Book 1: Chapter 8 - The Tea Party [Part 2]

Eloise leaned back with casual grace, resting her head on a dainty hand. "And, a well-built road benefits merchants and nobles alike," she remarked, adjusting a fold of her dark dress. "It's a pity some regions cling so desperately to the old ways."

"Tradition has its merits," Seraphina replied lightly, her fingers tracing the gilded rim of her cup. "Not everyone is eager to pave over their heritage."

Michelié frowned in thought. "But without new roads, how will we get the latest fashions before they are out of season? I simply must have those Empire silks."

Rashana hid a smile behind her teacup. "There is a balance to be found between preserving the past and embracing the future."

Eloise tilted her head, eyes never leaving Seraphina. "Speaking of fashions, Seraphina, your gown is… delightfully classic. A family heirloom, perhaps?"

"Thank you for noticing," Seraphina replied, utterly unfazed. "It was inspired by one of my mother’s dresses. Some things, like good taste and style, are timeless, unlike fleeting trends."

Michelié sighed wistfully. "I do love a good heirloom. Though sometimes they can be dreadfully old-fashioned," she commented oblivously with brown, bovine eyes.

"Only to those who cannot appreciate their value," Seraphina said, her smile cool.

Eloise took a delicate sip of her tea. "Value is such a subjective thing, isn't it? What one considers priceless, another might see as… just dated."

"Much like alliances," Seraphina remarked pointedly, her emerald eyes settling on Michelié as she sought confirmation. "They shift and change, often without warning."

Michelié met her gaze with a vacant smile, utterly oblivious. Either she was an actress of supreme subtlety or simply naive beyond measure. Seraphina was willing to wager her inheritance on the latter.

An uncomfortable silence settled over the table. Birds chirped merrily in the wisteria vines, oblivious to the undercurrents below.

Michelié broke the tension with a bright laugh. "These pastries are simply divine! Did your chef come from the Capital?"

"He is trained in the old traditions," Seraphina answered without answering the question. "A craftsman who values quality over novelty."

"Perhaps you could share the recipe," Eloise suggested, a touch of acid in her voice and a quiet glint in her eye. "It would be a kindness to spread such… traditional delights."

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"Some secrets are best kept close to one’s breast," Seraphina replied, eyeing Eloise’s less than bountiful chest. "I am sure you understand."

Eloise's smile did not reach her eyes. "Of course. Family traditions and secrets are so important, especially when they’re all one has."

The dark haired girl was skirting dangerously close to the line. Had they been men, Seraphina would have been forced to demand satisfaction. As it, was, all she could do was smile for the moment.

Rashana set down her cup with a gentle clink. "The spring air is lovely today, isn't it? The wisterias are in full bloom."

"Indeed," Seraphina agreed, grateful for the change in topic. "Their beauty endures year after year, a reminder of the enduring strength of roots well planted."

"Unless a harsh wind comes to uproot them," Eloise countered adroitly, letting a servant refill her cup. “The weather can be so unpreditable of late.”

"Then they must be resilient," Seraphina countered, her gaze steady. "Deep roots hold firm, no matter the storm."

“And… if one were able to read the changes in the wind a storm void be easy to simply avoid,” smiled the dark haired girl.

Michelié looked between them, brow furrowed. "I do hope there isn't a storm coming. My hair simply frizzes in damp weather."

The dusky Rashana chuckled softly, the bangles at her wrists jangling as if in compliment. "Fear not, Michelié. The skies are clear, and will remain so, at least for today."

Eloise leaned forward, her eyes gleaming with mischief. "Oh yes, Seraphina, do tell. Predicting the weather should be a simple task for someone of your... abilities."

Michelié nodded eagerly, a smudge of cake at the corner of her mouth. "Yes, please, Lady Seraphina! If it's going to affect my hair, I'd really like to know!"

Seraphina arched a delicate eyebrow, her patience waning. "You wish me to divine the weather like a common fortune teller at the faire? Why, I feel almost insulted."

"Or perhaps," Eloise interjected smoothly, a sly smile playing on her lips, "it's that you cannot?"

Seraphina's emerald eyes flashed as she met Eloise's gaze head-on. "Perhaps you'd like me to reveal your future’s path, Eloise. The future holds many secrets—some more enlightening than others."

Eloise's smile didn't falter. "Oh, I'd be delighted. Do tell what the future has in store for me, if you can that is."

Inside, Seraphina's mind whirred, crafting a plan extemporaneously.

She rose gracefully from her seat. "Then shall we take a turn about the garden? Such matters are best discussed in private, for one’s future is a matter most private. Since you are all my friends, let me reveal something to you in trust. The Dreamsight does not just give us insight into the future—it glimpses into the past as well."

A flicker of uncertainty crossed Eloise's face, but she quickly masked it with a confident tilt of her head. "Why, of course, Seraphina. I'm eager to see the extent of your... insights."

Rashana sipped her tea thoughtfully, her gaze serene. "I'll remain here and enjoy the tranquility. Michelié and I can keep each other company."

Michelié beamed, blissfully unaware of the tension. "More cake for us, then!"

Seraphina extended her hand, and a servant promptly placed a delicate parasol into it. "Shall we?" she asked.

"Let's," Eloise replied with a challenger’s smile, taking up her own parasol.

As they strolled away from the gazebo, the wisteria petals fluttered gently around them, the air thick with unspoken words. The warm spring afternoon seemed to hold its breath, the garden becoming a silent witness to the subtle duel unfolding between the two girls.