For nearly twelve years, Zora had worn the flimsy velvet mask over the left side of her face, never daring to slip it off. She was embarrassed by the scars. They were ugly and not pretty in even the slightest. The closed wounds weren't red now, but thick and pale.
But when Zora left her bedchambers, the mask remained on her vanity, untouched.
After so many years, the palace staff had become accustomed to seeing the black mask, so when Zora passed them, they weren't quite prepared for the sight. A butler gasped and dropped the tray of food he'd been carrying. A new maidservant fainted. Marx, still as short as a nightstand, blanched and dabbed his forehead with a handkerchief.
Zora arched an eyebrow, daring anyone to speak up. None did. She hummed a lively tune as she arrived at the grand staircase.
Oh, her mother would be in for a surprise.
She scanned her surroundings for any prying eyes. Once she'd deemed it safe, she gathered her skirts up, planted her bottom onto the banister, and slid down with an elated cry.
By miscalculation, she slid off a little too early and bumped into a centuries old vase. It hit the carpet with a thud. Zora held her breath, waiting for the porcelain to shatter into thousands of tiny pieces, but it remained intact. Gingerly, she retrieved it and returned it to its rightful display.
There was slow, sarcastic clapping from behind her. "Sestra, I see you still your clumsy antics have not ceased during the time I was away."
Zora's eye widened, and with a squeal of joy, she leaped into her brother's arms.
She'd grown heavier since he last saw her, and instead of swinging her around like he used to, Pyter lost his balance and fell. Her hands flew to her mouth. "Oh my gods, I hope no one saw that! They would kill me!"
Pyter laughed good-naturedly, rubbing the back of his head. "You're so big now," he said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Three years is a long time. I think you were up to my shoulders last time! I also notice you're not wearing your mask." His fingers traced the puckered lines.
She helped him back up, brushing off the front of her dress. "They're finally letting Mother out. Today is the first day she will leave her room in nearly twelve years."
"Why though?" he pressed. "One would think you'd want to go about unnoticed."
"Ha! I want dear Mother to see my scars, to feel the guilt of knowing it was she who'd give me them. I am not afraid to show myself. If anything, it will keep away any unwanted suitors.
"How was your stay in Santica? Did they treat you okay? Of course they did. You're our heir."
At this, Pyter's smile faded. "That's another thing I need to tell you. Father deems me unfit to rule the throne."
"What?" exclaimed Zora, dropping his hand. "But you're absolutely perfect! You're so kind. Etharia needs a ruler like you!"
Pyter shook his head, allowing dark locks to shield his eyes. "Father believes I'm too kind, sestra. He worries that I will not have the iron fist he has." Lowering his voice, he whispered, "Furthermore, he doesn't want me to change the laws regarding women."
Zora's face fell. All those times Pyter had claimed he'd change Etharia for the better...would they never come true? "But if you aren't crowned King, then who will be?" She already knew the answer.
"Gregori will. He's the next best choice. I don't like the idea. Gregori is simple minded and easily manipulated. Even if he becomes King, Father will remain behind the scenes. He will be the puppeteer playing with Gregori's strings."
"Blazing stars," hissed Zora, balling her hands into fists. "How dare he! You are our firstborn prince. Under no circumstances besides death should you be replaced!" She wanted to storm into the throne room and wring the bastard pig by the neck.
Pyter caught sight of the murderous look on her face and shook his head. "What's done is done. Now, didn't say you were going to visit our dear mother?"
Estilda gazed blankly out the window and didn't even turn to greet her two children, whom she hadn't seen in over a decade. Zora frowned and rapped on the door sharply.
"Hello? Mother?" she called. Estilda rocked back and forth in her chair, her eyebrows knitting together in confusion.
"The birds aren't chirping," she murmured. "I think the snow has fallen on them?"
"Estilda," said Pyter. "Please, look at us." Upon hearing Pyter's voice, she turned and immediately grinned.
"Zora, sweetheart, your scars are absolutely horrendous. I hope they weren't too painful, but they are ugly enough for those bad noblemen to stay away from you."
Zora blinked in astonishment. Had she not felt Pyter's soothing hand at the small of her back, she might have slapped the woman, mother or not. "Are you mad?" The words were blurted before she could stop them.
She'd expected her mother to be enraged. Instead, the aging woman only glanced at her fidgeting hands. "So I am," she whispered. "I suppose you are not grateful. That is to be expected, dorogaya. I'd hoped you would see my good intentions, but alas, they locked me away before I could convince you."
"Don't call me that," Zora cut in harshly. "And serves you right. How could you do that to me? I was blazing four, mother. Four, and you decided to rake out my eye. I don't give a damn about whatever nonsense you thought you were going to achieve."
Estilda was still a Queen. She could punish Zora right then and there, but she chose to play with the tassels of a small pillow. She remained silent. Frustrated, Zora ground her teeth.
"Pyter, let's go. I'm sick of her." Zora stalked out of the room. Pyter grimaced. He looked back and forth between his mother and his sister, inner turmoil raging within him.
As Estilda refused to meet his gaze, he let the doors fall shut with a bang.
Just outside Estilda's window, a raven cawed, its intelligent eyes glistening.
finally. chapter eight. yipeeeee! so so so sorry for the long wait guys! but here's the (hopefully) long-awaited chapter. i have finally wrapped up little Zora and introduced current, teenage Zora!
what are your thoughts?
Discussion Questions: What do you think will happen to Etharia with Gregori on the throne?
Does that raven outside Queen Estilda's window mean anything?
note: originally, Estilda was supposed to be the fourth queen, but then i realized if pyter is the oldest heir, he should be born earlier, so now she's the first queen XD i don't know if i added this somewhere but pyter is currently twenty-six right now, so he was about fourteen in previous chapters. idk this whole thing is so messed up XDD