As the carriage rolled on, Anneliese gazed out the window, soaking in the sights of her beloved homeland passing by. Though she rarely ventured beyond the palace walls, she cherished the rare occasions when she glimpsed the vibrant life of Bluistain's streets and its bustling populace.
As tears threatened to spill from her eyes, Anneliese found her heart heavy with grief. She glanced at her mother, curled up in a corner of the carriage, sleeping peacefully with tear tracks staining her cheeks. In that moment, Anneliese felt utterly alone. Her father was gone, Zion was gone, and Cynfael might as well have been dead to her.
She didn't got the chance to say goodbye to Caspian. Her dear friend. He's been with her since they were kids. He's the only one who treated her as a friend — not a princess. The mere thought of the crimson-eyed boy gave her comfort amidst of everything that is happening around her. Analiese's eyes dropped down to her wrist, where a silver charm bracelet with gold and rubies were. It was the birthday gift of Caspian and the only thing that she can hold on to.
Anneliese couldn't help but wonder if this overwhelming grief and pain were akin to what Caspian had experienced when he lost his sister. She could still vividly recall the shattered look on his face, the emptiness that clouded his once bright eyes. Was this the agonizing weight of losing someone dear? It was a sensation she had never encountered before, foreign and disconcerting. Yet, the raw ache in her chest left her in no doubt that it was a pain devoid of hope, consuming and relentless.
Speaking of Caspian's sister, Saoirse mentioned before that it is her — the reason why Zion died. In the vast halls of memory, Analiese could still trace the delicate contours of that fateful evening when she first encountered Serena. The debutante ball, a whirlwind of silk and music, held an unexpected treasure within its midst. Amidst the aristocratic airs and rehearsed smiles, Serena stood out like a beacon of authenticity. She was the first to extend a hand of genuine friendship to Analiese, to see beyond the titles and obligations that weighed heavy upon their shoulders.That night marked the beginning of a silent admiration that would shape Analiese's aspirations, dreaming of a day when she could call her a true friend.
Despite Analiese's pleas, the Emperor and Empress forbade any further contact with Serena. Their reasons remained a mystery, hidden behind the veil of royal decree. Still, Analiese held onto her admiration, nurturing it like a fragile flame.
That flame was extinguished the day Caspian burst into her dorm room, tears streaking down his face, clutching a letter from Serena. The contents shattered Analiese's perception of someone who once looked up to, replacing admiration with a searing mix of anger and betrayal. Serena, it seemed, was not the paragon of virtue Analiese had believed her to be.
Anneliese grappled with the incomprehensible transformation of Serena, from the loving sister of Caspian to a seemingly different person overnight. She couldn't fathom how someone who had shown such kindness could inflict pain upon her dear friend. Anneliese's resentment toward Serena deepened over time, fueled by the profound change she witnessed in Caspian. He was never the same after that night, and she held Serena responsible for his suffering.
However, when news of Serena's death spread, Anneliese found herself at odds with her own emotions. Despite feeling betrayed by Serena, she couldn't ignore the anguish that consumed Caspian. His tears and pain in the wake of Serena's death puzzled her, forcing her to confront the complexities of forgiveness and empathy amidst her own anger and grief.
Something that she could never understand. Liese was filled with anger and hatred towards her brother and she knows damn well that if he died, she's the first one to let out a laugh and a you deserve it and rot in hell.
“Liese?” As Saoirse's gentle hand landed on Analiese's shoulders, she felt a jolt, snapping her out of the dark reverie. "I'm fine," she lied, forcing a smile. Inside, a storm raged—anger, hatred, and a bitter truth she dared not confront. Instead, she asked her a question, something that has been bothering her for a quite sometime now.
“Did Zion truly love Serena, even as she was engaged to Cyn?" Analiese's voice trembled, the weight of Cyn's name heavy on her tongue. Saoirse's smile faltered, a fleeting shadow crossing her eyes before she regained composure. "Yes," she said softly, her smile masking a well of pain. "He loved her since childhood, long before our engagement." But her eyes betrayed the turmoil within, a silent testament to a love that could never be fully hers.
"Your brother sacrificed his love for that woman, all for her happiness. He gave up everything, even his own life," Saoirse said, her smile unwavering, though tears welled in her eyes. Memories of Zion flooded her mind,a bittersweet reminder of a love that transcended even death.
"He was never mine," Saoirse's words were barely audible, choked with tears that flowed unchecked. Liese watched, her heart breaking for the woman before her, her anger towards Serena festering and swelling. Without a word, she extended her arms in a silent offering of solace, and Saoirse accepted, finding a fleeting moment of comfort amidst the storm of emotions.
In Liese's embrace, Saoirse surrendered to her tears, releasing the pent-up pain and grief that consumed her. As the carriage came to a halt, signaling their arrival in Wellington, Analiese knew it marked not only the beginning of her new life in this foreign land but also the start of a journey towards healing for Saoirse, a journey they would embark on together, one tear at a time.
Clye.
"Does it still hurt?" Azrael's voice broke through the quiet of my office, his day off from training the knights making him a constant presence by my side. As he pestered me with questions, I couldn't help but find solace in his company, despite his tendency to drive me up the wall.
"Ouch!" I yelped as Azrael unexpectedly poked the burnt skin on my arm, his expression shifting to one of concern. "What was that for?" I demanded, irritation bubbling beneath the surface.
