Shadow of the Prince

Two Drops

With each step, Dal took in a new breath of air. Wholly unique. Completely altered. The leaves shifted colors, the same and not so, and the scent of the Earth changed just a hair. 

If she was going to accomplish her task, she needed to be untouchable.

Dark, ebony hair, long to her waist. Pale, white skin that shimmered like moonlight. Gentle eyes that held wisdom and elegance. And command.

As she passed a noble's tent, she grabbed a purple velvet cape that had been left outside and twisted it over her body to cover her plain blue frock. She pulled the hood just over her head, enough to shield her face. Her dress was fine for the role she played earlier - the small, meek female apprentice. She was playing an entirely different role, now.

When Dal came upon the Princess' large, canopied tent, the two guards at the entrance stood up straighter, surprise alight in their eyes. 

"I wish an audience with Princess Aramaia," a cool, foreign voice emanated with a poised fierceness, not too unlike her own.

"One moment, Queen Estoria," The guard on the right disappeared into the tent, leaving the other staring opening at her, his gaze finally flicking past her. But, she couldn't blame him. If she had the chance, she would stare at the lovely Queen, too. When the guard returned, he held the tent flap open for her.

"Please come in, Queen Estoria," a soft voice called from inside.

That was all the confirmation she needed, and so she entered the tent with all of the grace she supposed a Queen had, the tent flap closing behind her. Her eyes took a moment to adjust to the light change, before landing on the elegantly dressed Princess, who was standing just yards away, her hands clasped gently in front of her, and a pleasant expression on her face. 

The Princess seemed to size her up for a moment, an unreadable expression passing in her eyes, before pressing a small smile on her face and addressing her.

"To what do I owe such a privileged private audience, Queen Estoria?"

Dal was aware of every quick second passing along by her. Five minutes to conversate with Adonis and Garvis. Two minutes to steal a cloak. Three minutes to shift in the shadows. Five minutes to find the tent. 

Fifteen minutes total of her thirty wasted. So she got right to the punch.

"Do you care for Prince Tullvomm?"

The Princess blinked, surprise etched in her face. "Excuse me?"

"Do you, or could you, find yourself feeling for the Prince, my son?"

"Is this... Is this a formal offer of marriage, Queen Estoria?

Dal searched the Princess's face, searching for any clue to her feelings, any slight indication that what she was about to do was not a complete breakage of her morals. That what she was going to do would not be entirely unforgivable.

Just when she figured she'd have to spellbind the Princess to get any sort of answer from her, she spoke.

"Perhaps in time, I could," Princess Aramaia shrugged, a tightness setting into her shoulders, "But an arranged marriage would not be my wish."

The words landed like lead in Dal's stomach. She forced herself to nod solemnly like a Queen would, before reaching out and taking Princess Aramaia's hand, as if to console her as a kind, gentle mother would.

Except, she was no kind, gentle mother. She was not even on this poor girl's side. 

The Princess looked as if she wanted to pull away, but she knew better. Right now Dal was the Queen, and to spurn one of the rulers of the country you were in was a massive offense.

And so the Princess allowed Dal to take her creamy hands in hers.

That would be her downfall.

By the golden eyes above, grant me your sight, as a maiden of your power. Let your light shine through me, to blind. To blind to blind to blind.

the Princess' face went slack, as Dal gained a sickening amount of control.

"I'm sorry," Dal murmured, before hastily searching about the tent and finding an empty wine glass.

Dal poured a glass of wine and pulled out the small pink vial from her pocket. she uncorked the vial with one hand, and very careful counted two peach-colored drops into the glass of wine. She turned back to the empty-eyed princess and pressed the glass into her hands.

The Princess's hands immediately wrapped around the stem. Dal pushed the glass towards the girl's mouth, and that was all the suggestion she needed. She immediately brought it to her lips and downed the entire contents of the glass past her throat.

Before coherence could break back to the surface, Dal took the other girl's hands in her own, and repeated different words in her mind, relying on her intuition and studies to guide her. 

By the golden eyes above, grant me your sight, as a maiden of your power. Let your light shine through me, to paint. To paint to paint to paint.

She could see the new memories etching into the Princess's mind as she spoke in it, the new colors weaving feintly recognizable patterns to the trained eye. She spun a new tale in the Princess's mind. 

The Queen had visited just briefly, to check in on the Princess after her leaving the procession. She spent only a moment with her before taking her leave. Afterwards, Aramaia had thought that the Queen might be a good, kind mother-in-law to some girl one day. Maybe even her, if she was lucky. 

Just a few moments, and then gone.

Dal gracefully exited the tents, before the memories and the magic finished their work on the young Princess. She only hoped, as she fled the tents towards the castle, that the magic would not snap down upon the poor young girl, and ruin her.

She held this same hope for herself, she realized.

Later, when Dal had torn off her dress from attending the hunt and climbed into her bed of furs, weary and worn from being polite and nodding and saying the right things, and from pouring new magic into a Princess's mind, she wondered about the conversation from earlier in the day. The one with a red gowned witch, who observed her with angry eyes.

Why hadn't Mother Marian outed her when she had the opportunity?

Dal fell into a restless sleep, her dreams plagued by wayward spells and broken dreams of half-baked Seers.