{The visit from the orphanage / fly in the sky without getting burned}
The next morning, Anastasia faced a barrage of classes. Punctuality was essential. Hannah helped her ready herself.
"You don't want to be late. That wouldn't be good for a first impression," Hannah noted.
Anastasia still felt bad about the Emperor's assessment of her "powers." Mrs. Harper's words from yesterday echoed in her mind: a lady without her powers is like a duck without its head.
Anastasia was in the middle of a history lecture when the double doors of the classroom burst open with a crash.
"GUINEVERE!" Charles yelled, his face a mask of frantic urgency.
"JESUS HOLY CHRIST!" Anastasia yelled back, jumping in shock.
Charles strode toward her, ignoring the scandalized gasps of the other noble ladies and the glaring Mrs. Harper.
"How did you know?" he demanded, his voice low and dangerous.
"What are you talking about?" Anastasia asked, utterly confused.
."Don't play coy with me," he growled, grabbing her arm hard enough to bruise.
"I don't understand what you're saying," Anastasia replied, struggling against his grip.
He pulled her outside the classroom, dragging her into the deserted hallway.
Everyone stared after them in a mix of surprise and confusion.
"Your... Highness... I... Am... In... The... Middle... Of... Class," Anastasia tried to plead, but her words were caught in her throat.
He pulled her outside the castle walls, into the open air of a secluded courtyard.
"Start talking."
"About what? Did I do something wrong? Did Hannah take the wrong blanket off again?" she asked, desperate to deflect the intensity of his gaze.
"How did you know Luke would kill himself?" Charles asked, the pain in his voice raw.
"Who in the Lord's name is Luke?" she asked.
Charles grabbed her neck tightly, lifting her slightly off her feet. Anastasia tried to break free.
In her struggle, she touched his hands, and that strange, visionary feeling was back again, a rush of images and truths.
"You did save him, didn't you?" Anastasia said, her voice changing, becoming distant and knowing as the vision took hold.
"I thought you would listen to your brother and let the wizard die. Clever little prince in love with his wizard. I wonder if he knows how you feel, or if he will feel disgusted by it. Hmmm, time will tell, although I would like to see how it ends."
Charles released her instantly. She fell to the ground, gasping hard for air, rubbing her throat.
"Is this the way things are being done here in this castle? A prince tries to kill someone for something they know nothing about and no one has the fucking guts to do anything? God damn it!"
Anastasia said in anger, her true, common self emerging under duress.
"You don't remember everything you say after a vision, do you?" Charles asked, his eyes wide with realization.
"Vision? What vision? His grace clearly stated that I don't have any magical powers. So what are you talking about?" Anastasia said, still clueless.
"Interesting," Charles muttered. He knelt down before her on one knee, ignoring her low status and the mud on the ground.
"What the hell are you doing? Stand up before they kill me!" Anastasia said, frantic that he was showing her such reverence.
"For helping me save the person I love, I would forever be in your debt," Charles said, his eyes intensely sincere.
"I will forever protect you from danger. You have my word."
"Dude, I don't even know this person you are talking about," she said, utterly bewildered.
Charles stood up, kissed her hand with a flourish, and left as abruptly as he arrived.
Anastasia walked to her room in a daze, shaking off the weird encounter. She flopped onto the bed.
"My lady, I just got a letter from the bank," Hannah said, entering the room.
"Bank? But I don't have an account," Anastasia said in surprise.
"I got you one, a personal and private one. The Count wouldn't know you had one to begin with," Hannah explained, ever the cautious servant.
"Sigh, what did they want?" Anastasia asked in exhaustion.
"Well, a huge sum of money was placed there."
"How huge?"
"A million gold coin huge."
"Gold? Like real gold? And a million of them?" she asked in bewilderment.
Hannah nodded. "But who deposited such a huge amount into this account of mine?" Anastasia asked in worry.
"The Emperor."
"What? Why?" she asked again.
