Queen vs. Town
image [https://i.ibb.co/9gP5RS6/toppng-com-line-dividers-png-1000x200.png]
St. Kevin's sprinkled freedom like a budget Fairy Godmother—a little here, a little there. Enough, perhaps, to grab a latte, some crystals and a decent pair of shoes before Cinderella's carriage spontaneously combusts at the stroke of... well, 6 pm, dinnertime. Tomato, tomahto, really, considering the blisters one would undoubtedly get attempting to walk in those ridiculous torture devices disguised as glass slippers.
Makes you wonder if these fairies even have ankles, let alone feet. Probably explains the whole 'wings and sparkles' thing—easier to avoid podiatric concerns entirely. Or they were just natural-born glitter-addict sadists.
Anyway.
The academy doled out bi-monthly "excursions" to the local town square for the younglings, and a bi-weekly "retail therapy extravaganza" for esteemed seniors like yours truly. More responsibility, they droned on, meant more freedom. Apparently, in their twisted logic, freedom translated to "two glorious hours of afterschool unsupervised spending."
Debatable, considering the vanished students and the distinct lack of Prince Charming involved. Princess Charming however... Eydis glanced outside from her bus window seat, seeing Astra striding fashionably late towards their yellow chariot, a vehicle that might as well be a glorified toaster on wheels.
As the resident rule-breaker, Astra wasn't exactly adhering to the school dress code for the town trip. A denim jacket and a black choker – fashion statement or a rebellion so smooth it was criminal?
Eydis couldn't decide which was more irritating: the ever-present leather choker or the infuriating ease with which Astra seemed to defy every rule and emerge unscathed.
'Not a word, Envy.'
'It's not envious you're feeling—' Envy's response sputtered to a halt in Eydis's mental link as she swiftly shifted back to scheming mode. Today's trip felt different. Maybe, just maybe, it was the day she'd finally catch this elusive familiar, who operated outside of the academy. If not, well, retail therapy was always a reliable consolation prize.
Eydis leaned back against the window, mentally plotting her course for these precious two hours of freedom. Envy would scout for magical anomalies. Meanwhile, Eydis had a vital mission: acquiring new contact lenses. Strictly a necessity, of course. Absolutely no vanity involved. She adjusted her current pair with a practised flick.
Ugh.
A flame-haired fellow practically materialised next to Eydis, cutting off her scheming. A familiar face – what was it, Joseph? No, Josiah! The one with the perpetually constipated expression. Seriously, laxatives were a thing, someone should tell him. The Queen, in her infinite benevolence, might even recommend a healer from her own realm.
"Uh, Eydis," stammered the redhead, "is this seat, uh, free?"
“Solid booking for the return trip, Jeremiah."
"Actually, it's Jo–"
A perfectly timed eyebrow raise slammed the brakes on his stammer. Then, with the melodramatic flourish of a seasoned villain, she swept a strand of hair across her eye, unleashing a glare that make even Hades reconsider his love for pomegranates.
Josianwhatever, face turning a fascinating shade of purple, scurried to the back of the bus.
Weak sauce. A Queen needed her amusement, and sometimes, gentle psychological warfare was the only item on the menu.
Usually, her trips to town were soundtracked by Natalia's boundless enthusiasm—a human golden retriever with an uncanny ability to sniff out cheese shops from a mile away. But alas, Natalia was likely neck-deep in another late-afternoon training session, fuelled by volcanic levels of determination (no pun intended), and a disturbing number of marshmallows.
Disturbing on so many levels. How one person could consume such a sugary mountain without succumbing to a face-plant of epic proportions was a mystery that begged an answer.
A new presence settled beside her, announced by the subtle scent of dark oak and cardamom – none other than Astra. Eydis, ever the picture of startled elegance, almost put her elbow through the armrest.
"Roommate by misfortune, babysitter by even greater misfortune, I presume?" Eydis drawled, raising an eyebrow at Astra's posture, as rigid as a statue sculpted from ice.
