Sol prefers milk after finishing her cup of tea with Ober finishing his fifth, “You are crazy for tea huh,”
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Ober raises his brows, “Milk, eh?” flinging his fingers for the kettles and cups to appear again, pouring for the princess and refilling Ober’s “200 years and you are still a cowtit”
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“I am not.”
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“Then why ask for the udders?”
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“Because I like that, no questions.” Sipping her milk, her black fingernails elegantly holding the bottom and sides of the cup “Same as how you like tea. But I don’t get it too often—mmn, this is sweet…”
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“I recreated it with recipe from the underground plateau, you should visit there sometimes.”
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“Too busy, “
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10 minutes pass and they are riding down the hill. The dark horses galloping gallantly on the three smaller hills with the forests on the side of the road. Fading to shrubs at their ends for a clearing opening to the vast Saharan wide plains. Native barbarians walk around the road with barely any coverings and they are the only people that the horses swerves and fears to trample. Sometimes going for a sharp turn.
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“Princess,” Ober starts again, hoping that he can get off her ‘has to stare at closely and inspect list’. She is starting at him, way too much that he might get nightmares of monsters with purple eyes and white ringed irises. “You can ask me anything…”
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And her heated tongue does not hesitate, even with a face that looks like the stone ceramic cup she holds, if the stone cups were to have a face at all. “Then, why did you come back?
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“Well, I know that I can consider the entirety of Cyndoryll my home but Kinguin is where most of my happy days are and where I can remember what home truly feels like for m---”
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“Lies,” grunting and cogging her shoulder, “Tell me honestly,”
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Once again, she stares at him. Why did he even bothered indulging her? Ober rubs around his seat as if he drank a live fly instead of tea and the drive has gotten rocky with ups and downs of smaller hills. Nauseous, absolutely nauseous even though he expected it not to. “I wanted to meet with the princesses.” It is very uncomfortable when you just want to have tea with someone and suddenly you become their interview victim.
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“And why?”
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“If you look around” Ober gestures, and pulls a thread by the arch windows. Its panes slide open for the moving tall grass and bleached bones of the dead—either Hemrean or animal. Vultures hawk the grey sky. “you'll see what I mean. Kinguin feels a bit...downcast, wouldn't you say? Even when I was at the mountain ranges, it seems like a dark cloud hangs over the capital. Remember when it was always bathed in sunshine, like a kingdom forever in spring? Now, compared to those days...well, Kinguin might as well be a part of the gloomiest island in all of Djahatis.”
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“I see that,” she says with a sigh
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Which Ober sucks his cheeks in and turns his brows down to the dark purple carpet that fluffs their feet, “How is the House?” Taking his chance to turn the conversation,
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“What about those black horses? You didn’t have them before”
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“Baah” this interrogation is slowly thirsting him for his seventh tea. “
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“Oh uh, House Sanguiris…” She says, and clearly not looking like she understood what the lord magister meant, “You mean the entire tree?”
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“No, I meant the mansion.”
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“The servants are taking care of it.”
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“Have you ever gone back?”
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“Why would I?”
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Ugh, this is one problematic princess. But Ober knows that the other three are clouds above her level. “You should at least check it once in a while. Your father cherished it for you.”
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“He did say. In the future when I will have a spouse and kids. But I don’t want to.”
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“Why?”
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Sol turns to look at the plains and wandering native barbarians—three children with two male adults reminding her of family, “Kids are a mess. What about you lord magister?”
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“Me!?” Ober’s eyes grow wide, not being able to recall any relationship other than the distant past. “There was one but no kids.”
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“Okay,” She stares outside again before saying, “Can you get to the point already?”
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“I…” The lord magister looks like he had dropped his precious necklace. There was obviously a point he wanted to tell her but, why did he even try when he already knew. “Okay, as I said about Kinguin before, I would like to host a festival.”
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“All of a sudden?”
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“I have to” Ober nods, “It is to uplift the people and, remind the other nations that Cyndoryll still remembers their ancient roots.”
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“What kind of festival?”
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“Have you heard of title Mayfairy?” Sipping his tea, buying his time.
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Which Sol notices and simply says, “No”
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Quick of her to do so too that the lord magister blow bubbles in his tea, “Well,” he starts, “Mayfairy is the title given for those who are recognized in Dais ah Mægfæge. It is one of Kinguin and Queenuin’s most ancient festivals that celebrates the sprites and spirits.”
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“A celebration for those pests?” Sol says in a sharp tongue on the word ‘pest’
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And Ober’s silver gaze does not take it too kindly. He closes his glare, sipping tea, “I ask for all the princesses in Kinguin to participate and hold it as our own festival. To give yourselves a recognition that will be highly regarded in history.” He got a bit theatrical at the end, “I’d love for your opinion, princess Sol.”
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Sol looks at the lord magister and says, “Talk to Giza. You only need her opinion.”
