1. Cursed Nightmare

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Iftia: Royal Palace, The Queen's Bedchambers

Queen of Iftia, Silvestra •

A sudden heave caused her to jolt up from her sleep and she sat upright panting as perspiration soaked her entire back. Taking a deep inhale, the rush of air into her deflated lungs had caused her to go into a fit of coughs.

"Your Majesty."

Silvestra turned to look at her attendant, Paige. Paige had supported her up into a sitting position and handed her a glass of water. Instead of taking it from her, she had swung her hand at the glass at full rage and it shattered resoundingly upon contact to the ground. She cussed, "That son of a bitch!"

Her hands clenched angrily into tight fists as she continued to scream in frustration. "He had held onto my gift for way too long, way too long since that bitch died!"

"Your Majesty, the anger is bad for your health," Paige carefully reminded.

"Bad for health?" Silvestra scoffed. "That bitch's son being alive is detrimental to me! I can't believe that killing Valeria Gauthier is not enough!"

"Your Majesty," Paige called out to her again. "Let the dead rest."

"Never." Silvestra whipped her head around and stared at Paige. Using a cautionary tone, she warned, "Remember who you serve, Paige. You used to serve that bitch, but now, you serve me."

"Yes, Your Majesty." The attendant lowered her head to express her apology.

Silvestra moved close to her and grabbed her by her jaw. Lifting her head up, she stared right into Paige's brown eyes and reminded, "Don't forget that the one who pushed Valeria towards the gates of death was you. And you're only pardoned from the crime of treason because of me. We don't want your head to roll from the guillotine, do we?"

Fear flashed across Paige's eyes and she stammered, "I-I beg f-for mercy, Y-Your Majesty."

A satisfied smirk lifted from a corner of Silvestra's lips as she swung her hand and shoved Paige away. The attendant stumbled from the force and fell to the side, her back impacted loudly against the post of her bed. Standing up from her bed, Silvestra grabbed a silk robe from the hanger by her bed and slid it up her shoulders. Fastening the waist knot, she walked towards the fireplace in her bedchamber and asked in a low voice, "What's Matthias up to?"

"His Highness had been spending most of his time with his consort," Paige responded weakly, still recovering from the impact of her hit. "She's said to be due in the coming Summer."

"That useless child of mine," she scorned. "It still irks me that Gadiel had even approved of their marriage without going through me, but at the very least, that girl's gift would serve me well."


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Iftia: Lyx Palace, The Gallery

Rowan •

Without fail, he would find himself walking into the gallery after every single struggle through that nightmare. Walking down the dimly lit room, the paintings that hung on the wall seemed to follow him as he passed them. Each step he took stimulated his senses with the varied smell that mixed in the room: the intoxicating smell of oil paints, the piney fragrance of linseed oil and turpentine, the ashy aroma of charcoal dust and the pungent whiff of liquin.

He wasn't fond of collecting paintings, but his mother was obsessed with these beautiful things. After her passing, he had moved every single of her collection from Nvre Palace to his palace. His mother had also been a very skilful painter herself. Some of the ones hung within this gallery had been her masterpieces and he's especially fond of the one she had spent all her effort to paint him and Lyra playing in the gardens of Nvre.

Rowan continued his way down until he reached the other end of the room. Drawing the expensive red velvet curtains away, it revealed a large painting that the Royal Painter had done of his mother and sister. Mother had Lyra settled on her lap and the duo was smiling widely, looking like an exact replica of one another. Dark hair, bright blue eyes. Mother had never fancied extravagance, so she had always dressed simply. In this painting, she was clad in a plain, simple white gown with silver embroideries that matched very elegantly with his sister's pale blue gown. Even in simplicity, their beauties shone brighter than anything else.

Rowan stood in front of the painting, looking at both of them as he greeted them with a respectful nod. "Mother, Lyra."

Lifting his gaze to stare at the painting once again, he stood in silence as he felt the clench in his heart. The pain from losing them both was still raw and that intensity had never ceased since that day.

Just when he was lost in his thoughts, footsteps echoed through the gallery that caused him to turn around in alert. He caught sight of Ilias bowing towards him, "Your Highness."

"Ilias," Rowan acknowledged his presence. "I'm good. Please give me a moment of silence in here."

"As you wish." Once Ilias had confirmed that he was fine, he turned around and left the gallery. His footsteps sounded farther each time he walked away from him. When the door clicked shut, Rowan was once again the only one in the gallery again.

"Mother, I know this may not be what you wanted," Rowan mentioned, facing the lady in the painting. "But I had to make sure this blood debt is paid for. She's not going to get away with it. Not after what she did to you and Lyra."

Stepping forward once again, he lowered the velvet curtains to cover the painting and turned around to leave the gallery. Ilias had waited outside for him and at sight, Rowan asked, "Is everyone in the study?"

"Yes," Ilias responded simply.

"Let's go then," Rowan said. "The day doesn't wait."


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