Shackled Sorceress: Winter Queen

Sisters After All

They waited for Venus’ arrival at the windswept dock. 

Wearing a silver-grey gown with a luxurious dark cape lined with snow white fur, Kalliope is a shimmering mark upon the snow-dusted shore, standing next to her husband’s dark shadow. Her starlight hair is braided and decorated in dripping baby blue sapphires, the betrothal dragon pin sat proudly behind her horned circlet. Kalliope’s servants had arranged her heavy cloak to coil around her like the tail of a great serpent, her trimmed waist and scaled-patterned gown only gave more into the illusion of something reptilian.

Draconic.

Her hand nestled in the crook of Malus’ elbow, relishing in his eternal warmth, just as she was relishing in the way his eyes were not upon the ship in the horizon, but on her. 

“You look particularly delectable today, starlight.” He purred, his other hand rubbing warmth into her pale fingers. Kalliope fought to keep her painted lips from quirking up, failed, and smirked at him.

“I am especially good at giving a certain impression. It is a bonus that it has… certain effects on you.” 

Malus chuckled, bowing down to press a kiss upon her brows, “Only the Gods know why they think your sister is more attractive than you.”

“Not all men are immune to magic and exempt from fear,” Kalliope was quick to quip back, then added, “and mad.”

That drew out a laugh from Malus, who nudged his nose against her temple lovingly before straightening himself.

It hit Kalliope, how she did not notice these gestures, almost primal, from Malus before. 

Just like how she did not care for Venus’ scheming natures.

As Kalliope looked upon the horizon, towards the nearing ship bearing the golden crest of Alari, she wondered if she was being too paranoid. 

Venus was her sister after all. Saved for the terrible way she had acted towards Kalliope’s departure, Venus had never been unkind to Kalliope. She had been, in fact, the only one Kalliope could seek solace from, amidst the isolation she felt back… home. 

It was strange to think of Aleria as such now, when looking back, Kalliope was a stranger in the place she was born. The pretty dreams of bringing knowledge and prosperity to every corner of the country was a distraction, to allude to the fact that even her closest servants were afraid of her. Perhaps subconsciously, Kalliope thought that once the people knew who she was inside, not what she was, they would have loved her.

But such a case was only a fantasy, one that melted away like spun sugar on a rainy day. 

It was in the past now. 

Kalliope took a long blink to chase away the back and forths in her head, bracing herself for whatever that might come.

She held her head high as the ship’s plant slammed onto the dock. The Royal Consort’s entourage flowed onto the shore in a flurry of colours and chiming sounds. And were those drums? 

Silk dancers, in outfits that could not possibly be healthy for this temperature, heralded her arrival, while two rows of flag bearers followed them. A line of servants, dressing just a tad warmer than the dancers, emerged next. 

Kalliope winced minutely. Even from this distance, she could see the goosebumps on their skin.

Venus truly was pulling out all the stops for her visit. 

The Royal Consort finally descended from the ship, arm linking with someone Kalliope had never seen before. 

A few weeks before Venus’ arrival, another letter made it to Kalliope’s desk. Once again, it was in the same completely unfamiliar handwriting, and stated that since Alista’s betrothal ball was close to the visiting date, one of the invitees, King Eiras’ youngest brother, Rion, would travel with Venus to Caelora. 

Kalliope accepted, having expected something to this degree after reading through the guest list. It did not help her paranoia, wondering why Venus, or whoever wrote the letter, neglected to mention this detail in the first place.

Unlike his Royal Brother, Prince Rion was young and beautiful. Golden-haired and green-eyed, he was tall, tanned, toned and unblemished. Wearing a sparkling set of gold and silver armour, a charming grin played on Rion’s full lips, his strides were confident and energetic. 

Venus glided next to him, her hand in the crook of Rion’s elbow. In a golden gown accented with green and purple gems, the audacious cuts were even more exposing than what the dancers wore. But Kalliope could tell that there was a glimmer of magic over Venus’ body, defending her from the Caeloran merciless weather. She was leaning onto Rion a bit closer than strictly necessary, a small, coy smile on her lips.

Kalliope did not need to glance up to know Malus was wearing the same frown as she was. That they came to the same conclusion. Nevertheless, Kalliope smoothed out her expression as the entourage reached them.

“Presenting Their Royal Highnesses, Prince Rion Salvatar the Second and Royal Consort Venus Cauduen Jargannen.”

Prince Rion performed a sweeping bow, while Venus curtsied. 

“Your Royal Highnesses,” Rion offered them a sunny, unassuming smile, “I thank you for extending your hospitality to us, especially with my abrupt addition to this visit.”

Malus tipped his head minutely, “Of course, Prince Rion. A guest of my sister is a guest of mine.”

Prince Rion’s smile wilted a smidge, but he recovered quickly upon turning to Kalliope, “And Your Highness Kalliope. You are as radiant as I remember.”

Kalliope blinked, but instead of bursting out the questions at the tip of her tongue (“have we met?” and “who are you?”), she subtly dug her fingers into her husband’s forearm, feeling his bloodlust spiking. 

“Thank you, Highness,” Kalliope inclined her head regally, then turning to Venus, “Royal Sister, it is good to see you well.”

Venus’ visage was pleasant, but Kalliope was raised alongside her, stayed beside her through all those years. Kalliope saw her tell, the slightest twitch of her pinkie, resting over Rion’s elbow.

“It is good to see you are well as well, Royal Sister.”

