Reign and Rivers

v. The Sister

Solar - sitting room

~~~

"You pòrna!"

Lysandra stopped in her tracks outside the West Wing Royal solar of the castle. That had been Queen Priscilla's voice, without a doubt. Lysandra wondered who was being called a whore by her step-mother in the middle of the night if she was here. 

Pressing closer to the wall, she inclined her head to the door.

"You—you've completely ruined my dress!" Priscilla raged on. "Who do you think you are, gallivanting around a Royal solar like this?" 

There was a moment of silence, before a startled voice answered. "I'm Amara."

An amused look overcame Lysandra's face, before she decided that this would be a good time for her entrance. Wiping her face clean of any emotions, she walked into the room.

Out of all the solars in the castle of Thessalia, the West Wing solar continued to remain Lysandra's favorite. She thought it was the least aggressive in it's splendour, compared to the other solars. But, there was a reason behind it, as well.

The West Wing was reserved just for the Royal family of Thessalia. The other royals and dignitaries would reside in the North Wing. The East Wing consisted of ballrooms and dining rooms that were beautiful beyond reason. The humble South Wing was home to the kitchens and the servants' quarters.  

And in the centre of it all, lied the Throne Room. 

The room where Lysandra spent most of her time in. At least, when she was at the capital. 

Of course, no one knew about that, since, according to her father, women had no place in the Throne Room.

When she had been 11 years old, Lysandra had tried entering the Throne Room twice, and she was escorted out both times. Her step-brother, Demetrios, who was 13 then, had taunted her for days about it.

"You should stick to plucking flowers, don't you think? That's all princesses ever do anyway," He had said.

Next morning, he'd woken on a bed of roses, the thorns pricking into his skin everytime he moved.

There had been no proof that Lysandra was behind it, but she had still been punished, (Queen Priscilla had announced her as Demetrios' servant for a day). But, even the punishment had been worth it, when she recalled how he had bawled like a baby.

Prince Demetrios never underestimated her after that.

Lysandra wondered now, why his mother was so keen on doing the opposite, as she took in the scene before her.

Queen Priscilla was surrounded by two maids trying to lessen the stain on her dress. It was a huge, red spot near the knees.

Lysandra thought it matched the theme of the room very well.

Her gaze turned to the figure on the ground, a goblet near her feet. The girl seemed around Olympia's age, maybe older. She was dressed in a maid's dress, one not suited to her stature. But she didn't seem to care as she glared at the Queen of Thessalia.

The drunk Queen of Thessalia, Lysandra corrected herself, as a few more empty wine goblets became visible.

The Royal Family of Tibur and other guests had arrived yesterday, but Lysandra hadn't been there to welcome them, (for once, she was grateful for the illogical traditions that barred her from meeting the groom and his family before the wedding). But, looking at the girl on the ground, Lysandra knew in a second who she was. Her honey brown eyes were annoyingly familiar.