𝕿he 𝕿hroned 𝕺ath chapter two. the princess and the bastard
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── ୨୧ ──
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Saera walked arm in arm with her dearest friend, Lady Rosella, through the blooming palace gardens. The late morning sun cast a golden hue across the hedges, and the air carried the scent of lilacs and damp stone. The two girls, so different in title and temperament, were nonetheless inseparable.
The princess had decided earlier that she wanted a bit of fresh air and company, and Rosella her most trusted friend at court had been quick to join her. They were a curious pair: one born into royalty, the other a noble daughter of a lesser house, yet drawn together by their differences.
As they wandered the winding paths, laughter bubbling between them like a brook, Rosella leaned closer, her voice dipping into a conspiratorial whisper.
"I've heard that Lady Alora is hiding a belly under her skirts," she said slyly, raising an eyebrow.
Saera let out a surprised laugh, one hand covering her mouth.
"I don't believe it. Alora can barely look a man in the eyes."
"That's how you know it's always the quiet ones," Rosella grinned.
But before they could indulge in more scandal, a voice called from behind, "Princess!"
Saera turned, her skirts swaying lightly. A guard approached, bowing low.
"Yes?" she asked, brushing a strand of red hair behind her ear.
"His Grace requests your presence," the guard informed.
Saera sighed, the brightness in her expression dimming just slightly. She turned to Rosella, who gave her a knowing nod and a gentle smile.
"Go on," Rosella said. "I'll save the rest of the gossip for when you return."
"Very well then," Saera replied with a resigned breath, and followed the guard through the stone corridors of the Red Keep.
"Where is my father?" she asked quietly as they ascended the stairs.