Something twisted in Kalliope’s gut upon that title. Perhaps it was only because traditions and proprietary dictated it, perhaps because there were so many people here, watching… But a small part in Kalliope had hoped that Venus was going to smile at her mischievously, calling her “Kalli” again. 

“Shall we get out of this terrible wind?” Malus offered, jovial with a touch of steel in his voice, “As much as I adore our Empire, Caeloran weather is not made for outdoor activities.”

“Thoughtful as always, Your Royal Highness,” Venus aimed her charming smile at Malus. Kalliope squeezed his bicep again at Malus’ involuntary shudder, wanting to laugh and scream at the same time.

Together, they led the procession into the Palace, Venus and Rion a few paces behind them. Malus leaned down and pressed a kiss to Kalliope’s temple, whispering.

“It will be over before you know it.”

Kalliope rolled her eyes, but grateful for his reassurance. 

Instead of taking them to the banquet chambers, Kalliope and Malus led them to one of the smaller dining rooms. Which, by normal standards, was still vast. 

The servants pulled out their chairs. Venus immediately took the seat left of the head of the table and seemed surprised, if mildly disappointed, that Malus did not take that seat, instead opting to sit to Kalliope’s right, opposite of Prince Rion.

“In Caelora, only the head of the family, which in this case is His Holiness Erus himself, may sit at the head of the table.” Kalliope explained, and felt a thrill of vindication at the brief looks of discomfort passing through Venus and Rion’s faces upon hearing the Conqueror’s name. 

As always, Venus recovered in the blink of an eye, “And I assume His Holiness is not joining us?”

“He would not be, no.” 

Rion’s smile dropped a little when Malus did not offer any explanation. Kalliope waited for a beat, before saying, “His Holiness often dines alone.”

Aside from his ruthlessness, The Emperor was known for his unorthodox disdain towards visiting royalties. That was to say he was untrusting of them, and was blatantly announcing that he was too important to greet most of them in person. Insulted many might be, they were not stupid enough to provoke His Holiness’ wrath upon them. 

Venus and Rion must know more than enough to stop prodding. 

Normally, Malus himself would not entertain visiting guests of this caliber either. However, he was not going to throw Kalliope out there alone to the wolves, or so he said. Secondly, he wanted to gauge what kind of person Rion was before the Prince was going to interact with his sister.

Dinner was a quiet affair. Other than the usual pleasantries, there was not much spoken among them. Kalliope was too tense and too bitter. Malus was too cautious and judgemental. Venus had a minute pinch to her brows, while Rion looked lost. More often than not, Venus looked like she wanted to speak, but a glance at Malus’ stony expression had her clamping her mouth shut, and focusing on whatever course it was in front of her. 

Kalliope felt a mixture of bitterness, vindication and sadness swirling within her. She wished it was not so, but also did not know how to untangle this mess. She realised with a pang of melancholy that she no longer knew how to speak to her sister. 

This almost felt like their breakfast with Queen Mother Virille, when everything spoken was wrong, and anything could trigger hurt or anger. Except the Queen was not here, and in her place was miserable, cold silence.

It was not until dessert and wine were served that Venus said something.

“Thank you for receiving us. I understand that it is not… traditional for the Caeloran Crown Prince to personally greet and entertain visitors of our… status.”

Several reactions happened around the table after her statement. Rion’s smile completely melted away, replaced by a half-offended, half-scared expression. Malus’ dark eyes twitched, so did his hand, which Kalliope immediately covered. 

“Perhaps so, but he is also my husband, and as my husband, he would greet my sister, regardless of status.”

Kalliope’s voice was far calmer than what she felt, and she did not know what possessed her to keep any ripple of emotion from her face. This seemed to surprise Venus, as she flinched, and looked at Kalliope, really looked at her, for the first time since her arrival. 

Sensing the shift, Malus dropped his fork and turned his hand upward, lacing their fingers together.

“No need to be so cordial, Lady Venus,” Malus addressed her, his smile far too pleasant to not be a threat, “it is as Kalliope said. I am here at her behest.”

Venus’ eyes narrowed, shifting from Kalliope to Malus quickly before her expression smoothed over, “It is a relief, seeing her being treated so well.” 

Kalliope knew that look. Venus had miscalculated the dynamic between Kalliope and Malus. The question was… was Venus doing this out of care, out of worry for Kalliope, or was it something else?

She decided to play along.

“There is no need to be so tense, sister,” Kalliope smiled easily, “Malus and I have been doing well since our departure from home. It has been a while. I have been anxiously waiting for your arrival, sister.”

A line appeared on Venus’ forehead, but that too immediately disappeared with her smile, “Indeed. There has been… much happening. The wedding, our trip to Alari, settling into the new Royal Palace… I meant to reach out, but it just slipped away,” Venus sighed, putting a hand over her chest, “I figured visiting now and seeing you in person would ease that ache.”

Malus’ hand twitched again. Kalliope squeezed his hand, keeping her smile and composure.

“I see. Well, I am glad you have made the trip. It is a long way from Alari.”

“Indeed it was. I have never sailed this far before.”

Kalliope’s smile widened just a tad, “Of course. Well, I am sure you would be relieved to rest your back on a solid bed. I shall see you in the morning, and we may take a tour of the Royal Palace.”

Something flickered past Venus’ eyes, “How thoughtful. Thank you for your consideration.”

“Of course… We are sisters, after all.”