2.

Flowers. Beautiful and in different shapes and types were growing on vines on the walls of the manor. They were in perfect condition and so were the walls of the manor. There was no rot in sight. They flowers were just… there.

“By the Goddess…” Leona breaths out, taking in the beauty of the inner walls of the manor, amazed. The outside look of the manor was magnificent but the inside, it was beyond marvelous. “This is a top tier Floramancy,” she mutters under her breath.

“Oh? You know about the tiers of Floramancy?”

Leona lets out a startled grunt, surprised to see the Blackwater lady beside her. She gives a tiff nod in answer.

“My Ward-sister, Liliane, is an Elemental. She’s currently serving as an Apprentice under Lodol Yelex.”

Arkona lets out a hum of surprise, eyebrows rising up. “The Supreme Mage of Mithra?”

“Yes.”

It takes just a second for Leona to realize that she’s walking fast, and she slows down. She’s about to pause and wait for her grandmother and uncle, but Arkona striking up a conversation with her prevents that from happening.

“It’s rare to see an Elemental. Impossible even, much less in an Empire that has a small percentage of Magis in its population. Pray tell, what element does she have control over?”

“All four.”

“All four elements?” Arkona says in surprise, brows arching higher. “If she possess all four, that means her control over them isn’t perfect as one would have over one.”

Leona nods. “Although, she does have trouble controlling water, air and fire. But in Floramancy, she’s a prodigy. I’m certain that if she would’ve been here, she will be gushing over this.” She waves her hands, gesturing at the walls.

Arkona hums, staring at her. “You see, this manor was pretty beat up when I acquired it,” she begins. “The walls were on the brink of decay and vines covered them. It turns out that no one has bought the manor after the mysterious death of the precious owners. I saw it and fell in love with it. And I decided to buy it and renovate it with the help of my Floramancer maid, Heityr, and also with my own hands. To the disapproval of my son of course.” She lets out a chuckle behind her hand.

“A lady of your reputation shouldn’t do the jobs of others, mother. If father were around, he would have tied you to a chair and assign others to do it.” Aeron sighs out.

Leona bites the inside of her bottom lip in order to hold in a snort, while her uncle and grandmother purse their lips in distaste. The maid and butler trailing after them out right snorted at what the heir said.

“Honestly, you men and your overprotectiveness…” Arkona huffs out, smile still on her lips. “You’d think I married a guard dog and not a man.”

Leona allows a smile, albeit a sad one, to grace her lips. Her mother used to say the same thing when she was alive.

Due to her deceivingly frail statue, her father tried to prevent her from doing certain things. Hell, even sword practice between mother and daughter was limited due of her father’s paranoia. From what she remembered, it got her mother irritated and amused at the same time. Her mother always teased him of his overprotectiveness, which will eventually lead to their usual banter.

Leona’s smile edged to that of bitterness.

After all these years, her memories, although distorted, are still bittersweet.

“By the way, Leona,” Arkona’s voice breaks the teen out of her thoughts, making her look at her matriarch with a questioning gaze. “Are there any more members of the Redfyre clan?”

“I am not sure about that, my lady. My mother, who was from the main branch and the heiress, told me that we were scattered abroad, but dwindling. The bloodline is close to total extinction, according to her. And sadly, no one has come forward and made themselves know to me.” Leona exhales, internally wondering why Lady Arkona was asking her this.

“I see. That is truly sad.” Arkona says with a monotone voice.

“If I may, Lady Arkona, why do you ask?” Leona queries with a curious tilt of her head.

“Well, you see, I had a friend who was from the main branch of the Redfyre clan. She was a spit fire, that woman.” Arkona lets a light chuckle. “She too was from the main branch of the family, although wasn’t too keen on shouldering a clan. And so, she decided to disappear. We met by fortune and I never regret my path crossing with her.”

“She’s… dead, isn’t she?” Leona breaths out, voice bearing a tint of sorrow. Hearing that another member of her mother’s clan was lost to Death, once again, was disheartening.

