Book 1: Chapter 6 - Dinner [Part 2]

Being summoned to Anaselena’s bedchambers late the next morning felt strange. It reminded her that, if the timeline of the game matched this reality, her future brother would likely be conceived soon. A brother represented a threat and she would have to prevent that—and a few ideas were already forming in her mind. However, the thought of her parents doing their business in that very bed made her flush, distracting her. She tried to reason with herself, reminding herself that they were not her real parents, and Anatoli was not her real father. Still, it was… confusing.

Her mother was preoccupied, trying to free a stubborn tangle from her hair. Alone without servants, it fell to Seraphina to help. She offered a faint smile and stepped forward, reaching out to assist. For now, she would continue to play the role of the good daughter.

She started to run the brush through the golden strands of her mother’s hair, finding the whole task oddly relaxing. Skillfully, she worked out the tangles that had tightened overnight, each snag a small challenge to overcome. Morning hair, Seraphina mused, was a stubborn thing—softened by sleep but knotted as if tangled by dreams. As she brushed, she found herself slipping into a rhythm, each stroke calming her thoughts. For a few quiet moments, the complexities of her own plans and schemes faded into the simple pleasure of untangling and smoothing her mother’s hair, each knot a tiny conquest.

“You’ve gotten much better… there’s something different about you,” her mother remarked with a wry smile. “Who would have thought such a simple shift could affect someone so deeply.”

Inwardly, Seraphina’s heart leapt, fearing her secret had been discovered. But with steely resolve, she maintained her fixed, pleasant smile.

“Coming to terms with myself has given me a lot to consider, especially regarding this family… and my duty to it,” she replied, carefully working out another tangle of gold.

Anaselena misinterpreted her words. “Looking forward to marriage so soon? I can’t blame you. I was your age when your father took me as his wife,” she said wistfully. “I love you with all my heart, but my only regret is that I couldn’t bear him a son—a brother who might have protected you in this world.”

Seraphina bristled at the thought. She did not need a man to protect her… though, admittedly, in this medieval world of violence, perhaps she did. Though she was born to a position of privilege, her resources and influence were not quite what they were in comparison to her previous life.

Her smile artificially broadened. “I would have doted on him,” she lied smoothly, adding just the right amount of warmth to her eyes.

“Yes,” her mother agreed, looking at her through the mirror's reflection. “You were always a child full of love.”

Well, it wasn’t entirely untrue. Seraphina had certainly been loved.

“Do you remember that today is the day of your Floriettal?” her mother added.

For a moment, Seraphina’s hand stilled, and her smile faltered. A Floriettal… this world’s equivalent of a grand tea party.

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“I can hardly believe it,” Anaselena snorted. “All that time you spent pestering me to invite those flighty girls over. Remember, they are not here just for a social calling. They are coming to assess us—and to test you, specifically. So, what will you say if they press you about the Sight? No doubt they’ll ask for little Divinations… and how will you respond?”

Seraphina stiffened, taken aback. She had not read anything about this; there was no game lore to guide her through this event. She would be walking into unknown territory, completely unprepared. Panic stirred within her.

Sensing her daughter’s distress, her mother turned and placed a comforting hand on hers. “Of course, we could always say you’re unwell. You have just come into your terms; it’s as good a reason as any. You do not have to do this, my dear.”

Did she truly think that Seraphina de Sariens would run from a challenge? If so, she was sadly mistaken.

Seraphina’s eyes narrowed. “No, Mother, of course not. I’ve been looking forward to meeting my friends for ages,” she lied smoothly. “But… what should I say if they ask me about the Sight?”

Anaselena’s eyes narrowed, giving her daughter a thin-lipped smile. “Lately, you’ve become harder to read, almost as if you were a different person,” she mused, drumming her long nails across the surface of her vanity. “We can no longer claim you’re too young and that the Sight has yet to awaken… The Oracle has always been a pillar of the kingdom, outside the reach of the servants of the River God.”

Ah, the River God. The Lord of Time, whose servants could glimpse into the future. According to the game’s lore, each of his blessed followers received a singular vision of their life. Their ability to predict the future depended on how much of that vision they could individually remember. These blessed few gathered at the temples of the River God, sharing their knowledge to build, in essence, a library of the future.

“Yes, Mother,” she replied simply, dutifully.

Her thoughts drifted back to the Lord of Time. There was a flaw in his servants’ power that even they didn’t recognize. The followers of the River God only glimpsed the most likely futures. The Oracle, on the other hand, could see beyond herself through dreams and visions—a gift passed down through blood, not granted by any divine source.

This was why her mother needed no guards; what good were assassins against someone who could foresee their approach? And it was also why their family believed they would need the protection of the royals for their “ungifted” daughter.

“If they press you, you will tell them the Sight is not to be used unless for the Kingdom’s good or under the King’s express command. And should they truly push, you will say you feel unwell and need a moment to retire. Then you will speak to me, and I will tell you what you need to know,” her mother commanded.

“You’re an intelligent girl; you’ll do what must be done. You will serve Aranthia well. I have seen it.” Anaselena stood, facing her daughter. She placed both hands on Seraphina’s shoulders, her voice turning to a warning. “And that de Laney girl, the merchant filth who thinks her name and family our equal. Beware of her. I hear her family seeks Velens’s hand and has powerful foreign backers who would see Aranthia weakened. The temerity of the she-Ruar,” she warned, her final harsh words at odds with graceful appearance.

Seraphina could not help but give out an unladylike snort in amusement. A Ruar was a type of large, reptilian work animal, and if her memory served her correctly, Idalie de Laney was nothing like that. Still, the comparison was an amusing image.

Moments later, her expression softened, and she offered her mother a sad smile, a shadow passing over her face. It was her mother’s very gift that would block her ambitions. A loyalist to the core, she loved the country more than her own family, or so it was written in her character profile. Thus, Anaselena would never aid her daughter’s dark designs for the throne. A throne without Crown Prince Velens the Bold.

However, there was a flaw in the Sight, or Dreamsight, a blind spot. A blind spot that Seraphina would have to manipulate if she was to see her dreams come to fruition. It was a shame that she would have to die once she had served her purpose.