Chatper 2
627 Words
The golden light of the afternoon sun filtered through the tall, arched windows of the Northern Palace, but it brought no warmth to Empress Diana’s private chambers. She sat motionless before her silver-framed vanity, her reflection staring back with a haunting calmness. Her long, silky black hair spilled over her shoulders like a river of ink, contrasting sharply with the pale amethyst of her eyes.
Behind her stood her personal maid, Yuna, whose hands trembled slightly as she pulled a pearl-encrusted brush through Diana’s tresses. The silence in the room was suffocating, broken only by the soft scritch-scritch of the bristles.
"Your Majesty..." Yuna began, her voice barely a whisper, thick with hesitation. "The palace is... abuzz with talk. I thought it best you heard it from me rather than the gossiping tongues in the hallway."
Diana didn't blink. She watched her own reflection, her face a mask of polished marble. "Speak, Yuna. I have never had a taste for riddles."
Yuna swallowed hard, keeping her eyes cast down. "His Majesty, the Emperor... he sent a gift to the dancer’s chambers this morning. It was a heart-shaped necklace crafted from the purest gold, adorned with South Sea pearls. They say it was commissioned by the royal jeweler weeks ago. He... he presented it to her himself, in front of the court attendants."
The brush caught on a small knot, but Diana didn't flinch. Inside, however, a sharp, cold blade of iron seemed to twist in her chest. A heart-shaped necklace. A symbol of affection he had never once offered her in all their years of marriage. She thought of Daphne—that girl with the light pink hair and those wide, predatory gold eyes—and felt a surge of weary disgust. To Diana, Daphne was nothing more than a manipulative child playing a dangerous game, yet Caspian was walking into her trap with his eyes wide open.
"A heart of gold," Diana murmured, her voice steady and devoid of emotion. "How fitting for a man who has lost his mind to a common performer."
"It is an insult, Your Majesty!" Yuna burst out, her composure finally breaking. "To give such a treasure to a mistress while you wear the modest jewels of the founding house... the nobility are whispering that he means to replace you!"
Diana’s amethyst eyes sharpened as she looked at her maid through the mirror. "Let them whisper. A crown is not held together by gold necklaces or the fickle whims of a man who cannot see past a pretty face. If the Emperor wishes to drown that girl in pearls, let him. It only proves how shallow his judgment has become."
She reached out, her slender fingers touching a simple, unadorned silver comb on her vanity. Though her words were cold, her heart burned with a quiet, simmering rage. She wasn't jealous of the necklace; she was insulted by the blatant lack of respect for her position and their history.
"Yuna," Diana said, her voice dropping to a chillingly quiet tone. "Do not let me see a single tear in your eyes for this. I am the Empress of the North. I do not compete with dancers, and I certainly do not weep over gold. Continue brushing. We have a banquet tonight, and I will not have a single hair out of place when I look my husband in the eye."
As Yuna resumed her work, Diana stared at her own hands. They were steady, but the coldness in her heart was beginning to solidify into something else—a resolve. If Caspian wanted to exchange his diamond for a piece of glass, she would let him. But she would not be there to catch him when he eventually realized his mistake.
- Writer
