Witch Princess: Part 1: Chapter 6.1
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Chapter 6

The entire day passed with pampering: a rose bath, a perfume oil massage, a manicure, and a vegetable mask. Sephine laughed at Amirya’s relaxed face as she held different eye shadows up to it.

“How about this one, My Lady?” Sephine tilted the soft pink powder in her line of sight. “It’s paler than your eyes, so it’ll make them stand out.”

“It’s good.”

“Is it all good?” Sephine asked and raised an eyebrow.

Amirya closed her eyes and hummed in response as Yanafir combed back her hair.

I’m taking this as a brief repayment for the heap of shit until now. This is how a princess deserves to be treated. Amirya felt giddy, a childish part of her a bit haughty over her title of princess.

Estel entered wearing a beautiful orange gown that matched her eyes and swayed as she walked, completely different from her plain, simple day dresses. Amirya whistled and Estel immediately chastised her for such an unladylike antic. They helped her adorn the gown and accessories.

Originally, the satin chiffon fabric was a salmon pink, and while Estel would not yield to black, she allowed the designer to dye it a viridescent violet blue. Gem dust layered into the fabric created a starry effect, and lace trim accented the top of the dress and over the sleeves. The bosom of the dress dipped in a wide v-shape that fell off her shoulders and wrapped around her upper arm with cinched fabric, and a white bodice with intricate lace pushed her breasts up over the top of the dress.

The open sleeves showed her arms and tied beneath her elbows with neat ribbons sewn in. At the waist, the dress flared out, and a slit came up to her upper thigh on the right side. Three layers of the skirt laid on top of each other; their hems sewn with white ruffles and a lace undercoat beneath. Above the ruffles, pearls accented the dress with a small ornate design.

A large black gem molded into a silver brooch was pinned at the top of the dress slit, a string of pearls looped around the brooch. Sheer black stockings covered her legs; a pearl and crystal accessory wrapped around her thigh and then again under her knee. Matching pearl and crystal string bracelets dangled on each wrist and another lapped around the crown of her head. A small chain hung from the hair accessory and dipped in the center of her forehead where a small white gem glittered.

A string of pearls decorated her neck, close to her clavicle and looped twice, the second loop sat below her clavicle with a matching gem to her forehead. A string of pearls drooped from that gem and wrapped around her back while a crystal hung center, above her breasts, and the gem and crystal combo repeated on her earrings. Violet heels slide onto her feet, closed toe with a wrap around her ankle, decorated with small pearls.

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The sides of her hair were braided back, the crystal and pearl string threaded in, with small pieces left to frame her face. The rest was loose, and Yanafir carefully cultivated their curls. The highlights in her shiny hair appeared almost lavender with hints of pink hues, and Sephine patted a pink rose blush on the top of her cheekbones.

Amirya shooed Yanafir away who still agonized over each individual strand. “Nanny can see to the rest, finish dressing already.”

“...”

Amirya and Sephine stared at Yanafir who stood frozen with her hands awkwardly lingering in the air.

“Lady Yanafir, isn’t it your debut as well?” Estel cut in, not completely trustful of Amirya’s or Sephine’s follow up. Yanafir was seventeen and from a fallen noble family - as the princess’s personal maid, she would never have a greater opportunity to debut again.

“...Yes, ma’am.”

‘Ma’am,’ Amirya muttered and scrunched her nose. Estel yanked a piece of her hair, and her head jerked back with the momentum. Amirya blinked, stunned.

“It’s Seph’s as well,” Estel said fondly. “I took care picking the pieces out. Did Missus Vespyrnn choose that dress?”

Yanafir casted her eyes away, obviously ill at ease. Sephine smoothed down her own skirt. Her mustard yellow crepe dress complimented her skin beautifully, the bosom curved up, sleeveless, with strings crossing across her clavicle to tie around her neck. Over it, a dark pine green corset jacket accentuated her waist, and gold chains enveloped it like a belt.