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“But your presence needs to be utmost legitimate” The sun reaching a quarter before peak.
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“I will participate. But, only in the festival. You don’t need me in your preparations.”
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“But a princess’s role is of greater influence than mine—”
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“I am not a princess. You all just think that I am but I am not.”
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But Ober does not give in to Sol’s attitude, “A princess, coronated and ascended to be one will always be a princess. They who are second in position for queen and viable to rule a kingdom. You all will become a beacon of inspiration for the people, worthy of their respect and admiration. You don’t have to do it for yourself. The other kingdoms must recognize Kinguin’s High crown legitimacy and capability of as a Kingdom capital. In its current state, tour ancestors would be deeply troubled. Hence why I would be hosting this year’s May festival, wishing for Kinguin’s princesses to have a prominent role especially in the recognition of the concordants.”
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“I know, and don’t put the unnecessary pressure on me” In a sulky way as how an adopted child should not be put to blame, while also considering it. Keeping her thoughts of the royalty holistically. Plus, the heresy that befell upon her. But at the same time, glad lean back and relax.
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Ober looks like he is about to explode in his old magister garments and traditions of his which honestly, Sol does not care.
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“Save your special words and rambling for those maniacs—except for Thean of course. I don’t wish to be logged as that stone faced and witch.” And she goes on and on about her dissatisfaction with her sisters and work.
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“I understand your frustration but please do not talk when your mouth is full. It is unsightly. And terribly so when it is just bread and tea...”
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“Those soldiers back at the fort,” Dazing her gaze on Ober’s shimmering bald head,
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“What about them?”
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“Ruffians, gripers and cowtits who are still looking for their mothers. They don’t follow my orders even though they know I am royal. And that captain—Which I am still sorry for because I didn’t know you sent him lord magister, but it serves him right to be fed to Dramescula’s sperm.”
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Obe’s brows are unsure whether to frown or to nod affirmatively. “Dramescula’s sperm…?” He could not help repeating it. “So, how long has it since you started working there?”
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“130” she gestures, letting a sigh of satisfaction, “I am a senior and much better than anyone and that old man”
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“You’ve sparred with sire Sanguiris?” Appalled eyes sizing up at the Princess’s silver armor that is only battered by a few dusts and bents.
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“of course!” toning out her thrill and excitement, “He was strong but already weak. Disappointing really.”
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“He is still your old man who managed to keep on saving you. I doubt that without him, the princess in front of me would be a different lady.”
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“…” take a gulp and finding a corner for her eyes to settle, but she can’t so she closes them, “How long have known about it?”
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“Since Princess Thean asked about all forms of blood and curse magic.” Ober watches Sol downs her head,
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“I see” She says, tapping her feet, “She’s still trying to help me…”
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“She is your friend, and you don’t seem to have anyone else but her.”
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“No…”
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Sipping his tea, “Not even the caring mother?”
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“She’s second to Sol, and I doubt she knows about it.”
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“Knows?” Taking notice of the princess’s words, before realizing that Sol said that she never left the fort ever since she started working as a gatekeeper. “Have you heard about her?”
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“Ever since the cathedrals rung their bells, no. I have not. I don’t even know why the cathedrals rung them, and father did not want be knowing.”
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“Even Princess Thean?”
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“What are you trying to say? I hate thinking you know.”
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“The queen’s passing”
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Sol’s head shoots up, riveting her gaze before leaning in. And a gasp or a sigh escapes her dry dark lips. “I have not…” She tries her composure but only met with a clench fist and a lowered voice, “And since when?”
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“Along with the High King” Ober cruelly continues only to assure himself that the princess is hooked into his words
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“Since when?” Sol repeats, chin lowered for her sockets to turn into hollow, “I did not know…nobody reported it to me”
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“...well thanks me, now you know.” Still observing,
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Raising her voice, “Answer the question!”
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And at that, Ober calmly discloses. Using his magic to visualize a cartoon scene. “Fill yourself it with your servants once you have reached the House. For mine, three years ago, at midnight. The howling of Monsefrius and Quenifir shook the entire Kinguin Capital. I even heard them when I was far out to the northern borders near Fa’Yore. And I knew from how they howled, that something was amiss. They would not howl that loud, nor would they sound agitated. And I received a letter immediately the day after, announcing the passing of the most caring queen and the high king. It made me question of how?
Murdered? Poisoned? Assassinated? Why so sudden? And why did the letter come immediately after?”
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Sol nods in understanding to Ober’s questions,
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“They still do not know who did it and so it remains down in history as one of the biggest crimes in Kinguin.”
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“Why…three years ago I was at the fort. But I never heard the howl…”
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“It was only for a minute”
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“Still, I did not hear them, nor father.”
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Ober’s silver eyes remain studying, finding a conclusion to himself that he fumbles around his pockets and acting as if he is really looking for something.
