Playing with Fire

IX - Letter

Months had drifted by since the lavish celebration of Edmund's birthday, an event that marked a turning point in my life. As the days passed, I found solace in the tranquility that enveloped my existence, a stark contrast to the turbulence that had characterized it before. News trickled in about the consequences faced by those who had tormented me. The princes and princesses responsible for my suffering had been placed on probation for a month, a consequence that paled in comparison to the emotional and physical scars they had inflicted upon me. The hand behind this probation, I suspected, was none other than Edmund's. It seemed he had realized the gravity of his siblings' actions and had taken some measure of responsibility for their transgressions.

Yet, as the days passed, the wounds that marred my delicate skin were far from healed, despite the symbolic punishment meted out. The bruises on my body were fading, but the emotional scars ran far deeper. The mere thought of those days sent shivers down my spine, a painful reminder of my vulnerability in the face of their unchecked power. And though the probation provided a small semblance of justice, it could never fully undo the pain and humiliation I had endured. Acceptance became my reluctant companion. I recognized the futility of complaining; my status within the kingdom was far too insignificant to challenge the ruling elite. Thus, I carried the weight of my suffering in silence, my voice stifled by the walls of the palace. It was survival, not defiance, that guided me through each day.

In the midst of this uneasy truce, Edmund emerged as a peculiar presence in my life. His visits to my chambers, while well-intentioned, felt burdensome. The unexpected knock on my door often jolted me from my solitude, and his concerned inquiries about my well-being felt like salt rubbed into still-fresh wounds. His actions, I supposed, were borne from a sense of guilt and a need to make amends for the wrongs his family had committed.

One day, he took his concern a step further, sending a doctor to my room to inspect the healing wound. The doctor's instructions were efficient, and I found myself with an array of ointments meant to prevent any lasting scars. It was a gesture that carried both sincerity and annoyance. While part of me appreciated the effort to mend what could be mended, I couldn't shake the feeling that this was merely an attempt to gloss over the more profound damage inflicted upon my spirit. Yet I bore it all with a smile that masked my inner turmoil. I had no other recourse; my position in the kingdom rendered me powerless against the whims of the royal family.

~

The library's hushed ambiance wrapped around me as I spent another listless afternoon among its ancient tomes and dusty shelves. The whispered secrets of forgotten stories seemed to hang in the air, mingling with the fragrant scent of aged paper. Penelope, always attuned to my language, had been the one to reveal this hidden haven to me. Perhaps she had noticed the perpetual boredom etched onto my features, the weariness that seemed to seep into every corner of my existence. And she wasn't wrong. There was an undeniable monotony to my life within the palace walls. My days were painted with the same strokes: meals to eat, sleep to beckon, and aimless walks through manicured gardens.

Seated upon a sumptuous velvet couch, positioned before a grand window that framed the library's expanse, I held a book in my hand. Its pages whispered tales of distant lands and daring heroes, but my gaze had long since strayed from its words. Instead, my mind had ventured beyond the confines of the room, reaching toward the vast expanse of the sky. A tranquil blue stretched overhead, adorned with the lively notes of birdsong. Lost in this reverie, I became an observer of nature's orchestra, lulled into a serene daze. Yet, as with all moments of reprieve, reality crept back in. Footsteps disrupted the symphony of silence, a harbinger of an approaching presence. The delicate clearing of a throat yanked me from my musings, and there stood Penelope, her posture one of respectful deference.

"Your highness," her voice carried the weight of protocol as she greeted me with a graceful curtsy.

A whisper slipped from her lips, shrouded in a veil of confidentiality. "An attendant of the King seeks your audience. His urgency is matched only by his need. The King awaits." A ripple of frustration coursed through me. It was he who required something, yet the urgency was imposed upon me. How I longed to voice my discontent directly to him, to let my sentiments resonate beyond the walls of my thoughts. But for now, I held my tongue and masked my dissatisfaction with a practiced nod.

"Very well," I conceded, rising from my velvet perch.

"I shall proceed to him at once. Stay here." With the parting words, I made my way outside, greeted by the synchronized bowing of palace guards stationed as silent sentinels. Their vigil had become a fixture in my life, a constant reminder of my position within the palace's intricate hierarchy. Ignoring their salutations, I traversed the familiar corridors, each step drawing me closer to the heart of the palace and the impending encounter with the King. The throne room loomed ahead, a chamber adorned with opulence, power, and the gravity of a decision. My entrance was marked by the trailing presence of those who existed to protect me, those whose loyalty was both a comfort and a shackle. Their vigilant eyes followed me as I approached the throne.

~

As we stood before the imposing doors, ornately adorned with intricate golden patterns, the entrance swung open unexpectedly, revealing the crown prince departing in evident haste. His countenance bore the marks of intense fury, his gaze too preoccupied to acknowledge my respectful bow. Nevertheless, I lowered my head in deference as he swept past.