"I don't know for certain," Hannah said.
"Fuck me," Anastasia whispered in frustration.
She decided to meet the Emperor. She found him sitting under a tree in the private garden, a book in his hand, peaceful despite the darkness that surrounded his reputation.
"Good morning, Your Grace," Anastasia said, curtsying.
"What do you want?" he asked without glancing up from his book.
"I was informed that you sent a huge sum to my account," Anastasia said, getting straight to the point.
Azriel read his book calmly, patiently waiting for her to demand more, expecting the same greed he saw in Luna.
"I don't mean to be disrespectful or anything, but I don't want your money." Azriel's hand paused midway, trying to flip the page.
Anastasia continued. "I don't know why you did it, perhaps it was an accident, but I won't sleep well knowing that such an amount is in my account. So I am here to tell you that I will return every coin back to you tomorrow morning."
Azriel was amused and fascinated. "If this is some kind of game to make me fall for you, then you had better look for another tactic."
"What the hell are you..." She paused, remembering he was the Emperor. "Your Grace, I am not some charity case you can throw money at. You might do this to other princesses or noble ladies, but I am not like them. And you speaking about making you fall for me? Please don't flatter yourself."
"I don't intend on marrying you, Your Grace. I was taught how to read the handwriting on the wall. I am only here because I don't have a freaking choice. It's either this or..." Anastasia paused mid-sentence, the memory of Benjamin making her stomach turn.
Azriel looked at her then, truly looked at her. He noticed she was suppressing tears.
"All I want is to coexist in your castle. I'll pass every exam, but I don't wish to get married to you. So, Your Grace, I don't want your money, I'm not your charity case. Excuse me." Anastasia curtsied and left.
Azriel closed his book in frustration, the heavy cover snapping shut. "How dare she talk to me like that? If it wasn't for the promise I made to Charles concerning that vision, does she think I'll pay any attention to her?"
The next day, Azriel attended a meeting with the royal knights concerning the recent attacks in the country.
"Your Majesty, we all know who is behind this," Zain, the strongest knight, said.
"Why don't we bring the war to their doorstep?" Daniel added, eager for conflict.
"That's exactly what he would want. Daniel, aren't you a royal knight? You ought to have studied your opponent by now," Liam said, rolling his eyes.
Azriel raised his hand to quiet them all.
"Andrew would want us to attack immediately. Let's keep him guessing. In the main time, double the guards. I don't want my guests to feel uncomfortable about this."
"Yes, Your Majesty," everyone said in unison. Azriel stood up and left the room.
"Your Majesty, how about we send spies to Sayllie?" Zain asked, following him out.
"Sending my subjects to Sayllie, the heart of the enemy, is out of the question," Azriel said, his tone tight with suppressed anger.
"I don't wish to repeat this topic, Zain."
Zain stood behind, watching Azriel walk out.
Azriel returned to his study, going through paperwork.
There was a knock on the door; it slowly opened to reveal Caleb, the treasurer, pushing a wheelbarrow containing several heavy bags.
"Your Majesty, this came for you," Caleb said.
"What is that?" Azriel asked.
"This is for you. A lady met me this morning, saying I need to give this to you, that it's urgent," Caleb said.
"Open it," was all Azriel could say.
Caleb opened one of the bags and gasped. "It's gold coins, Your Majesty, and there's a note." Caleb picked up the paper and read it aloud:
"I see you must have been bored yesterday to give this to me. I don't want your money or your attention. If you don't have something better to do with your money, then donate it to the orphanage. At least your people can benefit from your kind heart."
Caleb went silent, waiting for the Emperor's reaction.
Azriel sat down, his expression unreadable for a long moment.
"Caleb, take it to the orphanage. Make sure they receive it. Let them know it's from Guinevere Whitestone."
"As you wish," Caleb left, pushing the heavy load.
Anastasia was in another garden with the other ladies, learning proper table etiquette.
