Book 1: Chapter 8 - The Tea Party [Part 3]
The two girls glided past the cascading wisterias, Seraphina leading the way toward the entrance of the garden's briar maze. The thorny hedges had been trimmed into perfect straight lines, forming walls of uniform green spikes.
"Well, Seraphina, aren't you going to tell me all about my future?" Eloise asked, breaking the silence between them with a hint of uncertainty—a small victory for Seraphina.
Seraphina smiled and touched a single ruby earring at her ear before smoothly removing it and tucking them into an inner fold of her dress.
They walked a few more paces into the maze before Seraphina deigned to reply. "Your family has profited greatly from its links to the Empire and patronage of certain senators," she remarked lightly.
"That we have connections in high places is no secret, Seraphina. You'll have to do better than that to convince me," Eloise retorted, her expression hovering between a smirk and a fox's grin as she twirled her parasol.
"It's more than just a few trade deals here and there, little Eloise. They've turned your father—and by extension, your family—into traitors," declared the heiress of the Sarien duchy.
Eloise's eyes narrowed dangerously. "Those are quite the accusations, even for you, Seraphina," she hissed, coming to an abrupt halt.
"Lady Seraphina to you—you forget yourself," the blonde corrected, continuing a few steps ahead. "I know full well that your father has been providing the Empire with intelligence on our military and matters of state. For about five years now, if memory serves."
"And you have proof of this?" Eloise blurted out, her mask of calm slipping.
"Lower your voice," Seraphina admonished, glancing back at her. "We wouldn't want everyone to discover your dark secrets. Oh, I see you are not even bothering to deny the accusations."
"You have no proo—" the waifish girl began, her protest faltering.
"Your father's contact is the merchant Antonius Luxor, a so-called dealer in rare dyes. He is part of the Empire's intelligence network. He made your father an intelligence asset in exchange for assistance in his rise to the peerage. A good deal as far as your snake of a father was concerned. Ambitious creature, your pater, Geron de Laney—ideas far above his station. He should have kept his dreams limited to opening another stall at the market. Such aspirations poison the blood of our nation," Seraphina explained provocatively.
"How could you..." Eloise burst out, then caught herself, her face a mix of shock and guilty dismay.
Her expression was so pitiful that Seraphina felt a fleeting spark of sympathy. Poor Eloise had little choice in the matter—their fates had been scripted long before the rich woman had entered this world. Eloise had always been destined to serve those more powerful. In some routes of the game, she had been a friend to the protagonist, but when the protagonist discovered that she was serving the Empire, they were compelled by duty to expose her, leading to her tragic execution. In other paths, where the protagonist encountered her little or not at all, she became the unwilling pawn and hanger-on of Seraphina. From Seraphina's perspective, she was simply hastening things along.
"I could pretend it was just a guess, but you have confirmed it regardless. So very childish of you, Eloise," she said, wagging a finger in the girl's face. "You are very new to this game, so you would not understand. But if my mother or I have seen such things, it will be proof enough for King Elidion to act. Foolish, foolish child."
The irony of her own words was not lost on her. Seraphina reminded herself that she had a decade more experience dealing with even more difficult situations than this girl.
Reaching her boiling point, the dark-haired girl lunged forward, trying to grab Seraphina's hair, her composure shattered. Seraphina swiftly stepped back, lifting the hem of her dress high to reveal a knife strapped to her thigh. In one smooth, practiced motion, she drew the blade.
It was time for a hands-on approach.
Eloise's eyes widened in shock at the sudden prospect of real, visceral violence. Her mouth opened to scream, but before she could utter a sound, Seraphina closed the distance between them. With swift precision, she clamped a hand over Eloise's mouth, tackling her to the ground with her superior strength.
Straddling her in a mount position, Seraphina pressed the knife to Eloise's throat, just enough to draw a tiny bead of blood—a crimson droplet against pale skin.
"Sshh, now, dearest Eloise," Seraphina whispered, her voice cold and steady. "There is a way out of this for you yet. Join me, and let me avail myself of your family's resources and contacts within the Empire. In return, I will see to it that your family's secrets are protected. Having the shield of the future queen of Aranthia is not such a bad deal. Do you understand?"
