The Alliance

Chapter 13: Scorn of misery

The sun casts a warm amber glow over the riverbank as Eldermere’s convoy pause for rest. The sound of water rushing over smooth stones fills the air, mingling with the distant laughter of knights exchanging stories and the crackle of small fires where meals are being prepared. Horses graze peacefully, and tents are slowly being pitched in preparation for the night.

At the far side of the camp, Princess Aurora, Calista and Amira speaks in hushed tones to the King’s eldermen.

“Her face is in a dreadful state,” Aurora says, her brow furrows in concern. “The rash hasn’t faded. If anything, it’s worsened.”

Calista adds, “We’ve sent word to a nearby village for a healing balm. We can only hope it arrives in time to make a difference before the wedding.”

The eldermen exchange glances, their faces grim. “The prince will not look kindly on such a misstep. If her face isn’t healed, it could put the alliance at risk.”

Aurora bites her lip, but Amira places a reassuring hand on her sister’s arm. “We’ll do everything we can to ensure no one sees her face until the wedding. It will be covered until then.”

“I wish mother was here” Aurora signs “She would’ve known what to do-“

“Aurora one day you’d rule Eldermere, surely you cannot wait for mother to solve all your problems.” Amira teases her.

“Well it could be something she ate, or touched that triggered it” Calista adds, trying to figure out what could have ruined Bianca’s face.

“It looks like a chemical reaction yet I cannot wrap my head around who could do such a thing, who could have poisoned her face in her sleep. We need to be wary of everyone around us. The enemy could be in our midst.” Amira says, clutching her fists.

“Well I’m sure we’d come up with a plan but for now let’s us freshen up in the river. We have a long journey ahead.”

Down by the river, the princesses gather at the far end, enjoying a rare moment of relaxation. Their laughter rings out as they bath in the cool water, splashing one another playfully. The light of the setting sun reflects off their wet hair, giving them an almost otherworldly glow.

But Bianca is absent from their joy. She has secluded herself under a nearby waterfall, where the roar of the rushing water drowns out the sounds of her sisters. Kneeling by the falls, she bath in solitude, her veil cast aside for the moment. Her hands move delicately over her inflamed skin, trying to soothe the sting. She stare at the rushing water with a mix of frustration and determination.

From the corner of her eye, Bianca notice Jasmine approaching hesitantly, carrying a small pitcher of water.

“I thought you might need some help,”

Jasmine offers softly, her eyes averted out of respect for Bianca’s discomfort. The look of her scarred face, too hideous to be revealed..

Bianca doesn’t respond at first, merely nodding as Jasmine kneels beside her. As Jasmine helps pour water over her back, the thin material of her soaked dress clings to her body, revealing the faint outline of a round medallion hanging from a chain around her neck.

Bianca’s sharp eyes catches the glint of the medallion beneath Jasmine’s dress. “What is that?” she ask, her voice cool and edged with suspicion.

Jasmine freezes, clutching the pitcher tightly. “It’s nothing, Your Highness. Just an old trinket from my mother.”

Bianca raise a brow, her curiosity piques, but the rushing water obscures her view of the medallion. “It doesn’t look like nothing. Let me see it.”

Jasmine instinctively clutches the medallion through her dress. “It’s personal, Princess. I don’t think it would interest you.”

Bianca narrows her eyes, but before she can press further, a strange smile curves her lips. She leans closer, her voice low enough to be swallowed by the roar of the waterfall. “Do you know why my face is ruined, Jasmine?”

Jasmine’s heart skips a beat. “Princess, I—”

“It is because of you,” Bianca interrupts, her tone as sharp as a blade.“You are the reason I poured that poison on myself. You… and that portrait the ambassador carried back to Mercia, was all part of my smart plan to avoid this cursed union.”

Jasmine’s breath hitches, her mind racing. She tries to respond, but the words caught in her throat.

Bianca’s smile turns cold. “Soon, Jasmine, you will wear the veil. Not me. And when the time comes, everything will fall in place.”

Lyanna stares at her, stunned, as the weight of Bianca’s words sink in. Before she can say anything, Bianca turns away, letting the waterfall cascade over her, leaving Jasmine trembling in complete confusion. Yet she cannot take any word that Bianca says to heart. Bianca is like a wounded soldier who lost the battle before it even began. Jasmine knows how it feels to forsake a loved one for sworn duties, the sting can drive you insane.

Soon the sound of the rushing water fills the silence, but in Jasmine’s chest, her heartbeat thunders with dread and pity.

Bianca’s cold smile deepens as she turns her sharp gaze back to Jasmine again. “When we reach Mercia,” she says, her voice low but venomous, “you’ll stay out of sight. No one is to look at you until the wedding. Do you understand?”

Jasmine swallows hard, gripping the pitcher in her hands as if it might ground her. “But, Princess, I—”

“Do not argue with me,” Bianca snaps, cutting her off. Her tone is icy, her eyes blazing with a mix of fury and desperation. “You’ll stay hidden. No one must see your face until it’s time. If you disobey me, Jasmine…” She pause, leaning closer, her voice dropping to a near-whisper. “…you’ll regret it.”

Jasmine nods shakily, her throat tight as fear claws at her. “She has gone mad,” she thinks, blaming Bianca’s ill treatment on heart ache and frustration. “Yes, Your Highness.” She finally says.

Bianca straightens, her expression hardening again. “Good. And remember, Jasmine… this is your fault. All of it.”

Without another word, Bianca turns back to the waterfall, letting it cascade over her as if washing away the venom of her words. Jasmine remains frozen in place, trembling under the weight of the threat, the pitcher still clutched tightly in her hands.