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“But Monsefrius and Quenifir” Sol continues, “They should be able to! Are they not mythical beasts!?”
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“It was found that they were tranquilized by a liquid that is found on all slumbering beasts. Something that is chained cast after a muzzle and an all-silence spell. It is a complex sequence and only hexers from the Dark West knows the secret of why all beasts are slumbering lest an Absternicous...So, my guess is that the culprit comes from the dark west. Quite baffling because no one in Cyndoryll has ever been suspicious.”
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“You ought to be vigilante lord magister.” The princess says, resting her forehead forwards on clasped hands, “But…You would have sensed them--” thinking about the culprit being from the Dark West.
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“If they entered and left through my barrier, yes…”
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“No, I mean, inside the capital. You have layers of protective barriers installed right?”
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“Perceptive of you,”
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“Rumen found out,”
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“Oh, as expected of that witch! But yes, I’d still have sense them still if they were inside the kingdom...”
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“So, you know! You know who the culprit is!”
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“Hey, stop jumping to conclusions”
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“You would have known because he is in your barrier!”
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“I placed a protective type ward, not entirely a barrier and certainly not able to sense anything inside.”
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“Useless! And I am sure that Stone faced never caught the culprit? Why!?”
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“Sit down” The lord magister utters in a low murmur, with a tone that he uses on someone other than royals. “Do not act as if you care.”
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“But I do!”
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“You do care? Then why are you smiling?”
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Indeed, Sol has been smiling since she raised her voice. Yet she adamantly demands that she cares for them. So, she just simply liked that they are gone? It is twisted, but it is also exactly why Ober had disclosed it. He keeps staring at the psycho, knowingly as he adds. “The current High Royal House is as good as dead with how those three rules. Trampling on my Master’s castle, beheading the stones, letting a high criminal escape and forgetting the Noirs.”
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“Still rambling on about them lord magister? Aren’t they dead?”
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“They are still out there, but not daring enough to show their faces—to bring back their lost glory. I will be the one to do so.”
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“Hehehe, something about you sure is interesting. But why did you have to gruel yourself to a labor such as barrier repair? We could have just had tea.”
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“While your children run around and burn Cyndoryll’s villages and kingdoms? I only spared much for you.”
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“And you think you are generous?”
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“Your children think,”
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“And all for what? Tell me already what role you can give me. Why did you save me?”
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Ober sighs, tired of this woman’s hissing, “Let Sol do my bidding first then, you will know through her.”
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“Ugh, then what will you have her do? I can force her.”
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“That is unlike you.”
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“I am impatient unlike her and I certainly would not want that orange haired princess to know.”
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“She already knows long before you even knew yourself.”
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“Ugh, that explains why I feel eyes on my back…”
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“Oh really?”
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“It is either her or someone else. Cannot tell.”
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“Be sure to be ready”
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The woman groaning her growl, “And here I was finally excited for short tea break. I nor Sol, never get this luxury. Though she favors milk too much…”
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“…”
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Minutes pass for the moon to hide in the clouds. The carriage rides uphill a mountain before stopping in the front yard garden of a dark five story mansion. Its towers pointed with flags standing full. Isaac dutifully tells to the passengers that they have arrived, before opening the carriage door. Ober walks out first before the princess; her armor hangs by her forearms. Glinting by the sun over their heads. Sol looks up, not a smile growing as she greets her mansion that she has returned. While Ober looks at the rows of flags on the tip of the pointed brick roof, not a single one is a flag that he wanted to see. All of them bearing the symbol of a crown with its hands formed like three towers. Two have a faded color forming five towers connecting to a base that looks like the hilt of a sword. Their dirt washed fabrics flapping in the free cold gusts.
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“Well, princess. I am truly delighted to see you again, fair and beautiful.”
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“You have yet told me of any task regarding Dais ah Mægfæge…”
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“OH! I truly forgot, old of me.” He fumbles in his robe’s pockets saying that he was not forgetful when he was young before taking out his notepad and tearing a piece of paper. “House Sanguiris is well connected with dancers, jesters, and other entertainment. I’m sure the head servant will know and help you invite them. You may also invite any royal you know from other kingdoms, or personally invite someone. Anyone, is free to join in the fun. Think of this as a break from your gatekeeping duties, Princess Sol. I hope you will be off well.”
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Sol takes the piece of paper and nods, “You too” she says before waving her hands goodbye with the carriage wheels off on the dirt road. Sol looks up again at the entire mansion, seeing shadows in the windows that disappear when she blinked her eyes. She thinks nothing of it, and heads into the mansion feeling glad at the same time having her hand on the hilt of her waist strapped sword.
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“Welcome home, milady” The head servant greets her with a smile and fangs that she does not remember him having,
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“Milady?” Sol asks cautiously, “Who?”
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“Our great Milady Mother of course, Who else?”
ns 15.158.61.20da2
