The Guests I

Azure's POV

"The Cynthias?"

They are fine delegates of the Rochileu commerce commission, which, by now has been requesting their position as an imperial trading agency.

The Cynthias are composed of many traditional arts and they hold great legacies reasoned with fixed efforts that made Rochileu the golden spectrum of Whereana.

They are good at what they do and they would do well to keep their stakes high to go along with the criticism received from other noble houses.

"Is that so. Something must be off then." I closed the book stroking it's leather cover, distracting my mind at ease.

"Your highness, this letter is from one of the most influential figures in the capital. Refusing them might be a mistaken decision." Lance sat down crossing his legs flinging the letter around unamused of the situation.

At first, I thought that must be some kind of joke. Given the reason that their family answers to the Queen. Knowing them, It's most likely to be a diplomatic call. But at the situation now, I doubt they are clueless, so I could only imagine the outcome.

I stood up. The golden vases and legend etched trinkets gave the atmosphere quite the warmth then I looked closer into fire. The crackles and the scorched waltzing flame made my head twirl in past memories long I've thought and forgotten.

Rochileu isn't in a fair state right now. Local nobilities are being aggressive towards one another diplomatically. Since House Cynthia is the most influential noble house, it may cause an even louder uproar.

Given that they requested me for an audience, I cannot see how that decision would do them value. Seeking for my presence rather than my father or the queen is very curious. But I could also expect that they've already done either and I could've known least about it. They're not baseless of all people.

"So what do you plan to do your grace?" He asked.

Calmly, I fixed my sapphire eyes at him and a gust of uncertainty escaped my mouth.

"I'll just have to accept." I said.

Silence and surprise. A small gust flew through the large window. Midnight like my lockes, it was late.

The moon and it's peers swarmed the nightscape as the light pierced over the black trench. It was cold, despite the fire. I could feel a stare, Lance was worried but knew well what I saw.

"You're not worried? Nor flustered about this?" He asks watching the fire.

"What am I suppose to be unstable about. They could not bare a hand on me nor they could speak daggers over my skin." I replied.

"You are their easiest one to gain favour. They know history. Obviously, they know about the kind of story you and their mistress have played." Lance said.

"..."

"Lance, it was a very long time ago. I could expect them using it as a weapon but they won't break me." I groaned.

"If I say I trust you, will you believe me?" He asked.

"If I said no, would you?" I answered.

"I couldn't bear the will of his majesty losing trust in me. So I would always know that that quote is forever a lie." I could hear the happiness compassion his voice.

From the back of my head, I could hear his footsteps moving closer. With his hand on my shoulder, he gave me the ribbon sealed paper. It's canvas seen ripped and the ink splattered chaotically as if the writer rushed the message.

I took off the ribbon. Facing Lance, I grimaced at the sight of his concern.

"Leave me be." I replied.

With quick reflexes, Lance backed off. The tall man paused at the doorknob, tickled maybe by the scene of the fire going out of steam, the shadows creeped to each corners of the room, leaving me midst the tainted shallow ambience.

"Good night your grace." Quietly, Lance closed the door.

With the night coming to a close and the oil lamps losing their kindle, I decided to call it a day and sat on my bed near the window overlooking the castle's courtyard.

The soft candle ablaze and the letter by my hand, I scanned through the rigidly, almost illegible message.

It was short and they went straight to their point. It is about the same dispute, they wish to speak to me...why? I'm not the first in line for the command and telling me their statement would be useless.

What's their goal with me?

The haziness drew closer and eventually I decided to take my slumber. I didn't know what time it was but I'm sure it was already past the usual time.

( Morning At The Imperial Palace )

In my office, I studied the usual political regime. My adviser, Lance...even though he was my age, he was surprisingly wise but-

"Your grace! Can I leave now? The outside looks marvelous today." He's obnoxiously loud and on the prowl to keep me away from my tasks.

On some occasions he whined childishly, groping my senses to the edge that I give in and leave my schedule astray.

"You were so firm last night and now you take the situation light headedly as if it's nothing but feather on a quick summer breeze!" I massaged my temples. Recompose in grandeur then to turn back onto my studies.

"It's better to brush of the felt anxiety of the letter, maybe they really just want to speak with you. Your status will be dear to their proposal to his majesty if ever you'll agree to their presentation." Lance beamed.

"They answer to the Queen. Not our court. Though yes, Rochileu is our homeland kingdom...I can't just-Well-"

"Your grace, it's true that they answer solely to the Queen. I'm sure they know as much, they will come here with thoughts clearheaded with a thorough explanation. Give time and you will know what they're planning eventually." Lance laid down lazily on the couch.

"Leave it for a while and try to enjoy anything else rather than your paranoia trust me and have you already written a reply?" He added.

He hummed a happy melody, whistling midway of the verses from a song popularized by drunk bards threading around from tavern to tavern.

"I haven't started anything. I will but I'll distract myself from that thought for a while." I replied drawing deeper into the book's contents.

"I could just write a letter while you are polishing that political literacy. It will be just your reassurance that you want to meet them or no." He teased.

"I already said it last night that I will meet them. Quite sure that my parents already know they are paying our castle a visit."

