"Do you know what that painting is?"
Marissa Lombardi, the golden child of a marquis, posed the question. Blessed with a complexion that would make alabaster jealous, and the kind of blue eyes and blonde hair that poets would wax lyrical about, she was often touted as the continent's resident beauty queen.
She was a Vision and Force Art Mage, a title she earned from Saint Lucia Academy. Although her magical prowess was fairly average, she had a convenient excuse. After all, juggling politics, social events, and the economy was no easy feat, even for a multitasking prodigy like her.
As the eldest of five siblings and the most eligible bachelorette in Soulnaught, expectations hung around her like a heavy cloak. But Marissa, ever the perfectionist, wore it with grace.
Perfection, calmness, elegance - they were not just qualities expected of her, they were her armor. And with time, she had polished this armor to a dazzling shine. So much so, that it was easy to forget it was just that - an armor.
That was until the Marquis dropped the bombshell. Marissa was appointed as Emperor Burn's "chatting friend."
Yes, it was a thing.
The emperor, for his part, hadn't asked for a gaggle of social butterflies to flutter around him. But the dearth of social events helmed by him had left the nobility in a lurch.
They were starved for a window into the life of the enigmatic emperor, a man whose love for order and efficiency bordered on neurotic.
And in these times of drastic changes, brought about by pesky space invaders, it was paramount to have a man like him at the helm. Predictably, he elevated his kingdom to an empire status and set about conquering the continent, aiming to unite the world under one banner.
Before His Majesty ascended too high into the realm of power, the nobility needed to anchor him. Hence, Marissa and her merry band of noblewomen were chosen as this anchor.
It was a task as nerve-wracking as walking a tightrope over a pit of vipers. Burn was a monarch to be feared, not trifled with. One small misstep, and it was off with their heads.
After all, what could one expect from an emperor who shielded the world from extraterrestrial attacks and had no qualms about fratricide?
And so, Marissa climbed the social ladder, firmly establishing herself as the emperor's favorite chatmate. After all, she was the perfect blend of intellectual stimulation and visual delight, a combination that seemed to suit the emperor's refined tastes.
Everything went swimmingly, until one day, the emperor woke up with a sudden desire to dabble in the fine arts. He demanded painting supplies, a request as shocking as it was baffling. No one knew the emperor had an artistic bone in his body, let alone the ability to wield a paintbrush.
A week later, a new painting was unveiled, and uproar ensued. The emperor, it turned out, wasn't just a ruler and a warrior; he was an artist too.
And the subject of his painting was a woman of otherworldly beauty.
Captivating blue eyes, golden blonde locks—
The moment the painting was revealed, all eyes swiveled towards Marissa, who possessed similar features. Sure, she wasn't as breathtakingly beautiful as the woman in the painting, but then again, who was?
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But you know how men are, right? They always paint the women they fancy in a more flattering light.
Despite the glaring mismatch in their facial features, Marissa suddenly became the belle of the ball. Not only was she now considered prime empress material, she also found herself the hot topic amongst the chattering classes.
The emperor, in his quest to find the woman he'd painted, had dispatched his men far and wide. Rumor even had it that he'd embarked on a solo expedition to locate her, adding a dash of romance to the already tantalizing tale.
Sure, it was becoming increasingly clear that Marissa wasn't the woman in question. But why shouldn't it be Marissa? If the emperor couldn't find his mystery muse, wouldn't he eventually settle for a replacement?
After all, he held the whole world in his hands, ripe with potential substitutes.
Since the unveiling of the painting, it had become a permanent fixture in the palace. And there was a unanimous consensus among all who saw it.
The woman in the painting was the yet-to-be-named empress.
And the day the emperor decided to christen her, it would be the equivalent of announcing the name of his future companion.
"Do YOU know what that painting is?" Marissa's voice echoed through the hall as she repeated herself.
Momo simply tilted her head, perplexed. "This painting? Yeah I—"
“If you know, then you must’ve grasped its importance. But you dare to try and sabotage it, right here in the emperor's palace? How audacious can one be?!” Marissa seethed.
Momo shrugged nonchalantly, “I mean, I don’t see why he still keeps it on display. It's not like it serves any purpose anymore, does it?”
In a fit of rage, Marissa lunged forward, yanking off Momo’s veil with a swift, brutal pull. “How presumptuous…!”
There was a collective gasp.
The woman in the painting was portrayed as an astronomical beauty. Folks assumed no living being could rival the stunning woman they presumed was a figment of the emperor's imagination.
Little did they know that the breathing, living version was almost a thousand times more enchanting than the rendition on canvas.
As Momo's veil was ripped away, her neatly tied bun unraveled, letting her hair tumble down in a cascade of enticing disarray.
Who else but her could boast of such thick, long blonde lashes? And those delicately arched eyebrows—it was the emperor's painting that paled in comparison.
What kind of blue were those? The blue in her eyes made every other blue hue in the world seem counterfeit. And that sculpted face? Why did even the tales of elvish and fairy beauty fall short of describing her?
Standing next to the painting, it seemed ludicrous to suggest that the woman depicted was anyone else. However, it did look like the real Momo was the prettier sister of her painted counterpart, making the whole situation downright unbelievable.
"Wh—what sorcery is this?! You dare contort your face to resemble—"
No.
Even Marissa, in her disbelief, couldn't detect a hint of transformation or disguise magic on Momo's stunning face. Consumed by frustration, she stormed off, her entourage of sycophants trailing behind her, leaving a bewildered Momo in their wake.
"...my veil..." Momo started to protest, but thought better and let Marissa go.
Upon further reflection, Momo recalled how numerous young noblewomen at the banquet had magically dyed their hair blonde. Even the other three other than Marissa. She cast a glance at the painting behind her, and—
"What the—pfffft—fu—hahahah!"
She burst into uncontrollable laughter. "Poor Caliburn..." Momo managed to say, clutching her stomach as waves of laughter overtook her. This amusing misunderstanding was bound to add quite the spice to his romantic life later.
"All the more reason to... pffft—take this down..." Momo, still shaking with mirth, mustered her strength once again to remove the painting.
But her hands gradually came to a halt.
Still wearing remnants of her laughter on her face, Momo felt a warmth spread across her cheeks. Her striking blue eyes softened, and her smile delicately trembled. So this was how people interpreted Burn's search for her?
Indeed, it was a misunderstanding, and the truth would certainly stun them. Yet...
A maiden’s heart is sometimes easily swayed.