章 8: 07: A Subtle Game
Wartime was a cutthroat tragedy, a desperate gambit between lifeless pawns forced to play marionette by heartless masters. While Breacia was not at war, rather in an age of tentative peace, the ruthless noble court was where war games took place. For Breacia and its allies, the most valuable and yet risky battlefield was that of the annual Ball.
In years past, the erstwhile Lore had only looked over the war game, thoughtless and without intent. While she followed paths made by sleuthing hands and gouges made by malicious words hidden beneath a layer of avarice, she herself cared little and did not participate.
The court was a place of subtleties, and while Lore knew that, she could not appreciate it. Sometimes, even as she ensnared the deepest intricacies, more obvious things were like ripples over water when you were a thousand meters down in the deep. Her eyes saw the hidden blades, but the maw of a fisherman's line was a jagged thing indeed.
Addicus and her where alike in the way, he oblivious to subtelty and she to the obvious. They fit together like a jigsaw puzzle, matched and made whole from an inarticulate mess.
A battle of words indeed, warring factions competing for the most dire scraps of gossip.
This game, a game she knew that was yet distantly familiar, would be starting within mere hours. The few remaining bruises had still yet to heal, and the jagged fangs of grief still loomed over her, threateing to swallow her up into a pitiable abyss. Yet, she would survive. Lore would come out on top with fresh kills, her teeth sharpened on the marrow of her prey. For herself, for her late King, for her family and the nation Lore was now charged to lead; for all these things, she'd have to.
Moonlight Palace was an enviable beauty as the sky was eclipsed by night. In these halls that were her home, she didn't feel quite so enviable on this day, as the Ball's first guests were soon arrive. These guests who made the shadows crawl and her heart tremor were Eagle Emperor and Emperor Huang Ruoxian. The fierce Hunter of the Ridge and the cold Lord of Blood Palace.
Lore looked forlorn in her ebony gown. A crown broke the sea of darkness, shifting ruby locks as it came to sit elegantly. It clashed with the paleness of her skin and the darkness of her dress, the pleatage of which shallowed further down the dress. Like a radiant sunbeam, if a sunbeam were to be made of shadow.
While the dress was smooth and the long sleeves of it slipped down her arms elegantly, the crown was jagged and profound. The dichotomy didn't sit right; the deep black dress did not fit with the crown. The crown did not fit with her place of mourning as it gleamed, daring her to find something that matched it rather than the death of her husband.
A shallow crown, the delicate and frail weight of something that meant so much. To wear her husband's crown so soon after his death was laughable, but she had to. As a Queen, even if a crown mocked and laughed in the face of her grief she must wear it amongst the blessed disparity of mourning black.
A Queen was to mourn delicately, carefully balancing the grief with the meagre sanctity of a crown. If she didn't force them to match, bend the crown to her will, Lore would not truly face a Queen's mourning. Yet, as it was different from the mourning of the people, she felt an outcast in her own skin as the crown warred against her sensibilities.
It was a bitter thing, but perhaps Lore was bitter now too.
Sighing, she adjusted the crown amongst reeds of blood one last time. She'd spent enough time moping in silence, hoping for something to break it or she would break first. But it was not her place to wallow.
Resisting a shudder, she called for her maid. "Camila. I'm ready now."
The aged maid, skin somewhat saggy and hair stark white, had an almost unnatural kindness. Her hands were inherently gentle, her eyes glinted with love, and she was unmistakably benevolent. Even so, Camila's kindness only served to put Lore on edge this time. On anyone else, it would be a sickness.
With a gentle hand, Camila lead her to the main hall, placing a delicate handful of Gladiolus, Iris, and Ivy. Flowers meaning faith in strength, loyalty. Lore held them carefully in her arms, cradled as one would a babe.
With one final deep breath a sublte shudder of trepidation, her face became an immutably silent mask. Then and only then did Camila open the door to Moonlight Palace's garden Eagle Emperor and Emperor Huang were waiting, the earliest of rivals. A prelude to the Ball, a show of alliance between nations.
Detaching the hand that cradled the neck of the bouquet, Lore dipped into the shallow curtsy demanded of Queens by other nations' sovereigns. "Greetings, Emperors. I'm sure you have traveled far." She was careful not to address one before the other. "May we have this bouquet?"
"We may, Queen Bonaventura." Eagle Emperor said, voice a low rumble muffled slightly by his nation's customary mask.
Huang Ruoxian elegantly removed a pipe from his lips, a stand of newly planted forget-me-nots and marigolds matching the gold and blue of his decorated hanfu. "We may, Queen Bonaventura."
Once the words of Breacia tradition were spoken, the petals of the flowers were torn away by an unseen force, twirling between the three in a miniature whirlwind. Then they dispersed, floating delicately in the air as they came to coat Moonlight Palace in impossible numbers.
"May your lands always bloom fruitfully," Lore said, performing a final curtsy. From the line of her wrist to the way her wair twisted with the movement, every stretch of her was grace. She allowed relief to briefly whisper into her heart and soul. This tradition was ceremonial of continued alliance, and the break of an alliance indicated war. Of course, that alliance wasn't absolute, but those that broke it tended to face hardship during years of wartime. Even still, it meant Breacia was still a little safer, that the alliances with Bird Empire and Akagi Empire still held strong.
Now it was time to greet the court, mostly consisting of Breacia's nobles even in this time of cautious meeting between nobility. Lore led them to Moonlight Palace, careful not to let unease show on her face, ricochet through her flesh and malign her every step like some unforseen disaster.
Eagle Emperor's crimson gaze, intense and saturated with curiosity, had not strayed from Lore even once.
クリエイターの想い 
Angela_Erdosy
Angela_Erdosy The start of the Ball arc! A shorter chapter, but I've been a bit busy and ended up splitting some things up so I don't end up lagging. There's a lot to do before Christmas break for me, especially since exams are right after.
As always, I thank you dearly for reading, and I hope from the furthest depths of my heart that you enjoyed this chapter. Or at least felt something other than nothingness, even if that something is vitriolic.
Emotions are feedback, feedback is feedback and it is something I am desperate for. Only my sister and a friend have given me any and I'm worried that you all are not enjoying it... more probably, you're just lurking. That's fine. Just know, suggestions, feedback, constructive criticism, thoughts, ideas, enjoyment and vitriolic comments are all welcome here. I'm desperate for even the worst of them. A little pitiful of me, isn't it?
週次パワーステータス
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