Shackled Sorceress: Winter Queen

Court & Siblings

Once they were settled into the Main Hall, it was clear that Malus refused to leave Kalliope’s side. 

Decorums be damned, she was just short of sitting on Malus’ lap, his arm kept her tucked by his side. Which was just as well. 

In the Caeloran Royal Palace, the high-ranked officers and figureheads had their assigned tables. The Emperor dined alone at his throne, and while Malus and Kalliope’s table was the closest to his right, it was still several feet away from Erus.

Despite having been living here for almost two years now, Kalliope did not think she would ever get used to how cold, empty and vast the Royal Palace is. 

These halls were made for giants, the ceiling too high and the rooms too wide. The archways were over twenty feet tall, easily enough for the whole army to march through, made with hard stone and lined with iron. 

The severe lack of decor only served to make it greyer and colder. There was no statue, no vase. Nothing to distract the eyes from the dull lack of colour all around. Even the Emperor’s throne was carved out of a solid boulder of obsidian.

Before, when she first walked through these halls, Kalliope thought Malus’ ancestors were seriously trying to compensate for something. And now that she knew the reason, she thought that the generations between the founding fathers and her husband were definitely trying to compensate for something.

At the very least though, the feasts were always generous.

Kalliope was never a drinker, but whenever she had to make an appearance for a banquet here, the urge to drink herself silly was strong. Thankfully, with Malus around, she could give into her impulses and, judging by how steadily he was refilling her challice, he was encouraging it.

Malus must be up to something no good.

Suspiciously, Kalliope pouted at him, prompting a soft chuckle and earning herself a kiss. 

“Why the dour face, my love?” Malus asked, nose nudging against the side of her head.

“You are up to something, aren’t you?”

He feigned surprised, but his laughing too-blue eyes gave it away, “Who? Me? I would never!”

Biting back the urge to laugh, she huffed, “Oh, you are trouble…”

Malus grinned, leaning down to kiss her, “Wouldn’t you indulge me, starlight? I have missed you so.”

That softened Kalliope, and she melted into him a little more. After all, she had missed him too. Two months of his absence was difficult for her heart, and that had not factored in the other events that had transpired. And with Asa still on her mission, Kalliope was entirely alone. 

It was a risky move on their part, but upon hearing what Malus had to say, Kalliope had insisted on carrying out the plan. Sure, Malus had members of the courts, the majority of them in fact, on his side, but their loyalty was to him, not Kalliope. Other than her stint in wiping out a battalion of assassins sent for her during the heights of winter, she had not proven to be someone worthy of their support.

Insulting, but Kalliope understood their standpoint. In their eyes, she turned from a potentially useful object into a dangerous weapon, but that did not make her equal to Malus. 

His little incursion was the perfect opportunity to give them the incentive to see her differently. 

“A-ah!” Kalliope let out a surprised yelp as she was suddenly pulled to sit on Malus’ lap, almost dropping her chalice in the process. She slaps his chest in retaliation. The Mad-Prince only laughed at her.

“What are you thinking about, beloved? Do not think about others while I am here.” He gave her a mock pout, to which she wrinkled her nose at.

“Oh, I can assure you, husband, my thoughts definitely involve you.” 

“Then you should speak to me instead.” He murmured, nosing at her neck. Kalliope blushed, trying not to let the motion affect her too much and failing miserably.

“Yo-you are impossible!”

Malus laughed, sending a pleasant shiver down her spine.

As per custom, droves of people came to present themselves at their table. Malus’ half brothers and sister were among them as well. There was the soft-spoken, fragile beauty Princess Alista, the flirty young Prince Nentus, the young and dignified Prince Maldred, and, of course Kalliope’s least favourite, Prince Numos.

For once, however, Kalliope’s mood wasn’t too soured by Numos’ subtly fake mien. Her joy at Malus’ return was too great for him to achieve that for one. But she was also distracted by the lingering sadness in Alista’s eyes when she greeted the happy couple.

“Alista is not doing well,” Kalliope said as her sister-in-law, the one surviving full-sister of Malus, walked away, “she clearly does not want to attend her betrothal banquet.”

Malus hummed, rubbing circles into Kalliope’s back, “Ah, it is coming up, no?” 

“Yes, I was tending to the arrangements a few weeks ago and requested an audience with her. She held her composure, but it was clear her heart was not in it.” 

“Have you tried speaking to her directly?”

Kalliope huffed, taking a sip of the wine, “I doubt she would open up to me. Since my arrival, we have spoken to each other less than you could count on one hand. I was hoping you could try…”

Malus smirked, rubbing his cheek against hers, “I can assure you, light of my life, I would have less of a chance to speak heart to heart with her than you do.”

“How so?”

“Ah, my dear little sister is terrified of me, of course.”

Kalliope sighed, but had expected the answer, “And I thought my relationship with my sister was dysfunctional.”

He laughed, but didn’t comment further, choosing to distract Kalliope from serious topics. It was clear he had no mind for matters other than their own reunion. Kalliope sighed, but could not blame him. She was happy to see Malus too, and being by his side again made her feel safe. Secure, because they finally got each other.