The Alliance

Chapter 25; A sister’s advocate.

A loud knock on the door interrupts everybody in the room. Who could that be? They all asked themselves. “I will take a look.” Aurora cuts in and steps out of the chambers to face the intruder. Alas it’s the new groom who had little or no time to bond with his bride at the altar.

As Phillip stands in the grand corridor outside the royal chambers, his expression is lined with frustration and concern. His fists clench at his sides as he faces Princess Aurora. “I wish to see my wife,” he says firmly.

Aurora, standing tall with an unreadable expression, shakes her head. “That will not be possible.”

Phillip’s brows furrow. “Why?” His voice is laced with impatience. “She is my wife now. I have the right to see her. I’ve had enough with all these rules, my wife was crying at the altar, I want to know if she’s okay now.”

Aurora’s eyes darken. “She’s fine. She was only overwhelmed and It is Eldermere’s tradition that the bride must be prepared before the wedding feast. She must not be seen until she is presented at the banquet.” She meets his gaze unflinchingly. “You will have to wait, Your Highness.”

Phillip exhales sharply, his jaw tightening. He wants to argue, but something about Aurora’s unwavering tone warns him against pressing further. After a moment, he nods stiffly and strides away, though his frustration is evident in the rigid set of his shoulders.

As soon as he is gone, Aurora turns to the waiting attendants. “Get her ready.”

The maidens nod and hurry into Jasmine’s chambers. Inside, Jasmine sits stiffly on a cushioned stool, her fingers nervously twisting in her lap. The moment she sees them enter, her stomach churns with unease.

The attendants waste no time. They work quickly, brushing her long, dark hair until it shines, weaving pearls and gold pins into the strands. They paint her lips a deep rose, dust her cheeks with fine powders, and dress her in a gown of deep violet silk embroidered with silver threads. A heavy necklace rests against her collarbone, and golden bangles jingle at her wrists.

Jasmine barely recognizes herself in the mirror.

Aurora steps into the room, watching the transformation with an unreadable expression. Then, she walks up to Jasmine and places a firm hand on her shoulder. “Listen to me carefully,” she says in a low, threatening tone.

Jasmine swallows hard, nodding.

“You are the princess of Eldermere now—at least until we find Bianca,” Aurora continues. “You will play your role without fail. That means you will dine with the prince, you will smile at him, and you will bed him if necessary.”

Jasmine flinches. “I—I can’t—”

“You will,” Aurora cuts in sharply. “Because if you refuse, he will suspect something. And if he suspects something, he will start asking questions we cannot afford to answer.”

Tears sting Jasmine’s eyes. “But—”

Aurora grips her chin, forcing her to meet her gaze. “But listen to me, and listen well.” Her voice turns colder. “You will not fall in love with him. You will not carry his child. He is not your husband, and you are nothing but a placeholder. Do you understand me?”

Jasmine bites her lip, trying to hold back her sobs. She nods weakly.

Aurora releases her with a sigh. “Good.” Then, she turns to the attendants. “She is ready. Take her to the feast.”

As Lyanna is being led away, a group of weary men stride into the chambers where the nobles of Eldermere’s court have gathered to discuss, their boots caked in dust from their long journey. They approach the Elders of Eldermere, their expressions grim.

One of them steps forward and bows deeply. “We searched everywhere, my lords. There is no trace of Princess Bianca.”

A heavy silence falls over the chamber.

The eldest among them, Lord Gareth, rubs a trembling hand down his face. “This is disastrous,” he mutters.

“If King Maises learns of this…” another elder whispers, his voice filled with dread.

“We don’t have a choice,” Gareth replies bitterly. “And when he does, he will have our heads for allowing Vnyra to smuggle the princess out of Mercia right under our very noses.”

Amira, who has been listening in silence, folds her arms tightly. “Then we must make sure he never learns the truth, not until we’ve searched far and wide for her.” Amira says.

The elders exchange uneasy glances, but no one argues.

Meanwhile In the quiet corridors of the castle, Calista paces anxiously, her hands clutched together. She jumps when Amira steps into her path.

“You’ve been restless all day,” Amira observes coolly. “What is it?”

Calista hesitates, biting her lip. Then, after a deep breath, she whispers, “How could I not be? Bianca has been kidnapped by the very kingdom that threatens Eldermere’s safety. Vnyra and the riverlands have been a threat to us for decades. If Vnyra truly has her, she’s already as good as dead.”

Amira scans the corridors cautiously before yanking Calista’s arm to pull her close. “I need to tell you something.”

Calista raises an eyebrow. “Go on.”

Amira leans in even closer. “The note… The one we found in Bianca’s chambers—the one with Vnyra’s crest?”

Calista nods.

Amira swallows hard. “It was a lie.”

Calista’s eyes narrow dangerously. “What?”

Amira’s voice drops to a whisper. “Sir Dorian wrote it. He gave it to me and told me to use it as a decoy.”

Calista stiffens. “Why?”

Amira clenches her fists. “Because Bianca was never taken by Vnyra. She ran away. With him.”

Calista stares at her in stunned silence. Then, slowly, her lips curl into a dark, knowing smirk.

“Well,” she murmurs, “isn’t that interesting?”