Chapter 2.06: The Lanterns Shine Bright

The ground was sticky and her skin felt hot from the humidity in the air. Leila walked into the sea of people, enjoying the festivities with curiosity. Each person was wearing a white ensemble, a tradition since the beginning of the festival. They saw it as a sign of respect for those who have passed. Instead of wearing black to mourn, they walked in white to celebrate them. The heiress smelled oily food as they handed children whisker baskets. Inside of them was fried bread based on what soldiers had eaten back during the war. Of course, the bread from back then wasn't covered in powdered sugar, syrups, and plump fruits. The joy on the strangers' faces was a relief to the teenager.

For the past three months, she has been driven by her growing anxiety and unrest. It was nice to be in an environment that was full of positivity and glee. No one had said anything to her either. People who recognized her choose to ignore her presence or treat her with care. Everyone here knew that the festival wasn't the place for conflict. Instead, it was a time to slow down and live in the moment. As the ancestors would have wanted. Thick mud squashed under her sandals as the heiress observed some more. She couldn't see anything out of the ordinary yet. The crowd was getting denser, so Leila made her way out of it. Pushing past some distracted civilians, an endless row of booths left her. They were varied in content and price, but all looked the same.

"Ma'am, would you like to try a homemade lemon scrub? It can be used in all parts of your body!"

"We sell fresh rolls. Cinnamon, jam, pudding, and glaze are all for sale. Try one!"

"Hot, steamed red bean buns! Come get some red bean buns right over here! Before they're gone!"

The dark-haired woman bought various items to bring home as gifts. She promised the maids that they would receive hot treats as they had to work during the festival. And some guards who hadn't soured on her after what happened asked for the same. Leila found herself amazed by how delicious and unique everything looked. Before her eyes, there were hundreds of items hand-crafted and created by civilians. Citizens from all over the nation and even the continent came to show off the appreciation they had for their roots. They knew the good and the bad but still held onto their loyalty. Leila wondered if a festival like this would remain after the fall of the king and queen. She thought of how the people would see their history once they brought every little demon into the light.

Her mind continued to wander as she walked with the crowd further. There was a lot for her to see and she still couldn't find the protesters. They had to be here by now, as the festival was halfway over. Leila held two nets in her arms, full of purchases. The bean buns she bought smelled tasty, making her stomach grumble. It sucked that she couldn't stop to eat in her hurry to find anything. The presence of Cale was bothering her. Hell, she was starting to think that she feared him. That it wasn't Cleo's terror that was impacting her mindset. The pig was bigger than her and he was definitely more skilled. In a fight without her eyes, she'd have to be brutal. Killing him didn't bother her. She'd love to. But it would negatively affect her image and supporters. Meaning she has to suck it up for the time being.

As the teenager walked further and further, she came across a tent that caught her eye. It was shabby looking, being made of a dark, ugly fabric. There was a small statue of a woman she recognized right outside the entrance. The woman had short hair that covered her face and held a sword. Her breath caught as she walked closer, seeing the woman fully in her marble form. She was Minerva, the third princess she read about months prior. The person who created a bias against those with dark purple magic to manipulate your mind. It wasn't odd to have a shrine to the deceased in a festival like this. She fought and died to protect the land Leila was standing on. That they all were born on. But to see her sculpted to look so sad instead of victorious as others would leave her feeling uncomfortable.

Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

But despite her growing discomfort, it overcame Leila with the sudden need to enter. Something about the tent was pulling her towards it. There was something or someone inside calling to her. It delved deep into her soul. With a hesitant glance, she pushed one of the tent curtains out of the way and walked in. Her sense became overtaken by the scent of incense burning in the air and perfumed fabric making her eyes water. The tent was bigger inside, with what looked to be more Minerva statues and artwork surrounding Leila. The artwork was breathtaking in its detail and colors. The heiress walked up to one on a canvas, feeling her heart drop. They drew the third princess like an angel who had fallen on the battlefield. Seeing her like that left her sick.

"Are you a follower of the dark-eyed Saintess?" An elderly woman appeared out of a corner. She had long gray hair and was dressed in loose robes.

This made Leila jump back from the canvas to face her. She was confused about who the woman was talking about, as Minerva wasn't a saintess. The woman also didn't have dark eyes and was always referred to by her royal title. The woman must have noticed her confusion, as she chuckled awkwardly.

"I suppose you're too young to know about her. The Saintess was Minerva's lover, who was killed by her blade during the war's end. I assumed you followed her from your distaste of the third princess." This shocked Leila, as the books never mentioned her ever having a lover of any kind during the war.

The heiress frowned, walking over to the woman as it overloaded her mind with questions. "I was always taught that Minerva never had time for romance. Any love she felt was directed at her country." Once Leila said it, she blushed. It sounded ridiculous.

"That's what the history books say. But people who forgot the Saintess wrote those books." Her shaky, wrinkly hand held a beaded bracelet. The stones sewn in were dull and cracked. "She was considered a traitor to all for what happened. Still, the dark-eyed Saintess has worshippers."

Leila was handed the bracelet and looked it over. The jewelry was definitely old; the string holding it together was falling apart. The beads looked like a human hand had carved them. She found it tragic to look at. Something naturally dulled the colors of how worn the entire thing was. In her palm, it felt hot enough to burn a hole in it. But she still held onto it and slid it onto her wrist. The bracelet felt like it had always belonged there‌.

"That bracelet is a talisman. It will bless you with her protection for as long as you wear it." The old woman sounded so sincere it felt bad to be skeptical. Still, Leila felt troubled that a stranger like her was being given such a powerful item.

"Why give something so valuable to me?"

The question hung in the air as the old woman smiled. This left Leila feeling uncomfortable all over again as she waited for an answer. This elderly woman was acting like she knew the heiress. The woman wondered if she was a royal supporter. Or if she planned to berate her for what the media said. The uncertainty of the situation made her head spin as she stood with the bracelet on her arm. It felt like it was weightless, despite the beads hanging on.

Finally, she sighed and beckoned Leila forward, to which the heiress stayed in place. "Because you will need it. I know what you're here for and I want to show you that some of us support you. Down with the king, down with the crown prince. The royals deserve to fall and you’re going to make it happen."