"Please enter, your highness." The attendant's voice drew my attention, and with a nod, I left them behind and crossed the threshold alone.

Within, my gaze was met by the sight of the problematic monarch, a figure who often struggled to reconcile his power with his responsibilities. His hand massaged his forehead; weariness etched into his features as he contemplated a piece of paper held in his grasp. But another figure stood before him—a man who seemed to carry the weight of distant lands upon his weary shoulders. Though fatigued and worn, his duty was paramount, allowing no respite.

"Your royal highness, greetings." My voice held the practiced cadence of courtly manners as I curtsied, acknowledging my presence before the King. His gaze finally shifted toward me, though silence remained his response. A gesture directed the other man to present the paper he held, a request he conveyed through a bow before offering me the document. As I cast my eyes upon the written words, a surge of astonishment rippled through me. The contents of the page painted a narrative I had not anticipated, a revelation that widened my eyes in genuine surprise.

Your Majesty,

I write to inform you of a situation concerning your nephew that requires your attention. I have been diligently seeking a specific lady for the past month, but unfortunately, my efforts have proven fruitless. Your assistance in locating her would be a most treasured contribution, serving as a splendid prelude to the forthcoming wedding.

This lady possesses captivating crimson-red eyes, cascading silver hair that glimmers like precious diamonds, a complexion resembling flawless white porcelain, and lips as luscious as ripe red cherries.

Your timely response is of the essence, as the implications of any delay are not to be taken lightly.

Yours faithfully,

With deep regard from your affectionate nephew

The words on the paper before me triggered a stifled chuckle, a reaction born of incredulity. The audacious manner in which he appealed for his favor, the portrait he painted of me, and the veiled threat directed at the King of Rizalden were nothing short of fascinating. It was no wonder that he had earned the titles of a madman, a ruthless murderer, and a cold-hearted ruler. Fear had seemingly been a foreign concept to him. That one thing, hidden behind his façade, was something I was intimately aware of.

Recollections of the past collided with the present, and the image of the man I had encountered at the revelries and grand events stood in stark contrast to the persona depicted within the letter. The distance between the two versions was laughable, an irony that tugged at my lips. He had promised news within a month's time, and now, faced with the evidence of his vigorous search, amusement bubbled within me. The parchment lay testament to a game of pursuit, an intrigue that spanned kingdoms and transcended norms. With a shake of my head, I marveled at his tenacity and his determination to unearth me from obscurity. It was almost flattering.

Yet, amidst the unfolding intrigue, a realization swept over me like a sudden gust of wind. A question, unbidden but potent, seized my thoughts.

Does no one know that the King of Rizalden is keeping me here in the palace?

Does no one know that Edmund, the crown prince of this kingdom, kept one royal alive from the Ythen Empire?

Maybe... No one knew who Melantha was.

Where did she come from?

Who is she?

How did she manage to always be on the crown prince's side and enjoy the King's favor?

They only knew one thing about her: that she was an adopted princess. Then, long before she died, everyone finally found out about her.

A heavy sigh escaped my lips, and emotions rekindled as the memory of Melantha clawed its way back to the forefront of my mind. I inhaled deeply, reigning in the cascade of feelings that threatened to engulf me. Maintaining a composed façade, I turned my gaze toward the King, his countenance etched with a turmoil that echoed my own. One could hardly blame him. Cassius' letter was nothing short of a tempest, a storm clouding the horizon. His troubled expression mirrored my own internal conflict.

After all, who could remain untouched when faced with the schemes and designs of Cassius?

Cassius, a man unyielding in the face of war and unflinching since his youth, had forged his identity through defense and offense. His realm's protection had been a lifelong mission, a legacy carved through battles and sacrifices. His epithets—madman, ruthless murderer, cold-hearted king—held little weight against the backdrop of his people's deep-rooted respect. They recognized his competence and his unwavering commitment to their welfare.

A ruler who dared to bear the brunt of his people's burdens was a ruler deserving of admiration. And while the world may cast shadows upon his name, the people knew the truth—that he was a guardian, a protector, and a competent king who championed their well-being. The depths of my thoughts gave way to a realization of the path that lay ahead. The realm of intrigue was fraught with uncertainties, but my next steps had crystallized. My gaze returned to the parchment and the words that could shift the course of my fate. As I considered the options before me, the opportunity for negotiation bloomed like a fragile flower amidst the storm—a chance to traverse the intricate web of power and carve a destiny uniquely my own.

"The King of Arenthal wants me as his wife?" I inquired, feigning a semblance of confusion. The notion of marriage was perplexing, especially given that we had only met once at Edmund's birthday celebration.

