The Alliance

Chapter 14: Web of deception

The grand gates of the Mercia looms ahead, their ironwork intricate and glinting in the early afternoon sun. The convoy from Eldermere slows as they approach, the sound of horses’ hooves muffles by the soft dirt path. Waiting at the entrance stands Queen Eleanor, regal and composed in a deep sapphire gown embroidered with golden thread, her crown catching the light. Beside her, Prince Phillip stands tall, his athletic frame wrapped in a fitted doublet of emerald green trimmed with silver—a color chosen to match the hues of his bride-to-be’s kingdom. His blonde hair is neatly combed, his pale skin— the color of snow and his piercing blue eyes scans the approaching party eagerly.

As the visitors dismount their horses and carriages, Queen Eleanor steps forward, arms extended in a warm gesture. “Welcome to Mercia,” she says, her voice smooth and melodic. “We are honored to host the daughters of Eldermere and your noble court.”

Aurora steps forward to bow respectfully, her sisters following her lead. “Your Majesty, we are grateful for your hospitality. It is a great honor to unite our kingdoms.”

“I received news about the ambush Eldermere’s court encountered on your way here. Hopefully by the end of this marriage, we’ll join forces to fight against a common enemy.”

Aurora bows deeply “You’re too kind Your Highness. And I heard about the king’s health, our prayers for him knows no bounds.”

Queen Eleanor smiles warmly but it falters briefly as her gaze shifts to Bianca. The violet veil covering her face stands out against the other princesses’ more traditional gowns. “Princess Bianca,” the queen says, her tone tinges with polite curiosity, “I must ask… why the veil? Is it custom in Eldermere?”

Aurora steps in quickly, her voice smooth and steady. “It is, Your Majesty. In Eldermere, it is a sacred tradition that the bride’s face remains hidden until her husband-to-be sees her for the first time at the wedding. It is meant to symbolize purity and devotion.”

Calista and Amira nods in agreement, murmuring their assent. “A cherished custom,” Amira adds, clasping her hands in front of her with practiced grace.

Queen Eleanor tilts her head, studying the group for a moment before nodding with understanding. “How lovely. I look forward to seeing your face, my dear, when the time comes.”

Bianca bows her head slightly, her voice soft and composed despite the tension in her chest. “As do I, Your Majesty.”

“Prince Phillip is good looking, Bianca will fancy him in no time.” Aurora whispers to Amira, who also nods in agreement.

As the procession moves through the grand gates into the kingdom, Jasmine stays toward the back of the group, walking among the attendants and keeping her head low. Her dark hair falls in loose waves, partially obscuring her face, which she keeps trained on the ground. Her heart pounds as she feels the weight of the grand occasion and the many eyes watching their arrival. She has done her best to blend into the crowd, hoping to remain unseen, yet her thoughts buzzes with anxiety.

Meanwhile, Prince Phillips gaze darts repeatedly to the violet-veiled figure riding near the front. His chest tightens with anticipation, his mind racing with thoughts of the portrait. The ambassador had spoken of her beauty, and now, the moment he has been waiting for—seeing her in the flesh—is nearly upon him.

He adjusts his emerald doublet and tugs at his cuffs, ensuring every detail of his appearance is perfect. He has selected this outfit deliberately, the silver embroidery meant to catch the sunlight and, perhaps, her eye. Though he carries himself with the air of a confident royal, there is a restlessness about him, his fingers drumming lightly on his thigh as he walks beside his mother.

“Be patient, Phillip,” Queen Eleanor says quietly, noticing his eagerness. “You will see her soon enough.”

Phillip nods, exhaling slowly. “I’ve waited this long,” he says with a faint smile. “A few more days won’t kill me.”

The princesses of Eldermere are ushered into their guest quarters, a lavish wing of the castle adorned with tapestries and fine furnishings. The sisters move gracefully, masking their weariness from the journey. Once inside, Amira pulls Bianca aside, her expression stern.

“Bianca,” she begins, her voice low, “I need to know the truth about the portrait. The one Calista sent to the prince.”

Bianca stiffens, her hands gripping the edge of her veil. “What about it?”

“Don’t play coy with me,” Amira says sharply. “You and I both know that portrait isn’t yours. That girl—the one who hides in the shadows—is the one the prince has seen. So tell me, what is your plan?”

Bianca’s lips press into a thin line, her eyes narrowing. “My plan is simple, Amira. I will ensure that this veil stays on my face until the wedding. And when it’s too late,Jasmine will take my place.”

Amira’s breath seizes, her eyes widening. “You’re going to switch places with her? No! I can’t let you do that.Do you realize the risk you’re taking? If this fails, it won’t just be you—they’ll come for all of us.”

Bianca’s voice hardens. “It won’t fail. It can’t fail. This is the only way to escape that cursed marriage and reclaim my freedom. Jasmine owes me this much. And if you say a word of this to anyone” she turns to face her younger sister, giving her an intimidating look. “This time it will not be my face that I poison, it will be my stomach!”

“No! Don’t say that!” Amira snaps at her.

Bianca straightens her face “Then make me a vow, promise me my secret is safe with you—“

Amira hesitates, her mind racing. “If you’re so determined, then fine, I promise—But you’ll need my help to make this work. Don’t try to do this alone.”

Bianca studies her sister for a moment before nodding. “Good. I knew I could count on you.”

The tension in the room hangs heavy as the sisters share a conspiratorial look. Outside, the sun dips closer to the horizon, casting the castle in golden light and signaling the beginning of the delicate web of deception they are about to weave.