Princess – Part 13
“What are you two doing up so early?” a voice called out from behind.
A brown-skinned woman appeared. Doris. Her hair was tousled from sleep, sticking out in all directions. She let out a wide yawn and shuffled over with an armful of weapons—spears, swords, and other dangerous-looking implements.
“Oh, Doris. Why are you up so early?”
“The storage still needs organizing. I was out cold the whole time, so I couldn’t help. I thought I’d get up early and finish the job.”
“That’s quite responsible of you.”
“Lady Charlotte was working while I slept. Least I can do is pull my own weight.”
Doris spread a cloth out on the lawn, laying the weapons she’d brought across it. Most were in poor condition—rusted, dusty, and clearly neglected.
Sitting cross-legged, she grabbed an arrow, brushed off the dirt, and began polishing the tip with a damp cloth.
“These are in awful shape,” Doris grumbled. “You could’ve at least aired them out.”
“Sorry. My family’s never been great at maintaining things like this.”
As Cecily watched Doris work, feeling slightly guilty, her eyes caught on something. Among the spears, daggers, arrows, sickles, and axes, one item stood out.
Arrows.
“Aria, can I ask you something?”
“Hmm? What is it?”
Doris watched quizzically as Cecily whispered her idea to Aria. Cecily couldn’t let her hear.
Aria’s eyes widened in surprise. “I see. An arrow, huh?”
“Yeah. What do you think? Is it possible?”
“I’ve never tried it, but I think it could work,” Aria replied, her brow furrowing. “But isn’t that dangerous? I can’t picture you being safe doing that.”
“I just want to see if it can be done. It might actually be feasible.”
“Ah!” Aria exclaimed. “What about a spear? It could work, inspired by an Infernal Blade.”
“That’s it!”
They were unexpectedly making progress with the application of wind. Cecily felt grateful to Doris for sparking this idea.
“I don’t really get what’s going on, but you’re welcome,” Doris said.
“I don’t feel like thanking you now.”
“Hah,” Doris chuckled, glancing at Aria. “I gotta say, you’re quite different from Evadne.”
“Me?” Aria blinked in surprise.
“Yeah. She always has a blank expression and speaks only the bare minimum. She doesn’t even crack a witty joke. You, on the other hand, show so much more emotion. I guess there are all sorts of Infernal Blades.”
“…”
Cecily realized Doris had a point. Though she had never met Evadne, the description seemed accurate. The girls’ Infernal Blades didn’t have the ability to transform into human forms or express themselves like Aria did. It was an interesting contrast, but it didn’t bother her much at the moment.
“All right, let’s try it right away—oh, wait.” Remembering Doris was nearby, she added, “First, let’s warm up with the usual routine. Aria, can you turn into a rapier?”
“Um, before that, can I ask you something?”
“Sure. What’s on your mind?”
Aria’s expression turned grave. “I want you to tell me about the Valbanill War.”
“The Valbanill War?”
“Yeah. I mentioned before that I was born during the war, but honestly, I don’t know much about the war itself. I only know bits and pieces—how people fought over land, how countless demons were created, and how Inhumans ran rampant. I was caught up in it but never really tried to understand it. I want to know what kind of war I was born into.”
“I actually don’t know all the details either.”
“Anything will do.”
For some reason, Aria pressed on, desperation in her voice. Cecily was stumped. She had no firsthand experience of the war. Her knowledge came from her grandfather’s stories relayed through her father. Did she know more than Aria, who had lived through it?
“Well, do you know why the Proxy Pact War was called the Valbanill War?” Aria asked.
“I do.”
“I want to know. Tell me.”
“Valbanill originally referred to an Inhuman.”
Valbanill was the name of the most infamous non-human creature in continental history, said to have roamed the land hundreds of years ago. Its existence had been confirmed as a historical fact, but the legends surrounding it were often exaggerated and dubious.
“It’s said to have crushed mountains, drank the sea dry, and was ultimately sealed away by a sword. There’s a lot of exaggeration, and how it actually lived is unclear. Fact and fiction have definitely blended together.”
