Chapter 2: The Endings of a Royal
"Mom, how did the girl know that he was the prince?" the little girl clamored onto her mother's lap as the woman scooped her little girl up "Ophelia when someone loves you. They don't have to say it, my little princess. You will know from the way they look at you".
Days were spent, as the naive little princess sat with her red swollen knees pulled up to her heaving chest. Her small hands clasping over her mouth, a poor attempt to fend off the sound of her quivers and cries as horrifying as it was she couldn't find it in herself to look away.
The soft white skin of her mother that Ophelia loved was spotted with shades of purple and blue like the fairies in her picture books but it didn't look quite as lovely as them. She hadn't understood what was going on then, nor of the terrors, her mother had shielded her from as she cried at her funeral.
Time was cruel as it did not wait for her or anyone else, the princess grew older as the seasons changed. Despite the passing years, Ophelia would still find traces of the sweet rosy scent of her mother in the wind and the touch of her soft hands lingering on her shoulders under the summer sky.
However, the meanings of her mother's words were still a mystery to her...
that is until he came along.
She finally came to understand those poems like words that her mother had said. The besotted feeling of thinking one could not be more in love than one is now, and yet one knows, will tomorrow. She had made a wish, not for peace nor her father's throne that carried the weight of the people but for him. For the chance to feel his arms holding her tightly at twilight when the dark is too much for her to bear and for him to be the only thing real when nothing else around her is.
The sky was already painted yellow and orange when she finally decided to step out of the only safe haven she knew. The gilded princess is covered with the finest gold and jewelry but is merely a trinket the emperor owns, a priceless souvenir left behind by the late empress.
The winds were relentless, rustling her frocks and teasing the hems of her skirt. Her handkerchief which she had made sure was tucked securely in the bands of her skirt blew away with the wind. Her short hair flurried in the breeze as she reached out to grab hold of the piece of fabric which was drifting away when a calloused hand reached out, stopping her. "Ophelia".
It's funny how easily fear can be washed away by someone.
Duke Arius Alderidge, her husband, offered her a small tight-lipped smile, "It's gone, Ophelia".
"But that was a gift from you.." She drifted off, biting her chapped lips as she watched the wind carry it over the sharp spikes of the palace gates. She shivered under the strong gusts of wind as he released her trembling figure. Arius narrowed his ocean-blue eyes at her before continuing on his way without sparing her another word. She hesitantly called out to him "Are you free? Maybe we can spend the afternoon together? I can get the servants to prepare some of your favorite tea leaves and-"
The duke stopped but did not turn to face her "I have someplace else to be at the moment." His cold voice left no room for arguments as she had no choice but to let him go. She should not have expected much yet her heart still yearns for the love he had once given her. How they would ride out into the open hills and stay out till the sky turned cold and dark. The soft yet heated feeling of his lips pressed upon hers as his hands would caress her, wrapping her in the safety of his arms. She could still remember the pair of eyes that would look earnestly at her as he begs her not to go when her father summons her or the times when he would stubbornly wait for her in front of the chancellor's office.
The wind ceased as she retreated back into her chambers. The servants once again, forgetting to draw up the curtains, encasing the room in total darkness. Her hands move to tie the golden ropes of the curtains, allowing what's left of the light to stream into the room. She paused as she looked outside, her hands lightly pressing onto the cold glass window that oversees the garden below.
A scene she was very much familiar with, often portrayed in the fairytales her mother had read her. The beautiful golden hair protagonist was loved and cherished by her prince, as he tucked a chrysanthemum in her hair, his fingers weaving through her pretty locks and his eyes gleaming full of love for her.
The only flaw in this fairytale however lies in the fact that she was not the protagonist of this tale.
She, who received the arms Ophelia wanted to be wrapped up in. The eyes she wanted to get lost in and the smile that was once hers. Her husband knew the wound he would inflict would last longer than any yet it didn't stop him from loving another. Ophelia was left to wonder whether her heart would at least be spared if she had caved into the darkness of ignorance of the moment.
***
Evening approached as the palace halls were filled with nobles and envoys from many different empires. Paintings of creatures alike were hung and overlooked the guests as they wandered about the beautifully garnished halls. Although her father, the Emperor had thrown her to the depths of the abandoned and cracked palace. Her presence during these banquets was still required. Servants would be assigned to her on the day of the festivity, dressing her in meticulous frills and laces, hiding her skin and bones behind layers and layers of silk and diamonds.
