…

…

 

Commander Hale Lepidus had left the throne room with his knights, the bookkeeper, and Petra. He sent a knight away to capture the Administrator Roe, and they sent the two to prison. He fumed the entire time, thinking about the faces of the prince and queen. If they were displeased with him, his funds and special privileges at the brothels would dry up. It may even put a strain on the support for his sister’s experiments. 

 

Since when did that idiotic princess have any sense? She was nothing like her beautiful, composed mother. He called for Raven after they finished, intent to distribute punishment and release his anger, but a servant told him to report to the king.

 

He bowed as he entered the king’s chambers. Before either one spoke, Hale froze as his body heated up in stress. He felt the chokehold on his spirit. 

 

He often thought the king a fool and the true rulers of the kingdom descended from the Southern duchy - after all, if not for them, could this prince have taken the throne against his twenty-two other siblings? Against the terror king? He never personally faced Galien’s power. It was difficult to breathe. He couldn’t move.

 

Galien turned, sizing him up with a bored expression as a servant gently slid a robe over his arms and shoulders. His bright purple eyes reflected the iridescent light shining from an orb inscribed to act as a fireless lamp. 

 

It was an invention from the imperial wizard Zephyr, and it took the smallest of spirit stones to function. The king ordered several of them for the streets of the capital, and knights easily lit them. This stone had been charged by the king, who held sun energy, and it contained such a strong light that it felt dangerous. 

 

Galien not only wielded light as he pleased, but his manifestation was a negation skill. He constricted others’ use of their spiritual energy by will, forcing them to only rely on their physical body. 

 

 Even knowing this, Hale never feared, because he had confidence in his ability. Fables were born out of Galien’s numerous fights during the revolt, his skill. Hale at this time commanded the Southern Army in Duke Rivertill’s absence, who had gone to the capital to support Galien. He never saw it in direct action, either.

 

He never knew Galien could also constrict the physical body.

 

He realized swiftly that he had been arrogant. The absolute ease that Galien possessed over crippling another was frightening. Duke Rivertill had warned him, but he didn’t pay it mind. 

 

On top of constricting their ability, Galien could impose punishment. If one were to try and use their power anyways, a backlash occurred. Skills with the power to impose punishments were not unheard of - it was how Viscount Rowley climbed to the top of the queen’s subordinates - he could contract people to a binding agreement, and if they broke it, a punishment of his choice affected the other person.

 

“Stand,” Galien said without hearing Hale’s greeting. 

 

Hale stood and bowed his head, “Your Majesty, I’ve come on your order.”

 

“Did you deal with it?” Galien asked.

 

“Yes, the knights are rounding up those who gave false testimony right now. The extortionist Kayd and the forger Roe are in custody already.” Relief came over Hale at Galien’s bored and simple expression, but anxiety still pounded in his chest, because the negation still took effect. 

 

Why? He kept asking himself. 

 

The servant finished a braid on Galien’s hair and tied it neatly with a white band. The servant bowed and looked at the king, waiting for an order or dismissal, and Galien waved his hand. The servant left quietly. Galien leisurely sipped water on his table.

 

“Was it laziness or ineptitude? Your errors.” He asked without looking at him.

 

Hale swallowed, “I beg for your forgiveness, Your Majesty. I believe I was too excited to assist His Highness and overlooked a thorough investigation. I should have ensured all details were correct before presenting such a spectacle to Your Majesty.”

 

“Excitement?” Galien set the cup down and turned. He walked to Hale and stood a few inches away from him. His cold, deep eyes shined down on Hale. Hale tried to manage his shock expression but did not dare step back from the king.

 

“Tell me, is it acceptable for you to stand this close to me?” Galien asked as his voice grew deeper. “Is it acceptable if you’re excited?”

 

“No, sire.” Hale said, mind growing blank as the discomfort of being cut off from his power source seized him. It felt as though his very vitality was drained from him.

 

“Then, explain to me, my Commander of my central troops.” Galien leaned in his face. “Why did you think it acceptable to get this close to the daughter of the king?”

