. The fury and disappointment were welling over, but servants were still running about. What if they were to hear her?Worse, what would they report back to Alexander? Belinda could already imagine how ea
*Nicoli*It must be today. Nicoli thought before involuntarily shivering. Despite it not snowing for some time, the air was still freezing. Sitting next to the window proved quite the task, but Nicoli refused to budge. He was determined to stay at his post. “Nicoli, if you are cold, come away from t
*King Alexander/Johan *“Oh, happy day,” Alexander sang as he traversed the halls with Johan in tow. Johan only shook his head at the apparent display of joy. Alexander was on the brink of bursting by this point. “As old as you are, you never learned to be subtle, did you?” Johan remarked as soon as
*Ana*“Marriage?” I repeat the word. “You…want to talk about-” I pause to look around the room. “You mean,” I point at myself, “My marriage?”“Yes, your marriage,” Duke Zaver nods with another laugh behind him.“Are we finally talking about it?” A noble woman turns to another with a happy clap. “Now t