A tingle in my stomach then a growl and a belch. I haven't eaten my breakfast yet...I must've been out of space when I woke up this morning.

The castle delicacy is a treat of rarity and luxury. Although efforts as much, I happened to skip my breakfast when I found out that my teacher had already prepared for the morning class. I had no good options but to move forward with my study.

"Hungry much your grace?" Lance dangled, teasing me with a bundle of grapes. It swung between my vision.

I laid out my palm. He played nastily as to retreat the grapes and twirled it. To his force, some of the fruit fell on the gold laced carpets and some on the marble floor.

I was too famished to fight I laid bear sitting infront of the window overseeing a small scene of the castle gardens.

The adviser just organized a tray of fruit for his majesty. He smiled, but the smile felt chained through the weight in his chest worried for his highness.

He has not seen the Cynthias in closed corners for a while so the adviser tried everything to distract his majesty.

"Some fruit your grace." He says as he left an assortment beside me.

I will have to write that letter soon. If possible now. Keeping myself bothered by such and acting indecisively would only worsen my dilemma. I grabbed a plump vivid red apple and started to feed.

The scent of fresh fruit and the sweet juice inside the yield made my ears numb in ease. Even for the delight, I know this much won't make up for an early meal.

The meal of royalty must always be minimum and maximum. The diet of the emperor and the empress are well overlooked and each drop of wine are kept as record bases for medical descriptions and status.

My breakfast will consist of flavoured bread, carefully picked fresh fruits and vegetables with the typical salmon or steak and plain water to go down with desert if wanted.

"Starting to go a little stale." I said staring at the apple.

"I'll go fetch a new batch if you would like me to my Lord." Lance quickly retrieved the tray and firmly, he stood waiting for my command.

I know Lance is a dynamic of playful, yellow and loyal. A noble himself, of course, he must be or else he wouldn't be here.

His detailed amber lockes and sunrise gold eyes all the way from the bottom, filled to the brim with formals and garments worth nine gold pieces...His Lavishness is all thanks to the imperial name.

I chewed on my apple, still sweet to the core. I continued to feed a few more seconds before giving my order.

"I'll soon write my reply. Fetch me a new bottle of ink while you find your way to the kitchen." I said standing up.

The adviser bowed and had his fulfilled duties replaced temporarily by something so shallow deserving not of an adviser but a butler. I know that much but even so, he never objects...he doesn't have to.

I sat to my desk. With spare blank papers alined, I began to think of a simple reply for the Cynthias.

Even for an imperial body, it's still difficult to write a pretty good reply let alone a good statement and as someone who only rejects invitations, this might be a first. With the spare ink left, I dabbed the quill pen and began writing a draft.

"Your highness?" A woman's voice came after the knock.

"Who is it?" I asked not intending to show any familiarity nor socials on the woman.

"A message from the emperor your majesty." Said the servant.

Father? What does he want now?

"Enter." I replied dropping my quill and guard as though my anchor.

"This letter was written not too long in the office. He wishes for you to scan it completely with your most viscous analogy and understanding." The brown haired woman laid out a small brown envelope.

"Is that all Ma'am?"

"Yes your grace. If you'll excuse me..."

She's gone.

Leaving the reply passively. I decided to scan my father's message. His nature aside, he has one of the best handwriting in the family with my mother ranking the lowest.

I unfolded the paper and began to read.

"What why?!"

"Y-Y-Your grace are you alright?" Lance flinched before me. The inkbottle he carried shattered on the floor leaving a huge splatter of black in the hallway.

"This must be a sort of jest my father is planning" yet again, my father in all of his time and reputation doesn't even have a funny bone nor laughed at any stage play.

To my confusion, I paid no attention to the ink scattered on my cheeks. Keeping my balance, I composed myself.

Father makes decisions for the benefit of him, if this is what he thinks good for his means, then I'm certain he knows what he will do to manipulate the situation to his favour and win over the affairs.

"Your majesty, do you wish to clean up first before you continue?" Lance asked nervously smiling.

Seeing as how I scared the surrounding household I took a firm breath and stared softly at the servants in the hallway.

"I'm fine. I was merely shocked of some sorts. Please there's no need to worry about and continue your duties well." Winning over themz they all blushed and smiled.

They knew what they wanted and needed to do. I'm anticipating a mop and some faint scent of soap and oak gall later after a few hours.

Lance polished some of his trousers and his shoes. Those pair was custom made, and the ink's texture is a difficult to remove. I should apologize for ruining those shoes, it was even a gift from his parents not too long ago.

"What was it even that you were surprised about?" Lance asked.

"Foremost before I tell you. I'm sorry that I surprised everyone in the radius and about your footwear..." I frowned and a weight of heavy guilt started to thump like a blacksmith's hammer.

"Your majesty, it's not a big deal. I'll just get it done and have it cleaned by our laundry." He smiled.

"Even though, if the maids won't be careful enough. They might even damage the leather." I frowned looking at the black tainted umber shoes.

"Your majesty, I'm sure there's a potion or a magic of sorts that can remove the ink. Everything is convenient nowadays, so we might even find a cleaning shoe potion." He joked.

"Your imaginations run too far much." Softly I smiled back.

"Now about the topic earlier..."

"Ahh yes...Father said he wanted to-"

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