She poured tea without spilling a drop, passed plates gracefully, and maintained impeccable posture.
There was a commotion outside the garden gates. Children screaming and running.
"What is that dreadful noise?" Mrs. Harper asked, scowling.
It's children, Mrs. Harper," Miss Sunshine noted as a flurry of small figures burst through the garden gates, their teachers struggling to coordinate them.
"Alright, what is the meaning of this?" Mrs. Harper demanded furiously, her face twitching with annoyance at the disruption.
"We are terribly sorry, but if someone makes a donation, it's customary for us to personally thank them," a flustered teacher explained.
"Who could have possibly made a donation here?" Miss Sunshine asked, bewildered.
"Why cause commotion for just a little amount of money?" Mrs. Harper scoffed, assuming the sum was trivial.
"It's not a little amount, it's one million gold coins," another teacher replied, her voice filled with awe.
Anastasia felt her pulse drop to the soles of her shoes. The blood drained from her face. She knew this didn't sound good; all she wanted was to coexist like a ghost, invisible and safe.
Why is fate laughing at me? All I did was send a harmless letter to the Emperor, and now he does this to me? Why am I so unlucky?
"Go on then, who made the donation? We don't have all day," Mrs. Harper ordered impatiently.
Anastasia stood up, muttering something about going to the bathroom.
Honestly, she just wanted to disappear, desperate not to draw attention to herself.
"Lady Guinevere Whitestone," a teacher announced.
The name made Anastasia freeze on the spot. Everyone in the class stared at her, their eyes wide.
"You? You donated such an amount to the orphanage?" Miss Sunshine asked, astonished.
She faced them, slowly backing away. "It's just a small sum, I do it all the time to other orphanages; I didn't expect them to come here," Anastasia said, the lie rolling off her tongue with practiced ease. She was pink from embarrassment.
A teacher approached her. "The children would like to sing for you."
"There is no need for that. I'll appreciate it if you just leave," Anastasia insisted awkwardly.
"Come on now, they came all this way; don't chase them away," Miss Sunshine said, oblivious to Anastasia's distress.
Anastasia ran her fingers through her hair in frustration.
"How about we do this someplace else? As you can see, we are in the middle of class," Anastasia said, trying to be diplomatic.
"Alright," the teacher agreed. "Children, let's go look for a more spacious place so we don't disturb their lectures."
"Okay!" All seventeen children chorused.
"If you're looking for a better place, then go to the West Wing; it's just opposite the main castle," Mrs. Harper whispered, eager for them to leave the garden.
"Someone kill me, please," Anastasia muttered to herself.
She eventually took them to the West Wing of the castle. It was a beautiful, spacious area with a lake beside it.
"Alright, children, let's take our places," the teacher yelled slightly. Anastasia sat down awkwardly, waiting for them to sing and get it over with.
The children began to sing, their voices pure and clear:
"We thank you for helping us through this hardship. We pray that the Lord keeps you safe and sound. We never knew someone thought about us today. We wish you long life and prosperity; we hope you get whatever you desire. And find someone to love you the same way you loved ussssss..."
Anastasia couldn't hold back the tears. She knew what it was like to be rejected by everyone, to feel invisible.
The children swarmed her, hugging her tightly, and she couldn't help but cry uncontrollably.
"Are you alright?" a little girl asked, looking up at her.
"Yes," she whispered back.
"Why are you crying?" a boy asked.
"Because your song was beautiful," Anastasia replied, wiping her eyes.
"You know, the children would love to spend some time with you," a teacher said kindly.
"Is that so?" Anastasia asked, a genuine smile replacing the tears.
"Yeah!" The children screamed in excitement.
"Alright, I'll have the kitchen prepare treats while we play," Anastasia said, calling a maid and asking her to bring cakes and pastries for everyone.
After eating, they all played till their hearts were content.
Hannah came to check up on Anastasia, having been informed of today's events. She was dumbfounded to see her mistress, Lady Guinevere's stand-in, playing in the mud.