“Yes. She died a few years back.” Arkona sighs heavily. “Death, as usual, has not a speck of pity for anyone. Not even those who have extinct bloodlines flowing through their veins. It is just and perfect. We all live and one day, we all will inevitably die. From the Mother we came and, when it’s time, to her we go. Eternal sleep. Humans have limited time up here and it is highly advised that their lifespan is used wisely. In the end, we all perish and turn to dust. We can only cherish the memories of those lost and loved. That is all.”

Leona stares intently at Arkona, amazed by her way of thinking. Here stood before her someone, apart from her sister and brother, who viewed Death as just and right, and not the bloody tyrant They are pictured to be. What’s even surprising is that the woman didn’t flinch nor show a speck of fear like others do when talking about it. Leona lips quirks a little. Huh… looks like she might get along with Arkona after all.

The group walks in a pregnant silence after that. No one uttered a word after Arkona’s speech, all deciding to just settle with the not so comfortable nor uncomfortable silence that blanket them. Soon, they are walking down a grand hallway which had various portraits and paintings on the walls. Leona takes them all in, marveled by the artworks. By the corner of her eye, a painting catches her attention. She hurriedly averts her eyes to it, not once looking away as they continue their journey.

‘Wow… what a wonderful art style… and the frame… is it made out of gold?’ Leona internally ponders, still musing over the painting they just walked by. ‘Although, I wonder what the story is all about…’

Further down, there are other paintings. Some light and others dark. Amongst them are portraits of – what Leona could guess – the Blackwater family. Some are of only Arkona; others of her and Aeron; others of her with three specific unknown people and various other.

But there’s one that makes a shiver crawl down her spine and she doesn’t know why. The portrait has Arkona, Aeron, the three people found in other portraits and an unknown male in it. The male’s face is shadowed; even though the hallway is bright. The portrait gives off an eerie aura.

Leona doesn’t dare to look back, having the feeling that something about that portrait isn’t right.

After many turns, the group reached their destination. The butler and maid, who followed them, opened the doors for them, heads bowed.

“Please, come in and sit.” Arkona gestures at the elegant couches in the study and the three Vermilions nodded in thanks. The seats were soft and beyond comfortable. Marbethta wondered if they managed to stuff a cloud in it.

“By the Lord, what heavenly texture.” Marbethta sighs out as she sat comfortably on a couch, her son and granddaughter on each sides of her. “Pray tell, Lady Blackwater, who commissioned such marvelous furniture for you? I must purchase one or two from them.”

“Comfortable, isn’t it?” Marbethta nods, a faint smile on her lips. “Well, they were made by one of my Wards, Seyla. She made most of the furniture found in my household. Even the frames of the portraits were made by her. She’s blessed with the gift of creativity, and as the days go by, I don’t regret making her one of my wards.”

“I beg your pardon, my lady, but did you just say that most of these artistic furniture were made by… a woman?” Caelum queries, lips pursed together. The tone of his voice didn’t hid his blatant disbelief and obvious disgust.

Leona quashes the urge to face palm. As usual, her uncle is being a sexist pig. And it looks like she isn’t the only one that sees right through his polite tone, seeing as Arkona and Aeron fixes him with a distinctly unimpressed look.

“You would come to find out, Mr. Caelum, that in other empires, women are not suppressed as they are here. Just like I and several other women on this blue and green floating rock, Seyla is talented and has made millions due to her artistic skills. Unlike this backwater area and it’s equally backwater people, Seyla is well-known and popular for her works outside this border. All my wards are. So, woman or not, Seyla is a success. An independent one at that. Can you say the same for yourself?” Arkona says all these with a calm smile and an unknown glint in her eyes.

Leona mentally claps at the matriarch’s reply, biting the inside of her lower lip to keep herself from snorting in amusement.

Not only did she defend her ward and praised her skills, she even managed to insult everyone – her uncle especially. This woman is simply too much. Leona couldn’t find it in herself to be offended by the jab thrown at them.

“I apologize for my son's unsought words, Lady Blackwater. It’s not every day one sees the work of a rare and talented woman. He was just surprised that’s all.” Marbethta hastily says. “Weren’t you, darling?” She gives her son a sharp, meaningful look, which makes his back to straighten and nodding in confirmation.