"Limited seating," Astra deadpanned.
Eydis patted the empty space beside her. "This one appears curiously unoccupied by perpetually scowling girls with questionable social skills. Funny, I thought we were making progress after our...close bonding experience last night."
"Occupied by your inflated ego, more like," Astra countered, the tiniest flicker of amusement dancing for a brief, rebellious moment in her crimson eyes before being extinguished by the familiar scowl. "Bonding?"
Eydis's grin widened. "Reservations can be revoked, Your Highness of Grumpiness, especially for those who lack the social graces for even the simplest pleasantries. And speaking of unforgettable experiences, I couldn't forget your... unique brand of physical affection."
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
A collective gasp tore through the bus. Heads swivelled like owls on hyperactive caffeine. Heat stained Astra's ears, the colour clashing spectacularly with her spectacular silver hair. Perfect. Eydis, internally awarding herself a gold star for social manoeuvring, figured Astra would be off to sulk with Jo…sephine? to the back of the bus.
But to her surprise, Astra landed next to her with a graceful thud and a huff. Her icy gaze, however, darted away to the startled weightlifter across the aisle who was currently attempting (and failing) to fold himself into the seat.
Eydis sighed internally. Stuck with the brooding Ice Princess again.
Silence descended, punctuated only by the rhythmic hum of the bus. The scent of Astra (who knew brooding could be so strangely comforting?) and the ever-present sleep deprivation finally lulled Eydis into a light doze.
The world dissolved into fragments: the gentle rumble beneath her, the warmth pressed against her shoulder, a hand running through a cascade of silky black hair in a blurry dreamscape. A soft nudge, a sensation that grew more insistent, finally dragging Eydis back from the edge of sleep.
She blinked, disoriented, her head snapping up to meet Astra's crimson eyes. "Did I fall asleep on you?" she mumbled, expecting the Astra-brand death glare.
Astra's lips twitched. "Fascinating display of spatial awareness, rivalled only by your talent for incessant chatter. Now, Your Majesty of Slumber, do you require assistance? Or can you manage on your own two feet?"
Eydis stared, momentarily speechless. Had she stumbled into an alternate universe? Well, it wouldn't be the first time. "Who are you, and what have you done with my monosyllabic roommate? You know, the one who growls instead of greets?"
A genuine, fleeting smile graced Astra's lips before she rose. "Someone who finds your disarray infinitely more amusing than your sarcasm.”
Eydis let out a surprised laugh. "I live to entertain, Your Grumpiness. Now, would My Lady Knight be so very kind as to fetch my bag?"
Astra grumbled a single word, "Don't," before heading down the bus, a ghost of a smile still playing on her lips.
Eydis’s eyes crinkled in genuine amusement. The smile lingered even as she slung her bag over her shoulder. This unexpected adventure was off to a promising start.
----------------------------------------
The town closest to St. Kevin's secluded halls was a postcard come to life. Whitewashed houses lined the streets, with a soundtrack of chirpy jazz and the (suspiciously strong) aroma of freshly brewed coffee. Unlike the four-hour ride to the main city, which remained uncharted territory for Eydis (for now!), this quaint hamlet would serve as her base camp for today.
A rogue gust of wind, carrying a swirling vortex of dead leaves, startled caterpillars, and questionable dust particles, greeted Eydis as she tightened her green blazer. Stepping into a cosy cafe, the heavenly aroma of coffee instantly banished the memory of the outdoors. Despite the approaching closing hour, the cafe bustled with elderly patrons. It was still "office hour," Natalia had explained.
Hands clutched a variety of devices: some, holographic tablets displaying vibrant content; others, well-worn physical books. A few patrons gazed idly at the ceiling, where local news scrolled across a holographic projection.
Eydis released a contented sigh as the first sip of her latte hit her taste buds. The rich, creamy coffee was a revelation, not the usual bland fare she was accustomed to at St Kevin's.