At the top of the corset, beneath her chest, the jacket split wide and wrapped around the edge of her shoulders; the sleeves flowed over her arms in a sheer fabric with flowers sewn in. Around her neck were two short gold chains, and her favorite red crystal earring hung from one of her ears while a diamond stud was in the other. The white lace underskirt showed below her knees where her skirt ended, and it puffed up the bottom of the dress slightly. Though Estel fought against it, Sephine accented the outfit with brown boots laced with green strings.

“Well, no, but she’s busy…” Yanafir murmured.

“So, that’s the outfit you’re wearing on your debut?” Sephine asked as she crossed her arms.

Yanafir blushed and looked down to the floor. While Yanafir was less on edge lately with her sweet, non-confrontational nature shining through, she still heard the worst possible meaning in anything said to her. She never defended herself, only curled in. Self-consciously, she patted the worn brown and red basic dress.

Oh, we’re not picking on you! Amirya leaned forward and shook her head free from Estel. She stood and headed for her closet. Sephine caught on and trotted right behind her.

“Isn’t she quite thin and lanky? It should be tied at the waist.” Amirya said, finger on her chin as she inspected the line of dresses. A part of her felt giddy, like she was back on Earth, picking out outfits with friends for a night out.

Sephine shifted through them one by one, “Something soft in color… bright and attention-grabbing certainly isn’t her style.”

“Right, rather than sexy, it should be elegant, huh?”

Estel watched from the doorway with a barely hidden smile. When Sephine picked out a dress, she’d look to her mom who would shake her head - they did have to choose something Amirya hadn’t worn before. Yanafir stood in the doorway, stuttered, and waved her hands nervously.

“Are you, perchance, trying to argue with me?” Amirya said. Yanafir gulped. Instead of pity, Amirya felt the urge to bully her a bit more.

“Yeah, Lady Yanafir, there’s no way you’re defying the spawn of the sun!” Sephine laughed.

“Seph!” Estel barked and gave her a stern look. Sephine turned to Amirya, the back of her head to Estel, and half-heartedly stuck her tongue out. Sephine drew another out, a long light cerulean blue dress with a heart bosom and a lace top that wrapped around the neck; the top of the sleeve puffed out before tightening mid bicep. On the sides of the midsection, azure blue ribbon criss-crossed in the fabric and tied at the hips which allowed long ribbons to flow down.

“Ah, that one.” Estelle spoke up, “It’s gorgeous, but our Princess threw a fit about the sleeves and refused to ever wear it.”

“I do hate it,” Amirya said without looking at it. “Get rid of it at once.”

Sephine and Estel descended on Yanafir, and Amirya barely choked back laughter at the poor girl. The now tied blue ribbon revealed Yanafir’s thin frame. Amirya pilfered around until she found a simple silver necklace with a small pink gemstone and crystals; she showed Estel, who nodded and gently tied it around Yanafir.

“Sit,” Amirya commanded. Though spooked, the younger girl slowly sat on the vanity bench. She resembled a tense bunny, ready to hop away at the slightest sense of danger. After she untied and unbraided the girl’s hair, Estel tried to take over.

“Let me,” Amirya ordered. This pleased no one. But, Zee had some experience styling hair. Yanafir couldn’t leave it down because her previous style crimped the hair too much, so Amirya brushed it into a side part and french braided the smaller side around her nape.

The action reminded her of braiding Elle’s long, soft hair. It made her heart drop. She gathered all the hair into a low side bun, wrapped a braid around it, and teased a few strands to stylishly fall down.

“Woah, what the fu-” Sephine started, unable to finish since Estel smacked her in the shoulder and shouted her name.

Amirya shot a miffed expression without any real heat and grabbed a hair accessory. It had two connected pieces: the first part was tucked behind Yanafir’s ear, a silver flower with a crystal center and leaves that hung down, and two small chains looped around her skull where the second piece was placed in her bun, a slightly bigger silver flower with longer leaves cascading over her collarbone.

“If you don’t like it, just change it,” Amirya said apathetically.