 

Hale had miscalculated. Personal feelings toward Amirya didn’t matter, whether she was the perfect princess or the only stain on the king’s reputation. How any royal descendant was treated reflected on the king himself. Galien was not like the prior king who saw himself separate from all other entities - the princess, and prince, were extensions of him.

 

“Your Majesty…” he started, but no excuse materialized.

 

“Not only do you embarrass my son, but you try to intimidate my daughter.” Galien said, emotion never showing on his face or in his tone. “And even more, when the knight I gave to perform one of my heir’s will came forward, you acted as though there had been insubordination. What do you think your position is?”

 

His words were icy. Dangerous.

Hale knelt quickly, bending his neck and head nearly all the way down, “Please forgive me, Your Majesty. I beg of you.”

 

“One more thing,” Galien said. He reached down and gripped Hale’s neck. The color drained from the knight’s face. “One more. One more insult and there is nothing Duke Rivertill nor the queen can do for you. I like to keep them happy. Placated. But you should remember the real master. Doing things like this is tedious. Don’t test me anymore.” He released him.

 

Hale instinctively grabbed his neck. Before he could speak, Galien dismissed him. He bowed and left quickly, his rage already returning to his heart, but Galien called his name. He stopped, turning and running cold at those eyes.

 

“Punishments given to knights following a higher command is also an act of insolence.” 

 

“I understand, Your Majesty.” Hale bowed.

 

When he returned to the Golden Knights quarters where Raven waited on his order, he dismissed him shortly and simply with the order not to speak. He soon left the palace, setting out for a brothel.

 

 

 

The queen, that night, cursed and threw objects in her room.

 

“What gave that bitch such an idea?” Corentine screamed, head throbbing. She grabbed a vase, smashing it on the ground. She let out a scream as she went to hit it with her hands, but a maid dived in front.

 

“Your Majesty, your hands! Your hands! Please hit this one instead,” she pleaded. She knew the repercussions later would be worse if she allowed the queen to injure herself.

 

Corentine backed off, glaring at the maid.

 

No, the one who needed a good beating was that princess.

 

“It must have been someone else’s idea,” her other lady in waiting, Regina, said. “The princess has no wits about her. She must not have even known who controlled her finances.”

 

“Then who? That knight?” Corentine muttered. “The one my dear husband has favored? A fucking Overyn?”

 

The Overyn Marquis family was well renowned as warriors, and the current Marquis’s sister was married to the Eastern Duke. Corentine never liked that Galien favored the third son of the Marquis as it created a connection between him and Duke Cowles. 

 

But, the relationship between the Duke and Duchess was rumored as tumultuous, at best. Corentine bit the nail on her thumb. Even still, the Marquis family, in many ways, held more power than the Duke. What was their runt doing, sniffing around the princess? Or did Galien simply order it? Since when did he show that girl affection? He never specifically assigned a knight to her, even when they first married and the old nobles still longed for the prior king.

 

Corentine fell on the bed. Regina came over and petted her hair. Corentine rolled over and placed her head in her lap - Regina, fifteen years older, often took on a comforting, older sister role for the queen as they became acquainted when Corentine was still a child. 

 

Regina, the second daughter of a notable countess, earned fame in the social circles for her etiquette and literature education. At twenty, she snagged the spot to tutor Corentine. Unlike Duke Rivertill, Regina was calm and soft. She did not hit or scold her. Corentine obsessed over her teacher, and Duke Rivertill gave little choice to Regina when it came to Corentine’s lady-in-waiting. After Regina’s fiancée died, she never engaged or had children, much to Corentine’s pleasure.

 

A servant knocked and entered the room after a maid opened the door.

 

“Get out,” Corentine growled.

 

“Your Majesty. His Majesty sent me to inform you of breakfast tomorrow.” The servant said respectfully.

 

“What?” Corentine sat up immediately, her hair tousled and make-up smudged. “Breakfast? Together?”

 

“Yes,” the servant said. He stayed still until the queen dismissed him.

 

Corentine began laughing, forgetting about her prince and the commander and their failure; her spitefulness towards the princess also set aside. “Regina, Regina,” she called, standing and fluttering to her closest, “I have to bathe tonight. We need to pick out a pleasant, sensual dress. Full of innocence. But seductive.”