As she arrived at the banquet, her presence was announced and as usual her eyes would scan the crowd present in the vast hall for any signs of her husband, and as always... not a trace of him was found. Aristocrats and envoys in turn came up to greet the princess. As the representative of the empire, she did her part, engaging in their meaningless talk. As the royal musicians started to strike up the first familiar notes of a waltz, she looked around her heart still unconsciously giving her hope of his arrival.
The entry doors for the royal family suddenly slammed open, the noise echoing through the boundless room. Ophelia's breath hitched as she stared at the powerful figure looming on the balcony.
"Father."
His eyes landed on her, a smile appearing on his red obviously intoxicated face. "Ophelia! My child. Come!'' His words were slightly slurred but not enough for people to notice. She glanced around, noticing the aristocrats starting to exchange glances and hushed talks amongst themselves. Not wanting any more attention drawn to her, she took shaky steps up the carpeted staircase. It was not her father who she saw at the top of these steps but a monster who had brutally eaten away what was left of her mother.
"I greet the sun of the Parphilia Empire." She tried her best to keep her voice from shaking as her father let out a full belly laugh, his hands harshly gripping her pale face.
"How could I not realize how similar those eyes were to that cunning woman". Her body trembled but she could not decide whether it was out of fear or anger for the monster in front of her.
The man shoved the princess toward one of his most ruthless guards, someone who in her opinion did not deserve to be called even the title of a knight for his cold-blooded and crude murderous ways. "Father!" She called out in shock. The insane emperor placed one of his thick fingers onto her smudged lips "Patience my beloved daughter, tonight's main attraction is you after all".
By this point, the guests had noticed something was wrong as the banquet hall went still and silent. The air suffocated her as the so-called long-awaited time came to an end. The doors to the hall were pushed open, the sound cutting through the silence as it revealed him.
Duke Arius, his face stoic but from years of admiring him she realized immediately that he was pissed. He took step by step closer to the balcony, closer to her. She bit back the urge to stop him, to wrap her arms around his torso, to apologize for being a hindrance, anything to rid him of that look on his face.
"Arius" As soon as his name left her lips, the said man trained his eyes on her. Those lovely blue eyes that once looked at her with affection were now dull and void. His footsteps echoed through the brightly lit halls and passed through the frozen nobles, as he stood expectantly in front of the emperor and gave his greetings. "Release her."
Ophelia was heaved by her father's knight and dangled above the plight of stairs, the sound of his sharp blade being withdrawn from a leather scabbard. Before she could react, the sword was already pointed at her.
"Of course, I couldn't deny the request of the empire's duke, however-" the emperor carried on "you are asking the wrong question... The better question is which one?"
The gleam in her father's eyes was one you would find in a deranged person. Ophelia's eyes did not stay on her husband but rather on the woman that was just brought out across from her. Her husband's mistress. The stunning petite girl with long golden locks and shimmering citrine eyes. Arius's eyes flickered between the pair, for once a gleam of hesitancy showing in his eyes. Ophelia stopped struggling, as her eyes landed on her beloved.
The hand that was held out… it was never to her, was it.
Under the twilight, the people with their masks on, using words as their most vicious weapons. It was a civil war zone for aristocrats. Those pair of calloused hands that were held out to her on the night of her debutante... was it ever to a girl named Ophelia or was it merely a courtesy to the princess of the empire.
The things she had sacrificed to receive the affection of this man. The only hand that was held out to her when no one else offered. The only warmth she had craved and received since the death of her mother. What no one had told this naive princess was the cost of it all.
***
The clock had chimed the hour, and she knew he had made his choice.
It had all been just a twisted deception. A kiss of Judas is what she had lived. Ophelia let out a hoarse cry as Arius took a step further away from her. Her soul felt wafer-thin. Her body trembled and chilled as she accepted his hand.
The sound of her father's chuckles was the only thing she could hear before feeling the rough piece of metal press deeply into her flesh, the sharp blade piercing inside her. Remarkably, the pain of the sword was something she could bear yet the pain inside was something only a lover such as him could cause.
With the last of her strength, she mustered the energy to look at him. One arm wrapped tightly around her waist and the other caressed her head. His eyes avoided her gaze till the last second as she welcomed the darkness with open arms, having no one to say goodbye to even in the last moments of her life. Her body felt heavy as it collided with the floor, earning screams and shrieks of horror from the people around her. In the end, she was not the girl he had fallen in love with nor was she the one he had chosen. A small regret crossed her mind as the dark void slowly enveloped her.
How she wished she could have just one last dance with him when she had the chance.
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone