Four Suits (Book 1)

Day 41-2: Coronation

DAY 41-2: CORONATION

"You're insane if you think I'm wearing those drags."

Hadey and Yana turn blind eyes to what is unfolding, dusting away at the shelves in the far corner of the room. Leda does her best to remain indifferent as well, but even as she helps organize the strewn outfits and beds, keeping her face as hidden as possible, the occurrence is impossible to block out.

As she calmly rests on her queen-sized bed, Valentina calmly receives cherries from a bowl a girl is crouched over and holding out to her. Albeit adorned in silk just as extravagant, her looks downright surpass them. Her skin is just as delicate as a porcelain doll, lips heart-shaped and pulled into a taut line. Her luminous hair cascades over her shoulders and exposed cleavage, encasing her in an air of royalty that she is.

"But Your Highness!" a courtier cries. Servants file in racks after racks of gowns, some racing to collect the uncharted amount strewn across this gigantic room. "You've said no to eighty dresses by now! The engagement party is the day after tomorrow. You can't be so nitpicky—"

"If the next dress you bring me is unworthy of my beauty I'll personally skin you all alive and feed your rotting remains to the wolves." Valentina's sharp tongue is as merciless (and grotesque?) as Leda remembers. She raises a violet brow. "Am I clear?"

"O-of course!" the courtier squeaks. "As you wish!"

He hastens towards the other servants, reprimanding them to skim through a boatload of dresses for the one that suits her most.

As the chaos continues to befall within this rather large room, Valentina draws a prolonged breath. She rests her cheek upon her chin and runs her fingers through the feathers of the crow currently perched on her shoulder. Even with a face of indifference, she glows—far brighter than any gem or star. Leda's never seen someone so beautiful.

Leda's lips press together as she surveys her silently. The chills that grace her arms throw her the wrong way. She ducks her head, shielding her face.

Valentina knows what she looks like. Even if the others don't, Leda can't hide from her. Running away isn't an option either.

Leda sneaks a glance at the doorway. She kind of went with the flow and followed Yana and Hadey here, but even if she didn't have a choice in the matter, anything would've been better than this. She hasn't even gotten the chance to figure out where Nixon is. And she's still unsure whether or not Avel's completed a cure for Ro yet. Then again, Avel may or may not be their enemy...

She shakes her head. No. Avel has to be their ally. Sure he's a little sketchy and oddly flirtatious, but he's kind. She knows it. Avel is on their side. She can't go distrusting him due to a couple of words from a maid.

Content with the newfound conviction that swells through her veins, Leda balls her fists. Yeah. She owes him so much, and can leave Ro to him for a little while longer. Besides, the most important thing to do now is ensuring she doesn't blow her cover whilst digging up any information she can concerning Nixon.

Leda's hands fall to the shelves, caressing the multiple books that occupy it. She's not surprised to find scrambled alphabet inscribed on the spines. But from what she can gather, they're history books. How Straeh came to be, various maps and locations; even a list or two about princess responsibilities and duties.

When Leda's fingers graze a picture frame, she freezes. From what she can depict, it's Valentina. She looks to be a toddler and has a smile slapped onto her face. At what is unknown, as jagged brown lines stretch down the middle of this happy-go-lucky photograph, peeling back the surface.