Chapter 2.07: The Fall of the Monarchy

Leila's jaw dropped as a slow, confused laugh left her lips. She looked off to the side with a wave of discomfort overtaking her senses. "Excuse me?"

The idea of having supporters was great. There had to be people who hated the royals as much as she did. But to be suddenly handed a supposed talisman to take down the entire monarchy was madness. The book never mentioned anything like this and the bracelet just came out of nowhere. She didn't know if she could fully trust the older adult woman or her word. For all the heiress knew, she was a loyalist using her appearance and lies to trap her. To spill to a tabloid that she was using magic to fight. Or she was some nut job who worshiped this so-called Saintess who nearly ended the war in the worst way possible. All of this information being dumped on her shoulders was downright maddening to digest so soon.

"There are many citizens who pity your plight and wish you were the queen. We believe that the current rulers are souring the work of the Saintess." The old woman's eyes glistened with a fanatic passion that sent chills down Leila’s spine.

She took a deep breath, praying that she wouldn't have to lay hands on someone so fragile. "I don't know anything about the Saintess. And I have no intentions to challenge the royals." This was, of course, a lie, but she wasn't interested in being allied with a bunch of religious nut jobs.

The atmosphere of the room was incredibly tense as the elderly woman came closer. Leila held her hand out in front of her to keep the old lady back. This stopped her momentarily, but the heiress could see that the woman wanted to move. Her wrinkly face was twitching as she fidgeted. The teenager didn't want to kill her. The woman had been kind despite her weirdness. But she wasn't ready to offer herself to a cult. That would be her last resort and only when she was half mad. Plus, she wasn't sure if the cult would even keep her alive once the royals were out of the way. They might target her next. So Leila narrowed her eyes at the woman suspiciously. Her hand dug into her pocket, touching a small knife. If worse came to worst, she'd threaten her.

But thankfully, the woman's attention was diverted elsewhere. Outside the tent, there was a loud noise that reminded her of popcorn popping. Only it was much louder and followed by glorious applause. Ah, someone was letting off fireworks. The gray-haired woman frowned as the joyful celebration kept going on while the people outside celebrated. A sour look came over her withered face. Before Leila could speak again, she ran off. The elderly woman ran out of the tent from its other side in a huff. The whole thing left the teenager incredibly confused. The heiress didn't know if she should look around the tent for anything or just leave. There could be clues on who this strange cult was. But she felt increasingly unsafe in this environment. Like there were eyes from every corner watching her every move.

Leila decided to leave any snooping for later and quickly left. They showered the night sky with gold as fireworks covered it in their flames. The festival grounds were ten times as busy now with all the events happening at once. A curse left her mouth as she realized how much time had passed. The tired girl knew she would have to leave soon. By the looks of it, midnight was approaching and her mother would be furious if she came any later. Meaning she had little time to spare. The heiress began to push through the crowd, looking to see who she had been searching for. There were stands of smoking meat with hundreds eating from spikes. Women dressed in sacred robes, praying to their fathers and mothers who had fallen in war. Her vision became overtaken by lanterns swimming in the sky.

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There was just so much going on all at once that she felt overwhelmed. She was one woman that had to find a group she had never met in person. All Leila had was memories from reading the books to guide her. Something that honestly left her feeling frustrated beyond belief as she walked on the wet grass. Part of her wanted to just give up. But she needed something to use for her future against the royals. She needed to put out an image that would gain her loyalty. Her eyes watered from all the emotions tumbling in her body, and she stopped. The teenager leaned against a nearby tree to gather her senses. The old woman was an unknown that knocked her off her game. Something Leila had to accept was that the books could go only so far with their helpfulness.

"Cleo!" the teen groaned, hearing someone call out from afar. The headache she had tripled. "Cleo!"

The teenager wasn't sure who was calling out for her. She looked around, taking a moment to chill out and let her mind slow down. There was a group of kids nearby who she had never seen before. On the other side, she saw an old man with a table. Jars of what looked to be colored liquid sat on them with handmade clothing. She could tell from the knitted look each piece had. The old man looked up and waved at her. That's when she recognized him. He was a person that was at the banquet. The gentle elderly man who had given her dye that his village had crafted themselves. The dye worked beautifully, and she had wished she'd gotten more. He must have been the one calling her over. Still, she was surprised he noticed her in a large crowd.

Leila didn’t have much time left, and she doubted that she would find the protesters. So she might as well walk over to talk to him. He had a welcoming look on his face as she came over. They shook hands, and she noticed he seemed tired. His palms were tender from working without gloves and his face was flushed from the heat. The dark-haired heiress worried that he had been outside working in the scorching sun for hours. Frowning, she listened to him eagerly talk and catch her up to his life. The man was excited to see her, having told his entire village about how much she liked their work. Something that comforted her was that the villagers were unaware of her reputation. So they saw her as just some sweet woman who loved what they did.

"Would you like some free samples? We have started to make hair dyes and I think you'd love it."

Leila shook her head and dug into her pocket. A bag of coins came out. It moved together loudly as she handed it over to him. "No, I'll pay for one of each."

Before the old man could continue gushing at her kindness, some stranger smacked the bag. Some of its contents fell on the ground and became covered in the dirty mud below. Leila scowled, looking to see who had acted so boldly. And she was met with the face of a strange woman. She had never seen her before in her life, with her cool brown eyes and hair. The dark-haired heiress felt her mouth twitch as she tried not to retaliate. The old man quickly pushed the brunette behind him and bowed in apology.

"I'm sorry. My granddaughter can be outspoken‌. Please, let me help you pick those up."

The man started to bend down only for the heiress to hurry and stop him. She held out a hand, using her other to scoop up the coins quickly. "No, it's fine."

She directed her attention at his granddaughter, with her tone turning harsher as she spoke. "Is there a problem with my payment? I have bills if you prefer to use those, ma'am." Every word dripped with smugness as the woman growled in anger.

The brunette looked like she wanted to retaliate. The fact that Leila saw her as nothing enraged the farm girl, who shook in uncontrolled emotion. The dark-haired heiress was about to laugh when the brunette inhaled. Her lips puckered out, and to the teenager's shock, she spat at her.