“But it definitely existed, right?”
“Yeah. The details are fuzzy, but the notion of it being ‘the worst in continental history’ has definitely stuck. The name Valbanill itself has become synonymous with tragedy and eventually became an alternate name for the Proxy Pact War. That’s what my father told me.”
“…”
Aria pressed her fist against her mouth, lost in thought. “Valbanill,” she mumbled, spelling the name out.
“So, why did you want to ask?”
“I was just curious.”
Sensing something off, Cecily was about to press further, when Charlotte, still half-asleep, wandered into the garden.
“Doris,” she called.
Doris stood up and rushed over. “Good morning,” she greeted. “You’re up early.”
“Yeah… I woke up,” Charlotte mumbled drowsily. She clearly wasn’t a morning person either. Tugging on Doris’s sleeve like a child, she added, “I’m hungry.”
“All right. I’ll fix you up something. Cecily, that okay with you?”
“Yeah. Fio should be up soon too.”
“You heard her. Come on, Lady Charlotte.”
“Hmm… brush my hair later?”
“Of course. It’s my turn today, isn’t it?”
Doris, usually sharp-tongued, softened noticeably when speaking to Charlotte. Cecily couldn’t help but smile at their dynamic as they headed back inside, hand in hand.
Once they were gone, she turned back to Aria. She saw her friend’s usual smile had returned, the earlier troubled expression completely gone. They commenced training, testing out Cecily’s new idea.
“By the way, have you noticed how Luke moves?” Aria asked. “It’s different. Most people swing their arms opposite to their steps—right foot, left arm, and vice versa. But Luke moves his right arm with his right foot, and his left arm with his left. His whole body stays in sync.”
“Now that you mention it…”
“That lets him glide his feet naturally, and he can do quick turns easier. He uses his whole body to maneuver.”
“You have great eyes.”
Aria chuckled. “Should we try it?”
“Absolutely!”
And just like that, Cecily missed her chance to dig deeper into Aria’s earlier question.
A few days slipped by in the blink of an eye.
That morning, the sky was heavy with clouds, as if it could break into tears at any moment.
Once again, everyone had gathered in the mayor’s office in the Third District of the Independent Trade City: Housman, Hannibal, Charlotte and her three attendants, Cecily, and Aria. Luke and Lisa had sent word that they wouldn’t be attending, distancing themselves from the situation.
“A letter came from the Empire,” Housman said, seated at his desk, as he handed over a tube.
Charlotte nodded, accepting it. She opened the lid and pulled out a single sheet of paper from the tube. Her eyes scanned the page in silence.
Feeling impatient, Doris spoke up. “Lady Charlotte, what does it say? What’s the Empire’s response?”
With her eyes obscured by her hair, Charlotte began reading aloud in a flat tone.
“There is no member of the imperial family by the name of Charlotte E. Firobisher.
The individual in question is an impostor who stole Infernal Blades from the Imperial Warriors.
Furthermore, the treasured sword is a counterfeit. Both it and the other Infernal Blades in her possession are to be handed over to the Empire immediately.
The offenders will be punished severely under imperial law.”
Silence weighed down the room.
Doris clenched her fists, Margot bit her thumbnail with her bright red lips, and Penelope placed a hand on Charlotte’s shoulder. Charlotte kept her head down, motionless.
This response wasn’t entirely unexpected. The Empire had banished Charlotte, labelling her as the child of a mistress. There was no reason to believe they would suddenly rush to her defense now. Whether the sword was truly a fake or the imperial family simply denied its authenticity, no one could say for certain.
But then why? Cecily gritted her teeth. If the Empire wanted nothing to do with Charlotte, why give the sword in the first place?
Was it meant as a small token of comfort for Charlotte’s late mother after she was tossed aside? If so, it was more trouble than it was worth. Without that sword, Charlotte might never have set out on this path. She and her attendants could have lived quietly, far from the Empire’s reach.
Now, they were branded as criminals impersonating royalty. The city would be forced to hand them over to the Empire. Regardless of the fate that awaited them.
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