"Did I hurt you?" His worry was palpable, but I waved off his concern with a roll of my eyes, masking my true exasperation. Sometimes, I swear he's the one driving me insane.
"Don't you have anything else to do?" I quipped, hoping to redirect his attention elsewhere, but he simply shook his head, his disdain for days off evident.
"I don't understand days off," he scoffed, a sentiment I understood all too well. In a world where working every day was the norm, my introduction of a four-day workweek with three days off had been met with resistance and confusion. It was a change for them, and for me, challenging the norms of both our worlds.
Azrael rose from his seat, his restless energy evident in the way he stretched, never one to remain still for long. With a mischievous glint in his eyes, he reached over and snatched the pen from my grasp. "Get up," he commanded, his tone brooking no argument.
"You don't get to command your Duchess, Azrael," I countered, my voice dripping with authority as I refused to yield. He leaned in closer, his presence dominating my space as we locked eyes in a silent battle of wills. My pride surged like the mountains of Clye, unyielding and immovable.
"Yeah, you're the Duchess, but today you're just Rena," he retorted, a smirk playing on his lips as he remained inches from my face. Despite my intimidating gaze, he showed no signs of backing down. "Don't test me," I warned, though the effect seemed lost on him. This boy was unshakeable, a force to be reckoned with.
"Come on! You've been buried under mountains of papers for hours. You deserve a day off too!" Azrael insisted, finally relenting and stepping back. He took hold of my arm, gently but firmly, coaxing me to my feet.
"Az, I've got a ton of things to do," I protested weakly, feeling the weight of the unfinished paperwork pressing down on me. Days of unconsciousness had left me with a backlog of tasks, and I hadn't made a dent in them yet.
“You've got lots of time. Let's just go out for some time then you could go back on doing whatever those is.” He explained. Letting out a sigh, I gave up. I never really wanted to do paperwork, I mean who does? It's just I don't have a choice but to do it. “Okay, okay you win.” I said as I raised both of my hands as a sign of defeat.
"Before we go, do you think Mau can handle it for you so we can stay out longer?" Azrael queried, earning a playful punch to his stomach from me. "Let the old man rest, Az," I teased, a grin tugging at my lips.
"Is it I whom you're referring to as an old man, my lady?" a deep voice interjected from the doorway, startling me. I let out an awkward laugh as Maurice appeared, catching us in the act.
Grabbing Azrael's wrist, I made a hasty exit from the office. "Bye, Mau! See you later!" I called out over my shoulder as we dashed away, leaving behind the amused but slightly offended old man.
We raced out of the manor, the thrill of the wind whipping past us as we fled. Despite knowing Maurice wouldn't chase us, the freedom of running outside made me feel light and unburdened. The familiar chill of Clye enveloped us, and I couldn't help but smile as nearby Clyians waved at our passing.
Pausing by a nearby Cerce tree, we found ourselves near the frozen lake we frequented when we wanted to unwind. Leaning against the sturdy trunk, I gasped for breath, my hand still clasped firmly around Azrael's wrist.
"You shouldn't run so much, you're still recovering," Azrael chided gently, flicking my forehead with his free hand. With his guidance, we made our way towards the frozen lake, where benches crafted by kind Clyian men dotted the shoreline, inviting visitors to pause and enjoy the serene beauty of the surroundings.
We settled onto the nearby bench, the tranquility of the frozen lake before us, wishing we had brought along some snacks to complete the moment. "Should've brought food," Azrael whispered, echoing my own thoughts.
"Yeah, you should've planned this better," I teased, earning a playful glare from him. "How about being thankful that I rescued you from that chaos?" he retorted.
"Alright, thank you, Az," I conceded, offering him a genuine smile. To my surprise, his cheeks and ears seemed to flush pink in response, though I couldn't be certain if it was just my imagination playing tricks on me.
Adorable.
Our moment of tranquility shattered as rushing footsteps disrupted the peace. Elizor, one of our knights, came barreling towards us, gasping for breath, sword in hand.
"It's forbidden to bear arms within the town," Azrael reprimanded, but I halted his admonition, sensing urgency in Elizor's demeanor.
"Calm down, Elizor. Tell us what's happening," I urged, maintaining a calm facade despite the knot of unease tightening in my stomach. As Elizor composed himself, he relayed the unsettling news.
"There's an intruder. A local Clyian spotted someone beyond the barrier," he explained breathlessly.
My eyes widened in disbelief. How could anyone breach Aurora's Veil? Doubt crept in, questioning the efficacy of my spells. But Azrael's reassuring touch grounded me, his steady presence a source of strength.
"Tell me where they were last seen," Azrael demanded, his tone shifting to one of authority.
"Near the border," Elizor responded, prompting a decisive nod from Azrael.
"Escort the Duchess back to the manor and evacuate everyone to the mill," Azrael commanded, taking charge with practiced authority.
"No, I'll go with you," I insisted, gripping the sword at my waist, my resolve unwavering.
"You're still—" Azrael began, but I cut him off, my determination clear.
"You don't tell me what to do, General," I asserted, meeting his gaze with steely resolve. In that moment, I shed the persona of Rena, embracing my role as Duchess, protector of Clye. Recognizing the gravity of my words, Azrael acquiesced with a respectful bow.