Catching a glimpse of herself in the window, Eydis grimaced. Bloodshot eyes – partly from sleep deprivation, partly from the torture session she'd just endured at the "optician's." Apparently, fitting contact lenses involved enough poking and prodding to qualify as a light interrogation. "Two more visits," the quack had chirped cheerfully, "and then maybe we'll talk about a prescription!"
But a Queen always had a solution. In this case, it involved a strategically deployed serpent companion and a taste of her royal displeasure. The "optician," needless to say, scurried off with surprising agility for a mortal. Enough time, of course, to "borrow" some corrective lenses.
'Honestly, your Majesty, I fail to see the humour in being reduced to a jump scare tactic. It clashes with my aura of sophistication,' Envy hissed telepathically.
'Considering my familiars are missing in action and you're the only one I could find, be grateful you weren't demoted to purse decoration.' Eydis retorted.
Envy grumbled telepathically, a sound suspiciously like a teenager mumbling about unfair curfews.
'Any sign of anomalies?' the Queen pressed.
‘Nothing my keen eyes could detect,’ Envy responded, ‘while dodging your... roommate, of course.’
A smirk slithered across Eydis's face. 'Scared she might outwit you, are we, serpent?’
'We both know only you could scare me, Your Majesty!' Envy's response was a decidedly unenthusiastic hiss.
The Queen sighed. So much for a promising lead. Another dead end. Leaning back, her gaze landed on a holographic display of local news.
A man in a sharply tailored suit, bearing an uncanny resemblance to Tiffany if Tiffany had traded her leopard-print obsession for a more... subdued palette, sat across from a news anchor.
"Sir Thomas," the anchor inquired, "what motivates your decision to run for the Senate seat this year?"
A flicker of arrogance (invisible to the untrained eye) crossed Thomas's face before he contorted it into a mask of anguish.
"Tiffany... My daughter. She's in a coma. My kind, bright angel who wished nothing but the best for her hometown. And I thought," he buried his face in his hands dramatically, "...that maybe if I were the father she could be proud of, if I could make her beloved city a better place, she'd wake up. Eventually." A single, perfectly placed tear glistened on his lashes.
Eydis narrowed her eyes, barely stifling the urge to applaud this Oscar-worthy performance. A girl like Tiffany, raised by doting parents? That was a story even the Brothers Grimm wouldn't dare spin.
The student body at St. Kevin's seemed blissfully unaware of local politics, more interested in the latest gossip about who was dating whom. Taking out her phone, Eydis opened Tweeter to check election hashtags. She grimaced at the barrage of unsolicited nudity that assaulted her royal eyes.
'The filter is clearly broken,' she thought with a frown. No wonder she'd abandoned this social media platform.
Across from her, three seniors' lively debate caught her ear. "The polls favour the newcomer, Thomas. Shady, isn’t it?”
The other woman scoffed. "Blackwood in office already, bless his soul. Don't need another one of those lining their pockets with our hard-earned pennies, do we?"
"Rigged, I tell you, rigged! Who'd vote for that fancy pants fella? Been milkin' our community clubs dry in the name of 'progress,' that's what he's done!"
A hesitant cough interrupted the tirade. A frail-looking man spoke up. "But the tragedy that happened to his family... poor him. No one deserves to lose a daughter so young."
Intensified by curiosity, Eydis clicked the puzzle pieces into place. The sudden disappearance, Tiffany's well-connected circle, and Thomas's meteoric political rise – despite his reputation as a 'scummy' businessman (in Natalia's colourful vocabulary) – all reeked of something far more sinister than a mere campaign.
A slow smile spread across Eydis's lips. The Blackwoods. It had to be. And perhaps, just maybe, a certain missing familiar with a penchant for manipulation was lurking in the shadows, pulling the strings.
Now that was interesting.
This investigative detour, it seemed, wasn't a dead end after all.