The King's reply carried a sigh, a weightiness that hinted at something deeper. "Cassius also desires your presence in the Arenthal Kingdom. His birthday celebration is scheduled for the coming month, and he intends to publicly announce the engagement during the festivities." As the implications of his words settled, I began to scrutinize Cassius' intentions.

Does he genuinely intend to remove me from this palace?

Yes, considering his aspiration to marry me. However, should I indeed depart from this palace, it presents a singular opportunity for me to commence my quest in search of my people. It is essential that I expedite my arrival in the Arenthal Kingdom. If only I could find a way to engage in negotiations with the king.

Though, sensing the King's disquiet, I ventured to probe. "Why do you appear troubled, my King?"

He erupted in a fit of anger, his voice reverberating through the room. "That wretched, conniving bastard dares to manipulate his own uncle! He issues orders as if he were the ruler of this land! He seeks a girl, a king of this country!"

As the echoes of his outburst faded, silence lingered. Seizing the moment, I tried to soothe his frustration. "But he doesn't know me. He's unaware that I reside under your protection."

"I will do whatever is necessary to assist you, your royal highness," I added, bowing respectfully. However, his silence persisted, only broken by the departure of the man who had accompanied us. Now alone, the King's voice returned, tempered by the intensity of his emotions.

"Why would you do that?" he inquired, his gaze locked onto mine.

"Could it be that you believe I'm easily swayed by your words? Do you think I'm unaware of your desperate desire to escape this place and align yourself with that bastard in pursuit of vengeance for your family?" His voice seethed with anger, a revelation of his true sentiments.

"Do you detest him that deeply?" I questioned, curious about the source of his animosity. The novel's original narrative provided no answers, leaving me to navigate a new and uncertain storyline.

As his eyes averted, flustered, I sensed an opportunity to build trust. "I have the capability to eliminate him for you," I declared, holding his gaze. A flicker of surprise crossed his features.

"Why would you offer such a service?" His words held a mix of incredulity and curiosity.

"I'm willing to do whatever it takes. I have nothing left to lose, your royal highness. Everyone I cared for is no longer here," I replied solemnly, meeting his gaze head-on.

"And what of revenge? Is that not a motivation for you?" he inquired.

"I possess a more pressing purpose than vengeance, your royal highness," I answered confidently. His reaction was a blend of astonishment and contemplation.

"What is that purpose?" he probed.

"To live, your royal highness," I stated firmly. My words hung in the air, casting a spell of uncertainty upon him.

"Tomorrow, I wish to leave and spend a month observing the King. This would be my path toward building trust and understanding," I proposed, seeking to take control of my own destiny.

Today marked the beginning of the month, a month that held promise and uncertainty in equal measure. My immediate goal was to complete the tasks I had set for myself by month's end. After that, I would venture forth to meet the King of Arenthal and partake in his forthcoming birthday celebration. The prospect of escape from this suffocating place buoyed my spirits, and I eagerly anticipated the day of departure.

Within the grand throne hall, a heavy silence draped like a shroud. The king's contemplation filled the air, his decision looming over the space. My hopes hung on the precipice, yearning for the answer I longed to hear. The weight of the moment seemed to stretch into eternity. "Very well, then." The king's voice shattered the stillness, his response like a lifeline extended.

"I request to leave alone. You can dispatch the maids and guards a month after my departure," I stipulated, my words carrying a calculated intent.

The king's eyebrows furrowed, his suspicion evident. "And why is that?"

"As I mentioned before, there's a matter I must attend to—the pursuit of a life unfettered. Even if only for a month, your highness, I yearn for the taste of freedom. I acknowledge the fate that awaits me should I proceed to murder the king. My own demise is inevitable in the aftermath," I said, painting a picture of vulnerability and desperation.

"No harm will befall you as long as you remain under my protection." The king's words held a promise, a declaration of his intentions.

"Your magnanimity has granted me a life I would have otherwise lost. My gratitude is immeasurable," I expressed with a humble bow, though my heart danced with darker emotions.

"Your departure is scheduled for tomorrow." His voice sealed the deal.

"Thank you, your royal highness." My words were laden with sincere appreciation.

"Expect a delivery tonight. Await it." The king's final words held a mysterious edge. My heart raced with anticipation, the knowledge of what he might send tonight resting like a heavy secret. Poison, I presumed, was a final attempt to ensure my silence.

"I assure you, your royal highness, that I will fulfill my role and return the day after your birthday celebration. May the Goddess Vydite watch over you," I intoned with a final curtsy. His nod was an acknowledgement, and I departed the throne hall with a triumphant smile tugging at my lips. At last, the moment had arrived. The shackles that bound me to this palace were soon to be shattered, and the journey to reshape my fate was about to begin.