**Forgotten Worlds—Lorenzo Ferrara**
Serpentine
"Oh…." Serpentine gasped rather dramatically, removing her fingers from his collar, "so you bite as well, husband. Surely you didn't think that your fifteen year old wife was some dainty princess raised in ignorance? Sorry to disappoint." She said, backing away from him.
In a louder voice she spoke, "Making Elara Princess Royal will rightfully compensate for my ten years as a poor mother, drifting from region to region in search of a cure. Surely, you won't deny this poor woman this favour, your majesty?"
Giovanny continued breathing hard… but only for a few seconds. Then in a furious voice he declared. "Prince Cassian will hereby be crowned Heir to the Throne. While my first royal daughter, Elara Thorne, will be crowned Princess Royal."
Serpentine instantly tuned off the excited chatter in the room as she gripped Ember's hand in hers, storming away from them.
She had just achieved a great milestone for many royal princesses were born, but fewer ever achieved the title of Princess Royal. And as princess royal, Ember would be able to fully step into the political path without raising eyebrows.
Yet why was she not happy having achieved such a feat in her revenge plan? Why was there still a hollowness within her?
The answer was quite simple. No matter her feat and how high she climbed, her Elara was not there. This revenge Serpentine had long planned to enact with her in hopes that one day she would recover from her illness was now going to be executed by another….
…an imposter.
But she had chosen this path so decisively so she was not supposed to waver. It was that thought that held her sanity together as they entered her room that she had not visited in ten years.
"Apologies for the drab hospitality, your majesty," Syria said, noticing the tightness of her expression, "your new quarters as Queen will soon be ready."
Serpentine tugged off the crown on her hair, hurling it against the wall. Then a scream tore out of her throat, causing Ember to stare at her petrified.
Poor girl… but this was not the time for her to pity another. Regardless of the girl's young age, Serpentine had seen enough of the harsh world to understand that when calamity falls, it doesn't take age into consideration.
She had been fifteen when she married.
Her daughter had been two weeks old when she had been lethally poisoned.
Ember herself has been a second old when she was declared a witch without Velth and reduced to the status of a servant.
That was why Serpentine could not afford to pity anyone…especially not Ember. If anything, this act of theirs was going to be their saving grace… a chance for two condemned women to raise their heads up high in society without being subjected to the caprices and whims of fate.
"I used every dirty information I had on the king to press him to make Elara princess royal." Serpentine muttered when she finally calmed down.
Syria perked up. "It worked?" She asked slowly.
"Even though I had no solid evidence it worked—Elara will be crowned Princess Royal. But the disadvantage is that he will now be on guard against me knowing I'm not as simple as he envisioned." She answered grimly, then turned her eyes at Ember, who stood defeated.
"Keep your shoulders squared," Serpentine commanded, not finding her dreary posture funny, "your head, high. Your eyes, piercing and your spine, straight. The moment you look like a lost puppy they will think they have the right to have a pound of your flesh!"
The young girl scrambled into position instantly.
"What have you learnt from that exchange back at the coronation? Do you have any questions perhaps?"
The girl swallowed. Then jutting her chin up just the way Serpentine expected she asked, "Do you not suspect that Thalara could have poisoned me?" She said smoothly, and for a moment Serpentine was proud at how good she wore the act.
"She is not the one." She explained coolly, "she is far too foolish and far too short sighted to have played such a hand. Her dramatic displays today are the sum of her pathetic existence. Do not hold her in any more regard than that. She is a pawn herself."
Her eyes widened in response, and yet again the striking resemblance to her daughter did bad things to her heart.
"Then…what of my father? He didn't glance at me more than once, he certainly seemed suspicious although I wouldn't know the reason why he would do that to his own child...." She trailed.
Serpentine nodded, satisfied that her mind seemed to be working after all. She was certainly smart, although far from smart enough to handle royal intricacies…yet.
"It's not him." Serpentine answered decisively, "but it might be someone behind him… one of his backers."
She began pacing the room, her mind restless. "Do you understand who the princess royal is?" She asked instead, taking a break from contemplating her daughter's murder..
"Not much, but I understand her position must be a political one."
"Why have you come to such a conclusion?" Serpentine questioned, mildly amused.
The girl stared straight at her with those ashen eyes of hers. "If it was not a political position, then there was no reason for them to object so fiercely to it."
Serpentine smiled tightly m. "Good. But the position is nothing if the holder doesn't wield it well."
The girl fell on her knees, surprising her.
"What must I do, mother?" She asked strongly, as though she was more than ready to play that deadly game which might cost their lives or something more of them.
Even on Serpentine's mother's dying bed, the woman warned her to steer off politics.
'It ruined me,' she said, 'it will ruin you too.'
But unwittingly, Serpentine had been thrust in the game. Now, she had no choice but to forge ahead bravely.
She leaned before the girl—her daughter—hardening her heart like steel. If this girl who had lost everything could show such bravery, then who was she?
"Art of war," she began listing them out, "diplomacy, espionage, weaponizing your femininity, refinement on your poise, art, history, speech and etiquette. You must learn them all in the shortest time frame as possible. Eight years at most. This is not a war that will be fought with arms, it must be fought with something more…do you understand?"
Her daughter stared at her intensely, and for a moment, time suspended until it was just the both of them.
"I perfectly understand, mother." She finally answered, her voice holding a resolve that even Serpentine lacked.
It was clear that the girl had been through a share of life on her own, but just how harsh had life been to her? No girl she knew, not even her daughter Elara possessed half the stealth that was sewn into Ember's eyes. Even though young, life clearly hadn't allowed her to enjoy her youth.
And now, Serpentine would strip off whatever might be left of her innocence. If not for anything, but to also preserve the last serving bloodline of her benefactor.
Because in this world, the innocent don't live. Only those who are cruel enough manage to survive.
And Ember seemed to understand that even better than her twenty-six year old self could understand.