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Beneath her, Eloise tried to scream her defiance, tears of frustration welling in her eyes as she futilely kicked and struggled against the stronger girl. Of course, she had forgotten that Eloise had eyes for the Crown Prince. For Eloise, Seraphina was nothing but a rival for his affection. Time to nip that right in the bud.
Seraphina gazed down at her, emerald eyes as cold and unforgiving as ice. She wondered if some of her skills had carried over into this world and eager to test her newly gained magical abilities.
Adjusting her grip, she kept one hand firmly over Eloise's mouth while the other shifted the knife from her throat to her abdomen. With a swift, decisive motion, she plunged the blade into Eloise's stomach. Her hand remained an unyielding vice as a cruel smile spread across her features, a notification flashing in her inner vision the moment the blade kissed flesh.
You have learned Daggers (lvl.1)
You have learned Daggers (lvl.2)
You have learned Daggers (lvl.3)
You have learned Daggers (lvl.4)
It seemed that some skills were indeed carried over, though hidden until unlocked by specific actions. She dismissed these notifications, only to be greeted with another:
You have reached level 15.
You have 3 unassigned attribute points.
You have 1 unassigned skill point.
The girl smiled maniacally. Just like in the game, you gained experience points for raising skills and were awarded points to assign when you leveled up. Unlike the game, however, there was an annoying timer in the top-left corner of her vision, counting down from ten.
Annoyed at having to choose so soon, she nonetheless allocated her free attribute points: one each to Constitution, Dexterity, and Charisma. She placed the skill point into her new Heal spell, playing to her strengths while shoring up some weaknesses.
Beneath her, Eloise's struggles weakened, becoming fainter. Back to the task at hand.
She smiled radiantly at the dying girl. “El, darling, blink twice if you understand and agree. I might just decide to save you,” she offered. “As an added bonus, I may give Velens to you once I'm done with him.”
As expected, the desperate girl blinked twice.
With that settled, she moved her hand away from Eloise's mouth. Eloise breathed weakly, blessedly quiet and no longer struggling. Seraphina took the time to wipe her dagger on the girl's dress before lifting the hem again to sheathe it.
Now, how did this work again? She focused, trying to summon the magic of the Heal spell. Thankfully, it answered her call—a song of raw, divine joy escaping her mouth, an aria of praise.
Too much! she thought, gritting her teeth, trying to suppress it even as she directed the energies into the black-haired girl, Eloise. Something clicked into place—a latch that finally caught or a puzzle piece falling where it should.
You have learned Silent Casting (lvl.1)
Almost immediately, the song grew quiet, what once a great orchestra of praise, just a quiet murmur in the back of her mind. Looking down at Eloise she could not help but notice her expression of wonder and fear, mixed in equal measure.
She had her completely now.
*****
She led a now very somber Eloise back to where the two other girls waited in the gazebo. The dark-haired girl looked lost and adrift, her eyes staring slightly off into space.
“Oh my!” Michelié exclaimed after finishing a fresh plate of biscuits. “Whatever happened? I heard some shouting and an odd song... you two weren’t singing, were you? And you look positively dreadful, Ele. What happened to your dress?”
“Perhaps some futures are better left unknown,” Rashana commented enigmatically, giving the blonde girl a knowing look.
Seraphina smiled at both of them, adjusting her hair as she sat at the table. “The clumsy girl tripped and fell in the maze, silly thing,” she explained. “Is that not right, Eloise, darling?”
“Yes, Lady Seraphina,” Eloise answered hollowly, eyes downcast.
“Oh, the hour is drawing late. I would offer you the hospitality of my home, but I know that your families want you back as soon as possible, so I shall not be keeping the pair of you. It would be rude,” stated Seraphina, putting her red earring back on.
“Oh, alright then! Ele, you’ll be riding in my carriage for part of the way, won’t you?” bubbled Michelié.
“Oh, Eloise has decided to stay with us for the time being. We have so much to talk about. She has offered to give me some insights on the proper management of one's estates. I am slow of learning, so I shall be availing myself of her tutelage for quite a while,” Seraphina answered for her, her smile still pleasant.
In ancient times, the powerful lords of Aranthia had kept ‘guests,’ hostages in all but name, to keep intractable houses in line. Seraphina thought it was high time to bring back such a tradition.
As she smiled at the girls, she found herself rather admiring Rashana’s red dress. She would have to get herself one cut in a similar fashion soon, the shade would suit her far more than the dark-skinned girl.