Élan: A Youngblood World

CHAPTER 13 Ambush

          "UGH! Traffics are just the worst!" Lyfa exclaimed as she braided her wine hair.

          The bloating heat inside the car cooled down once they were greeted by the grand buildings of Vherna City. The clouds lost their blissful countenance that Stella was accustomed to back in Calyxia. Not long after midday since they departed, Stella had known her mother's friend whom she was to be received was a witty man named Kalhoun Eldrikson. Not much had she known of him only that he was a biology researcher whom her mother and Anton knew. The driver had also been prevailing through the trip. The air conditioner has served as their sole comfort against the discomfit. 

       It did not bother the Princess to dive through the journal they had discovered kept in one of the duffle bags. Her father's signature let her know it was his. She almost dropped the leather-bound book out of boredom when a paper slipped off. A letter from the Ambassador sent two days ago.

       'To serve your pleas and consider your questions answered, Your Majesty need only to heed this infamous words by our renowned national exemplar, Slyfia Mercado: No man can equal to that of beasts, just as no brutes can equal to that voice of man from which liberty was gifted.'

       Classic, enigmatic Allyson.

       "It's good to be out of the borders again."

       "Good to be out and take in the new sights," Lyfa added, her smile poking a dimple on her left cheek. Found among the ladies-in-waiting to serve the young princess, the Syschon House thought it better they "stow" their accidental youngest under the care of the palace at the age of 10. There, Stella found a playmate two gap years behind her. "I always wanted to go the Greens Grandiose Galore, but I heard it's been closed for a while due to collateral damage."

       "If only the situation was different, then I would have suggested we run ahead of the traffic." 

       "Now, now, Your Highness and Lady Syschon, you know I would not let that be 'lest we challenge to face Her Majesty's wrath. Mostly towards me, of course."

       "Come on, Uncle Anton! Just a few side trips around the shops. We promise we won't take long," Lyfa pleaded. "This is a rare opportunity! Why can't we get the nice things handpicked by ourselves? Well, for Her Highness, at most, I mean. So please?"

       Anton pursed his lips together. "Mmm, I do have to prioritize your safety so we should make our move immediately..."

       "Aw, alright." Lyfa crossed her arms, pouting.

       "Ah, ah, ah!" Anton wiggled a finger before she could protest. "I didn't say we get to do it after the traffic. In fact, I do concur that our Princess is in need of a tad touch on the outside border walls. Alright, then." At that, Stella and Lyfa squealed. "Do hurry up before I drive this up to the next two intersections or I'll have to leave you running in your heels." 

       Before he could say any more, Lyfa pulled the driver into a hug. "Thank you, thank you so much, Uncle! You're the best-est as ever!" Once the door opened, Stella was hauled away by the ever-enthusiastic lady.

       "Always with the antics, these girls."

       The man may not have known it, but Stella had always pictured him to be the ideal patriarch she had been missing. A man who had allowed her freedom more times than she can count.

       *

       Purple is the insignia of nobility. As for Stella, it elicits inner creativity and true beauty. Its compliment dress cascaded down into cottons slithering across the wooden floor. With the sleeves and neckline of satin floral flakes, Stella knew she picked the perfect finery for the following month's FlowerFest Gala. The girl who stood before her was Stella, not Stella Astrophes Verdana Fjore. After a couple of twirls before the mirror, she slid aside the dressing room's door to greet an impatient Lyfa. "How is it?"