“N-No, that’s not…” Yanafir trailed off and stared at herself in the mirror. She brushed her fingertips against the bun and accessory, her aura completely muted. Is this something to be so shocked about?

“You’ll need your makeup done, too,” Amirya mused and poked her face. Yanafir gazed into Amirya’s eyes, the first time she did so in such an open manner. Just as discomfort encroached on Amirya, a knock beat on the door. Sephine rested her hands on Yanafir’s shoulders and smiled in the mirror while Estel answered.

“I didn’t even know you could braid,” Sephine muttered. She shuffled around to the vanity and chose a few products to use on Yanafir.

“Sir Raven!” Estel said. “Are you here to fetch Princess Amirya for His Majesty?”

Raven smiled and bowed to her despite his higher status and agreed. He dressed in the same ceremonial uniform as the dragon heart ceremony. Amirya left the two girls, and when Raven saw her, his eyes widened.

“I didn’t realize you and His Majesty would match outfits,” he said as he offered his arm.

“...well,” Amirya mumbled. She nodded to Estel, “I’ll see you all in the ballroom.”

 

“Your Highness the Princess Aurelius, first, I hope your birthday is blessed,” Raven said in a low voice. No one else was in the hall to hear him, but he was careful nonetheless. “Could I ask a rude question, beyond my rights?”

Amirya examined his face and then his aura, steady as ever. “My curiosity begs me to agree.”

He laughed warmly, “Then - are you happier now than before?”

Her brain buffered. At first, she thought of her past life. The answer was no, not at all. She missed her family, her brothers and moms, her friends, and Elle. She missed the ease of modern life and the simplicity of a civilian. She missed her cell phone and her antidepressants.

“You seem to be, so I was hoping it was so,” he looked down at her out of the corner of his eyes, a foot taller than her.

“Sir Raven…” Amirya's head stung a little. “Why is it that you are always so kind to me?” Her voice was small. She almost recalled something. The emotion attached to it was rough. His sideways face, blood smeared across it, a sorry smile. She pushed it away.

“Do I need a reason?” Raven pondered lightheartedly.

“Yes,” she asserted. “You’re a noble, so, yes.”

“Oh, then,” Raven thought for a couple of minutes. “If My Lady was not a princess, what would My Lady be?”

Zee sprouted up in her head. “A girl,” she drawled obstinately.

“Yes, I think so too,” he grinned.

Amirya stuck her chin out with an incredulous expression. She sighed. “Meanwhile, Sir Raven would have to not be a prodigal warrior knight, nor a genius, nor the son of a Marquis, the nephew of the Eastern Duchess, nor a trusted retainer of the king… to be just a boy.”

“What have I done to be blessed with so many compliments from the Princess’s shrewd lips themselves?” Raven diverted easily. He was uncomfortable.

“Since when is the truth a compliment,” Amirya grumbled. It was more of a complaint rather than praise. He’s so nice, but I’m still jealous.

They walked until they reached one of the King’s drawing rooms’ doors. The servant knocked and called out their arrival before he opened the entrance. Amirya dropped Raven's escort but paused after she stepped forward, turned, and grabbed his wrist. The feeling of relief inside the memory of him standing on the other side of the cell door, and the feeling of despair inside the image of his bloody face troubled her.

“Thank you,” Amirya said seriously and released him.

She left him behind her and did not care to hear his reply. There was gratitude for his kindness, but also, a cynical thought that such respect was the bare minimum others should show her.

 
 
 
 
She bowed and called casually, “Father.” 
 
“I see Baroness Farena still fails to have you recite your proper greetings,” Galien said. A male servant tied the sash around his waist with rope. His regal attire suited him. A cape draped over one shoulder in the same iridescent violet blue as her dress. The top was hemmed with fur, fastened in place by a large silver brooch styled after the sun with a bright orange jewel. 
 
Underneath, he wore a high collar black shirt with white trim and an embroidered dragon across the chest. The sash was also violet, white twisted rope tied across it, reaching his mid shins. The shirt was more of a dress with two slits on the sides up to his waist, and he wore loose white pants underneath. 
 