 

Regina watched with resigned, sad eyes. “Yes, my queen.”

 

Regina couldn’t help but think if this woman had ever received even a drop of love from her father, mother, or brother, then she wouldn’t obsess over her disinterested husband.

 

“Ah, as always, Regina is the only one I can ever count on. That idiot Petra, how dare she fuck this up?” Corentine scowled but then relaxed her face. “And a facial treatment too. The skin should be smooth and soft.”

 

 

As soon as all the maids - anyone who would chastise him - left, Cinna bounded off his own special bed and dived into Amirya’s.

“Spoiled,” she scolded without any heat.

 

She sighed, her mind still wide awake. She took two of the sedative potions she kept locked in one of her dressers and leaned her head against the cool wood. Cinna whined from the bed, rolling over on his back and wiggling like he was uncomfortable. 

 

“Yes, yes.” She muttered. “I need to take less of them, I know.”

 

When she turned to return to her bed, the darkness from the night had permeated the room. She lifted up her hand and chanted a short spell, a small ball of light appearing. It was a tiny spell she had remembered from Elle.

 

She dismissed it. 

 

“No… I should do it like before,” she muttered. “Light.”

 

Nothing happened.

 

“Light…. Ball.”

 

Nothing, again.

 

She closed her eyes and focused on the threads and energy all around her. Like with the fire, she envisioned them coming together and transforming into something new. “Light.”

 

This time, it worked. Amirya smiled to herself and walked to her bed. The light cascaded gently over the yellow carpet and pink sheets. A short knock, quiet and quick, sounded before the knob was already turning. The princess batted away the light quickly before whoever opened the door entered.

 

“What do you think you’re doing?” She demanded, her haughty tone covering her slight prick of fear.

 

“It’s just me, Princess,” Finri said. The door clicked shut. “I wanted to check on you. Heard what happened earlier, you know.”

 

“I already bid you good night,” Amirya meant it as a warning, but it sounded tired. 

 

“And yet, here you are, not sleeping,” Finri teased, her voice much closer. The bed dipped and she finally came into view.

 

“Just admit it, you wanted us to be alone. You only pretended to leave so that the maids would.” Amirya narrowed her eyes.

 

A small orange and red little fire erupted from the tip of Finri’s index and middle finger. After a moment, she dropped her hand, but the little flame stayed. Yellows and oranges bounced off Finri’s skin and hair, giving her an ethereal glow.

 

“How did you know?” Finri asked with fake surprise.

 

“You’re so weird,” Amirya muttered.

 

“So you keep sayin.”

 

Amirya huffed and conceded. She flopped backwards and laid her head on a pillow. The potion finally started to work, she felt like her body was uncoiling from taut wires. Finri followed her movements, laying down next to her, only a foot away. Cinnamon, the failure of a beast guardian, did nothing but yawn and curl up behind Finri, closing his eyes.

 

“Lady Finri,” Amirya finally said.

 

“Hm?”

 

“You… what you said before. You must believe in devils and demons, of course.”

 

“Well, they say demons roam outta the portals, so,” there was a chuckle in her voice. “I even fought one before, in my town.”

 

“Then… do you believe in witches, too?” Amirya was careful to keep her voice light and inquisitive.

 

“Define witch,” Finri stated.

 

Amirya rolled her eyes, “Magic powers.”

 

“Ya know,” Finri popped up on her side with one elbow and rested her cheek in her hand. She made a ‘come here’ motion with her other hand, and the little fire that danced above them scooted closer. “Haven’t you ever thought magic is already here? What if people couldn’t use aura, or couldn’t sing, or paint. Then the ability to do is magic, isn’t it?”

 

Amirya rolled over on her side now, facing her. “No… supernatural powers, then.”

 

Finri shrugged, “Same difference, isn’t it?”

 

“Actually, no,” Amirya quoted the book, “Supernatural powers are powers that lie outside the rules of nature. For example, our nature is to use aura, our spiritual energy, like you are right now. I… agree it’s magical. But supernatural means power that isn’t logical.”

