The War (All Chapters + Synopsis)

Chapter 24.1 - Amalia

A/N - I will repeat the trigger warning here for the sake of my readers. Reader discretion is advised. Trigger warning for mention of r*pe.

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When the sun rises I'm back in the room that I was first brought to as a prisoner. Well, guest/prisoner. Neither but both. This time however, I'm here as a guest in every sense of the word. The curtains are drawn, and the maid, Filia, is standing in the room, smiling.

"I'm glad you're alright Filia," I tell her honestly, and the woman nods at me.

"You need to get ready, his majesty is going to do another one of those parades. I heard that you're now close with the king? I assume red and gold don't bother you as much as they used to?"

"No, but if you wouldn't mind, could I do green and gold, or copper and red, or something of the sort. I want to represent Spero too."

Filia nods to my wishes and pulls me to the bathing chamber. The smell of lavender and a thousand other flowers wafts through the steamy air. I slip into the cleansing water and soak in the herbs and scents. Using a cloth and soap I clean myself off, when I'm done, I ring the little bell on the bench inside the chamber, and pull a towel around me.

Filia comes inside and takes me to the dressing room. She opens closet after closet, leafing through article, after article of clothing, until at last she pulls out black riding pants, a white undershirt, a black vest, and a green frock. The frock is made of the usual velvet, with gold buttons running down in matching columns. The collar is stiff against my neck, but not uncomfortable. The frock is embroidered in gold, the detailing elaborate and beautiful.

Filia then sits me at the makeup table, and pulls combs and brushes through my hair along with a liquid of some-sort, and my hair becomes silky smooth. With elaborate twists and flourishes, and a bit of magic, Filia makes me look like a princess. Once again she decides to do nothing to my face, saying that the bit of ambro blood I have has spared me from the usual blemishes of youth.

Sitting on my bed when I re-enter the bedroom is my sword in it's sheath. I pull it out, noticing that it's been polished and sharpened, not a single stain or piece of dried blood to be found. I loop the belt around my waist, and tie the sheath onto the belt. A pair of knee-high black riding boots are waiting by my bed, so I pull them on.

When I'm ready, I look around the room again, memorizing every detail as if it's the last time I'll see it. I wonder if Ilena's doing the same.

A knock at my door draws me from my daydreams. I walk to the door, and open it to find Lues standing awkwardly outside. The guards are nowhere to be found, and he's holding something behind his back.

"Good morning, King Lues," I greet him cheerfully, using the title we just fought to return to him.

"Good morning, Amalia Crestman, I brought this for you," Lues pulls the item from behind his back, and passes it too me.

It's my leather-bound diary, the one I left behind when they took me in a cage to Moor. I take it from him, likely blushing profusely. "Did you read it?"

"No, I realized that we brought your stuff with us when we captured you, I found this and thought you might want it," Lues explains, he looks a bit nervous. "My mother always told me to never look in someone's diary without permission."

"Well, your mother sounds like a smart woman," I respond.

"She was that, but not the kindest," Lues admits.