“I apologize if I offended you with my words, my Lady. I was just baffled, that is all.” Caelum utters politely through his teeth, giving their hosts a small bow of his head.

“See to it that it doesn’t happen again.” Arkona sharply demands. “I don’t deal kindly with those who insult the people under my protection. To insult them is to insult me. And believe me when I say, Mr. Caelum, I don’t take insults lightly.” She levels a cold look at the male Vermilion.

Once again, the atmosphere becomes tense and at the moment, Leona has the urge to scrub a hand down her face in exasperation.

Honestly, how dumb can her uncle be?

It’s clear that the Blackwaters aren’t the average Highbloods of Durien. They look – and feel – like the type of family to take no shit from anyone; not even from them, who were one of the major descendants of the founding king of their empire.

Before the tension could get thicker than it already was, the butler and the maid walks back in, along with two other extra maids. Each maids are holding a tray containing two teapots, cups, snacks and spoons wrapped in napkins. They bow their heads once they enter the room before dropping off their luggage on the well-designed table in the middle of the room.

“Tea?” Arkona asks her guests, gesturing at the tray before her.

“That will be quite lovely, Lady Blackwater.” Marbethta replies with an incline of her head.

Arkona flicks a hand at their direction and the servants went to work, and once they were done, each of them had a steaming cup of tea, or in Aeron’s case, coffee, in their hands. Leona optioned for the vanilla-honey tea, Marbethta a lemon green tea, and Caelum a ginger tea.

After serving them, the extra maids bow again before taking their leave, leaving the Blackwater’s and Vermilions to sip their tea in silence while the maid and butler waited in the background.

“Thank you for the refreshment, Lady Blackwater.” Marbethta says in a silky tone when she was done. “It was splendid.” She hands her empty cup to the maid who walks over to collect it.

“You are welcome, Lady Vermilion.” Arkona dips her head, a faint smile on her lips. Leona and Caelum also drop their empty cups in the tray, also thanking the Lady of the house.

“Now, Lady Blackwater, there are things we need to discuss concerning the betrothal-” Marbethta starts, but is cut short by Arkona raising up a hand.

“Please, stop right there Lady Vermilion.” Arkona wryly smiles. “That can wait until after our lunch. Just because I invited you for the betrothal arrangement doesn’t mean that we will dive straight into it immediately. Besides, the Notary is yet to arrive.” She then turns to her son, a soft smile on her lips. “Why don’t you show Miss Leona around, Aeron? Just the common places in the manor will be enough.”

Aeron places his cup on its saucer with a soundless sigh. “Yes mother.” He drawls smoothly before getting up. He holds out his unfinished tea and the maid whisks it away from his hand with grace.

Aeron walks away from the couch and from his mother’s side, and head towards the direction of the door. He turns and faces the seated guest, a hand on his chest and holds out the other at Leona’s direction. “My Lady.”

Leona blinks owlishly at the hand extended to her, her mind momentarily blank on what to do. She’s snapped back to the present by her grandmother calling out to her. She faces the hag, an eyebrow raised.

“The Young Lord is waiting for you E- Leona.” Marbethta informs her. Leona snorts internally at her hasty correction. “It is rude to keep him waiting.” Marbethta says with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes; it’s looks more of a grimace than anything else.

Leona breaths a silent sigh of exasperation before gracefully standing up. She hold a side of her dress with her left hand, carefully as always so not to trip over and fall face first.

Honestly, she shouldn’t have allowed Marbethta to pick a dress for her. She’s so done with her grandmother’s old dresses; which are unnecessarily long, as well as heavy and uncomfortable.

Dear Helma, what’s the need for the tight corsets sewn in the dresses? Is the woman trying to squeeze out her organs or something?

The heiress walks over to the Blackwater heir with the grace of a true Highborn; eyes never straying away from him. She places her red gloved hand into his – which is also clad in black, fitting leather gloves – and he gently grips it.

With a tilt of his head to his mother, Aeron leads Leona out of the study.

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