 

“Such a thing exists?” Finri raised her eyebrow.

“There are different types,” Amirya said.

 

“Of what?”

 

“Witches.”

 

“Are there?”

 

“Lady Finri, are you a witch?” Amirya kept her face neutral, but it quickly broke when Finri threw her head back and laughed.

 

“Oh, no, sorry, it’s not you-“ Finri wiped a tear away from one of her eyes. “That wasn’t where I thought it was going. Do you think I’m supernatural?”

 

“Maybe,” Amirya said, still glaring from Finri laughing so hard.

 

“Aw, don’t be upset.” Finri leaned closer and smiled. “Well, this body is definitely a human. But like I told you…. Maybe my power is that of a devil?” Finri casted her eyes to the side, her smile twisting into a little smirk.

 

Amirya rolled back on her back. Surprisingly, the silence that followed was comfortable.

 

I still don’t get why she would trust me with that information, Amirya mused. Powers of a…

 

Amirya sat straight up. She had forgotten so many things, but earlier, with Valer, some things returned. Including-

 

“Woah, what’s up?” Finri asked.

 

“Those aren’t demons,” she muttered in shock, to herself.

 

Zee knew about demons and devils. She met devils, fought demons. She knew, from Elle, that there was a hell dimension and a heaven dimension, but there was only one. The Queen… the things that killed her. This world, the people, they called them demons, and Amirya never questioned it. But if they’re not demons, what the hell where they?

 

“What?” Finri sat up and leaned in close.

 

Amirya turned and flinched at the close proximity. 

 

“Viscount Rowley,” she said suddenly.

 

Finri blinked a couple of times and responded, “Yeah?”

 

“’Yeah’?” Amirya said. “You’re so improper.”

 

“Ya brought up my dear adoptive father, out of quite literally, no where.” Finri looked slightly bored with the new topic in conversation.

 

“Dear?” Amirya asked.

 

Finri shrugged and shook her head as in a ‘not really’ gesture. “I thought we’d talk about that in the morning?”

 

“You know, don’t you?” Amirya pressed. “About what he does. What he’s doing.”

 

“And you do?” Finri asked.

 

“A little,” Amirya said.

 

“How so?”

 

“I’ve been looking into several things. You have, too; haven’t you?”

 

“You seem so certain.” No emotion played on Finri’s face. She kept Amirya’s gaze but gave nothing away. 

 

“You were mad.” Amirya said.

 

“Mad? When?”

 

“With Maertel. When he was bullying Felicity. He bullies her at home, doesn’t he? People act worse behind the curtains. You must have seen so, right?” Amirya explained. “That’s why you embarrassed him at the mock fight.”

 

“I think you have the wrong idea about me,” Finri said and looked away.

 

Amirya smiled, “No way.”

 

Finri face looked as if… she was pouting? Perhaps disappointed. “Well,” she said, “You’ll know me better eventually. I can see in your eyes that you’re tired. We’ll finish talking in the morning.”

 

Amirya was tired; the potions were working and she fought against them. Her mind wanted to race. It was time to deal with the viscount, but after that, she needed to learn more about witches, the demons here.

 

“Stop it.” Finri scolded and pressed her index finger against the middle of Amirya’s forehead. “I hear you thinking. Sleep.”

“Are you staying here?”

 

“Am I not allowed?”

 

“…” Amirya, as a princess, did not have sleepovers with friends like this. “As long as you’re gone before anyone comes.”

 

“Promise.”

 

“You better. Because I’ll claim I was asleep and had no idea you came in.”

 

“Do ya want me to get punished?” Finri laughed and laid down again. Amirya tucked her arm under her pillow and closed her eyes.

 

“Of course not,” she muttered.

 

Finri clicked her fingers and the flame dissipated, allowing the night to come back in and take the room. Amirya slept, but Finri stayed up a little longer. Under her breath, she muttered, “I knew it. Your mind and spirit are all scrambled up.” She sighed and rolled onto her back. She ran her fingers through Cinna’s fur, staring at the dark ceiling.