"My lady, what are you doing?" Hannah asked in horror.
"Playing," Anastasia said with a laugh, mud smeared across her dress and face.
"You aren't supposed to be playing in mud, my lady! What about the people watching?" Hannah admonished.
"Come on, Hannah, live a little. I don't care what people think or say. This is the best time I've had in my entire life,"
Anastasia said, truly happy for the first time in years.
"Get out of the mud or else I'll make you!" Hannah said coldly, crossing her arms.
With a wicked grin, Anastasia pulled Hannah into the mud. "Attack!" she yelled to the children, and they all dragged Hannah through the dirt.
She screamed and begged for them to stop, but no one paid attention to her pleas.
"Lady Guinevere, who is this lady to you?" a boy asked, pointing at the struggling Hannah.
"I am her handmaiden," Hannah replied, spitting out mud.
"What does that mean?" a girl asked.
"I am her maid," Hannah sighed in defeat.
"She's not just my maid, she is my best friend, even if she denies it. She's like the sister I never had," Anastasia said, hugging the muddy Hannah tightly.
Hannah secretly picked up a handful of mud and rubbed it on Anastasia's face.
"I'm going to get you for that, you traitor!" Anastasia chased Hannah down. In that moment, she completely forgot about everything: the Count, the Emperor, the marriage, the sacrifice.
All that mattered was this moment of genuine, messy happiness.
Azriel stood by his study window, observing the view from the West Wing grounds.
The sight of the mud fight intrigued him.
"I see you are enjoying the show," Mrs. Harper said, walking into the room with Miss Sunshine.
"So it was your idea for her to be here?" Azriel asked, his gaze fixed on Anastasia.
"I wanted to know if she was faking the donation just to be recognized, but looking at this now, I have my doubts," Mrs. Harper admitted.
Azriel stood quietly. He had been observing Anastasia from the moment the children sang for her. Her every reaction intrigued him.
She didn't mind the fact that she was of noble blood like Luna; she just played with them like a child who had finally been given the freedom to be herself. She even dragged her maid into the chaos.
"She brought herself down and played with them in the dirt," Mrs. Harper said, a hint of respect in her voice.
"It's impressive," Miss Sunshine added.
"I guess we know who's staying this week," Azriel said, turning from the window and leaving the room.
The children left the castle later that evening. Anastasia hugged all seventeen of them, promising that she would stop by for a visit.
She looked at the muddy Hannah and laughed out loud.
"This isn't funny," Hannah said, trying to wipe some mud off her face.
"Says the person who played with dirt," Anastasia said with a giggle.
"Stop giggling," Hannah demanded.
"I'm sorry, I can't help it. You're just so adorable," Anastasia said. Hannah stormed off in anger.
"Okay, okay, I wouldn't giggle anymore," Anastasia said, trying to catch up to her friend.
Luna and three other girls appeared from nowhere, their dresses pristine, their expressions venomous.
"Who are you trying to impress, Guinevere?" Luna asked, her eyes raking over Anastasia's muddy appearance with disgust.
Anastasia stayed silent.
"You think the Emperor would notice you with this fake appearance of yours?" Luna sneered.
"Fake?" Anastasia challenged, stepping closer.
"I'm not the one who's fake. You're the one who's fake, with your fake relationship with the Emperor, the fake lifestyle. Look, Luna, I don't want trouble, okay?"
"The Emperor is mine," Luna stated, a dark edge to her voice.
"Yours?" Anastasia muttered the word; it tasted like trash.
"If he was yours, he wouldn't have called for a competition to find a bride. If he was yours, you wouldn't be begging for his attention. I know you too well; I know how clingy you can be."
"Unlike you, I have something called dignity and self-respect. Now I have more important things to do than to exchange words with a fly who thinks she can fly into the sky without getting burned."
Anastasia left with Hannah, leaving a fuming Luna in her wake.