𝐂𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐃│✔

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟑𝟎

Pandora

♡

"That night, the skies became clear of clouds and stars, only the deepest black spreading upon the mortal lands and raining down upon us. They say that it was the blood of the Sororis Lunae that she killed."

"Does it have anything to do with those of House Asra having black ichor?" I ask, far too immersed in Esmée's storytelling to straighten my back despite the slight ache feeling like a dull sting in my lower abdomen.

"Yep." She nods, taking another bite of the amuse-bouches delivered to us half an hour ago. I would've enjoyed the délices of warm pastries with her, wasn't it for them to have olives on them. Mother's way of controlling what goes into my stomach, again.

I despise olives.

"Why do you think they can't live in the sunlight? Chantara felt that they should be punished too, as descendants of her runaway brother."

"But, that makes no sense!" I protest before leaning back against the wooden headboard. "They had nothing to do with any of it, why should they be punished for something beyond their Realm?"

"That, my dear, is a question even we have yet to answer."

A knock on the door interrupts our chatting, Esmée stands up to open the door while I groan when I notice the sun has set, meaning that I have to start preparing for diner.

"Your Grace," three familiar faces softly speak from the font door when they see me. "Her Ladyship has send us to be of your assistance."

"Of course she did." I stand up from the sofa, waving goodbye to Esmée who looks confused when another set of maids walk into the room at the same time that I leave.

"Have fun," she sarcastically jokes when her maids bring in bathing supplies for her.

"You too." I'm about to enter my guest room, when the maids stand in front of the door, blocking my entrance.

"Excuse us, Your Grace but all your dresses are still in your personal chambers. We have prepared a bath for you there."

"Has Mother set you up to this,"I ask knowing very well that this is all her way of showing that she still has the last say here, even when I'm no longer an accepted member of their family. I still have to abide by their say.

"Fine." I give in, far too tired from today's journey to play around with Mother's inferiority complex. The smile on their faces when I obediently lead the way to my old chambers tell me that they think I give in and shall obediently follow their every say.

No way that'll happen again.

Just like they promised, a warm bath is drawn when I arrive. The clouds of steam making the mirrors foggy, filling the room with a soft scent of spices. I strip naked to sit in the bathtub, ignoring the stares I get. Enjoying how the hairs on my arms stand up at the warm water engulfing me. 

The maids don't lose another second, immediately getting started with the shampoos and scented oils, scrubbing me clean until every speck of dirt is gone. An hour and many painful minutes later of them using honey to wax my legs and arms, applying a layer of full face makeup. I'm sitting on the bed as they pick out the dress mother most likely chose. Just as they turn to me to ask me to stand up, I stop them with my hand.

"I'll chose the dress I'll be wearing tonight, you may go." They thought I was going to let them have their way with me, and they're adorably wrong.

"But, Your Grace!" The one that has been leading the two others this entire time finally speaks up, her eyebrows furrowed in annoyance. It must've been so hard on her, having to pretend to be obedient to me this entire time. 

Me, the Princess all of them know is a powerless puppet following her Father orders, who has no influence on her own Clan, and more importantly, who is now also reputed to be a traitor who ruined an alliance with the rich Feather Clan by running away to the Dynastra Capital. I don't react at her outburst, but instead smile standing up.

"I didn't know Mother trained you to speak up to her." Slowly, I walk towards her, my other half showing them a smile that promises to taste blood.

"But then again," I continue, ignoring their whimpers when I take the dress Mother chose for me from her hands, and slowly rip it into two, "I shouldn't expect respect from the same maids who go around whispering to everyone how many men come and go into my room at night." I drop the two pieces of cloth, their faces trenchant, telling me that they understand what I'm pointing at. It's a good thing rumours are meant to circulate around, otherwise I'd never know that the guards who regularly came to force themselves upon me were mistaken for my lovers.

"Leave."

And without losing another second, they hurry out of my chambers, finally leaving me to myself.

"Alright then," I tell myself after taking the time to recapitulate what I just did, "Let's see." Going through dress after the other, I'm disappointed to see that they all are more or less the same. 

Overly garnished. 

Heavy. 

Covering.

 After I go through my entire closet and still can't find anything that would help with my miserably put-together plan, I whip my head towards the chest at the foot of my bed. About a year ago, when my closet was reloaded with new dresses and clothes, a couple of 'inadequate' attires were smuggled in by the daughter of the Minister of Finance living at the Palace, and somehow ended in my closet. 

I didn't think twice to hide them from Mother the moment I saw them, knowing that she would have burned them if not keeping them for herself. Opening the chest, a devilish smirk rugs at the corners of my lips, and the delightful foreshadowing of my parents reaction makes tying the laces at the back of it all the more exciting.

Red is considered an improper colour to wear during any official events as it's popular amongst sex workers and lower ranked mistresses. Somewhere in my Ethics book, I recall it saying something between the lines of: "It is in a male's nature to hunt and chase, it's hence important for a female to dress properly or else she'll be regarded to them as an opportunity to be pounced on."

Make it make sense.

Regardless, the tight red gown is everything I would ever want it to be. The long sleeves cover my scars, the silky material covering my chest leaves only my shoulders and collarbone for all to admire. The long slit adding allure to every step I take when walking down the halls. Everyone has already left for diner accompanied by their maids, and I'm alone when I direct myself towards the overloaded dining hall.

 A smirk making way when the guards at the door lose posture when seeing me. And I wink invitingly at the one of the two who has already seen the natural tone of my golden skin hiding under the usual worn pale foundation. 

A silent promise to pick up the debt he owns me. The tightening sensations at the tip of my fingertips making me crave for his heart. Both of my hands lay flat against the oaken French door, and I pause for a second, long enough for my consciousness to seep through the pretended confidence. After this, no amount of begging would make my family take me back after the shame I'm about to put them through.

But, do I want them back?

Even if I end up on the streets, rejected by those who're offering me a temporary home. After the Salavars have been taken care and I have no reason to stay with the King anymore.

When I'll truly be alone, with no purpose. Will I ever be willingly coming back here? No, never.

I'll have to bet on it then, I decide as I push the doors open, the chatting engulfing me in a freezing hug as I step inside.