Like always, his accessories were simple for a king. Thin silver rectangle earrings dangled from his ears, and only a couple of rings adorned his fingers. His hair had two small braids framing his face tied with silver cuffs. The rest of his hair flowed over his shoulders. A thin simple silver crown curved in a v on his forward with a small jewel.
 
“Why, Father, you look like a King,” she said in a voice of playful wonder. 
 
“Happy Birthday, my daughter.” He faced her and cupped her cheek in his hand. He patted her and then held out his arm. “Let’s go.”
 
That’s the amount of affection I get in a year. Did I already use up all his favor?
 
These little moments were why the past her continually sought him out, convinced she could receive love. 
 
He can say words like ‘my daughter,’ and I would melt obediently in his hands. But he can’t bother to actually stand on my side in public. It left a sour taste in her mouth.
 
“Can we take a scenic route?” She asked as she took position beside him. “I never get to speak to Father, and it’s my birthday, so you should listen to all my words.” Give me an underling!
 
The servant behind them bristled because she dared to tell the King what to do. His aura flickered violently. 
 
Suck it, peasant. Okay, calling people a peasant when you’re royalty and not just some common schmuck… yeah, that doesn’t feel quite right. She brushed it off quickly.
 
Amirya debated on how to say her request while she strolled next to her father. Galien’s actions perplexed her. He clearly loved Vuschia, but after her death, only sparse moments of affection sprinkled his otherwise apathetic nature towards her. The abuse from the queen and the prince were either unnoticed or disregarded. “I want to know more about my mother.”
 
Galien stayed silent and faced ahead as they walked.
 
“And I was thinking perhaps I could visit the Count of Forcrest, since it’s my maternal home. Mother grew up there, after all.” It obviously was not a coincidence that the forest near the count’s home was called ‘The Witch’s Forest’ while the illegitimate daughter of the count was a witch.
 
Galien led them to the hall next to the ballroom that hosted the débutante, but they continued straight into a private part of the palace where portraits lined the walls. They halted in front of a towering portrait hidden behind curtains. Galien pulled the rope and the curtains curled back: a young, beautiful woman smiled softly in the revealed painting with pale white skin, green hair, and vibrant pink eyes - her mother. 
 
“I’ve never seen this before,” Amirya murmured.
 
“I feared you might destroy it.”
 
She averted her eyes. Down the hall, hovered in a corner, a bright blood red spirit wisped. She was careful not to linger on it. She did not need to accidentally invite a ghost to follow her into the débutante. 
 
“Chia was kind, but only because she liked what it got her. She liked the world, the kingdom, all the different species… she saw herself in it all. She liked when people praised and adored her. Ultimately, her selfishness was a good thing. It benefited me and the kingdom. She went for what she wanted and was more merciless than any would presume. Her… magnanimous acts and sweet shell hid her less favorable traits.” 
 
Amirya stared at Galien who became lost in his reverie. 
 
He continued, “You’re just like her, but instead of silently and cunningly sabotaging the things you don’t like, you make it very loud and known. And you’re not savvy. And your possessive nature is quite apparent.”
 
Amirya squinted her eyes as she peered at him. She couldn’t even feel affronted since it was the truth, but she didn’t have the shame to feel embarrassed, either.
 
“There is no reason to go to Count Forcrest. It held nothing for your mother, and it won’t offer you anything, either. Your cousin will inherit the title soon since your uncle is in poor health. He’ll be coming to the capital to pay respects once it’s done. I’ll make sure he visits you.” Not once did her father take his eyes off the portrait.
 
Damn. Amirya didn’t push. Not right now, not when she needed something else.
 
As Galien led them back to the hall and through the back entrance of the ballroom at the top of the stairs - only royalty entered from within the palace rather than the front entrance. Amirya quickly made her second request, “Father, I need a personal knight. Or at least one who listens to my requests faithfully and confidentially.”
 
He paused. He did not look happy. “Explain.”
 
“Well…”
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