"Move faster! Racheal challenges the knight she was having a duel with. Her feet were fast-paced, her brown hair swaying as she moved her sword with a dexterity that couldn't be matched.
She was wearing a green dress and black pants with a brown boot, dressed like a lady knight.
Berth was walking across the hallways with Tamar, her personal handmaid, by her side. She was wearing a black gown with short sleeves, embellished with silver embroidery of flowers.
Her black hair was packed up in a bun, the silver earrings she wore dangling as she walked.
"Who is she? Berth asked when she sighted Racheal; she saw a lot of prowess in her getting out my phone in swordsmanship.
"That is Queen Racheal, my lady." Tamar answers dutifully.
"Queen Racheal? The first queen of Decreash? Berth questioned, not breaking her gaze away from the fight.
"Yes, my lady." Tamar answered.
Their swords clashed and cut through the air, their bodies having rivulets of sweat, beaming under the afternoon sun.
"Lady Racheal, your skills have greatly improved." The knight said, attacking Racheal using his sword in all directions.
"Less talking, more action! Racheal said before finally knocking down the knight's sword.
"Mother! The five-year-old came running to Racheal. She turned around and smiled before going down on one knee with open hands.
Amilek ran into his mother's hand, and she ran her hand through his brown hair and planted a kiss on his forehead.
"My sunshine, where have you been? Racheal said, cupping his face with both her hands.
"Playing on the field, Sir Juntin was teaching me how to use a sword, like you! The little boy sounded excited.
Racheal smiled….
"That's lovely. I am sure you are a fast learner, just like your mother." She said, slowly rising to her feet.
A handmaid who had been standing aside came forward and handed her a water bag. Racheal drank from it before taking the towel, which the maid also handed over to her. She wiped her face but paused when she saw Berth making her way in her direction.
"Amilek, go to my chamber. I will be with you in some minutes; we will have lunch together." Racheal said, rubbing her son's head. The little boy nodded in obligation and scurried away, but not before stopping to gaze at Berth.
Racheal continued to wipe her face as if she hadn't seen Berth in the first place.
"Is it a good time to stop by? Berth had both her hands in front of her, one on top of the other, as she drew closer.
"As a matter of fact, it's not. I was just about to take my leave; I am having lunch with my son." Racheal said, making to walk past Berth, but the latter caught her by the arm without turning around.
"I understand we are not on good terms, mostly because my sister threatened to kill your son, but that is past us." Berth said.
Rachael's gaze was fixed on the floor, her hand crossed behind her back.
"I love my son with everything I have, Lady Berth. If anyone tries to harm him, they have invoked my anger. This much I can tell you, good day." Racheal said before walking away.
Berth smacked her lips in defeat as she watched Racheal work away. Tamar, her handmaid, walked up to her; she was standing aside to allow both ladies to converse.
"Tell me, Tamar, is Racheal's son the king's blood? She asked without sparing Tamar a glare.
"No, my lady, Amilek is not the king's biological son." Tamar answered precisely.
A smug look appeared at the corner of Berth's rosy lips.
"That's all I needed to hear."
Ramah was walking down the hallway to the library when she and Jazell came across each other.
Ramah was supposed to be Ragaleon's third wife, but the alliance was called off because Ragaleon wanted to fulfill the promise he made to Jahad Ferdinand, Micah and Berth's father.
"That sweet smile of yours seems to have disappeared over the past few days, Ramah." Ramah was about to walk away immediately when she came across Jazell, but the latter won't let her go so easily.
Jazell's short blonde hair matches the color of her gown; her left hand had three rings, a silver ring and two golden rings.
Her fair skin, as white as snow, and her small jawline and pointed nose give off sharp facial features.
Ramah's blue eyes and straight jet-black hair were quite a contrast to Jazell's. She has wide jawlines and a cheeky face, making her have an innocent facial expression.
"Somehow you manage to manipulate the king, and he cuts off his alliance with me. Now you are feeling on top of the world? Ramah said, giving Jazell daggers with her glare.
"This is where you are wrong. Ramah, I didn't manipulate the king. He must have seen through your mask and fake smiles." Jazell smirked.
"I didn't get into the harem; either way, I have a kingdom to rule, since my brother Diego has lost the will to live." Ramah said and drew closer to Jazell.
"I see the fear in your eyes, fear of the unknown. You are like a predator hunting numerous prey without any direction. I might not be the queen to take you down, but there will surely come another." Ramah said and then took a step backward.
Jazell still managed to keep a straight face, her crystal blue eyeballs unswerving, as still as a statue.
"This is what you have to say after being cast out like a used towel? I am sure you will make a lovely queen; you have what it takes. As for your brother Diego, send my greetings." Jazell said, about to walk away.
"Your greetings, you say? I thought you already did that by yourself when you visited him at the guest house? Ramah scoffed, and Jazell froze in her tracks.
"Did I? I don't recall." She still managed to keep a straight face.
Ramah bit her lips bitterly…
"For some reason I can't shake this feeling off; I know it was you that poisoned my brother. But I didn't say a thing, because of my self-interest, I will be a better queen to Bethalone than my brother will ever be in a hundred years."
"Like I said before, I like you, Ramah. You know exactly what you want, and that will take you a long way. Send my greetings to Brother … if you will." Jazell said before walking away.
Ramah's eyes darkened as she clenched her fist; she continued on her way to the guest house when she bumped into Berth, who was just coming from the balcony.
"Lady Ramah." Berth said he wanted to talk to her.
"Save it! Ramah said, walking past her.
*I tell you, you are better off angry and serious-looking than happy and always smiling…cunningly." Berth turned to look at Ramah, who had halted in her steps.
"Cunning, such a fine word. Where did you learn it, Lady Berth? For all I know you are of low birth, a commoner." Ramah mocked her word, getting underneath Berth's thick skin.
"Low birth? You have formed the habit of looking down on others, Ramah." Berth, said inching forward.
"This commoner, as you put it, in front of you is going to become a queen." Berth said, and Ramah looked a little bit stunned.
"Cats got your tongue? Berth mocked.
"And why should I believe that? To believe that a king is getting married to a commoner, someone not befitting his status, is just like believing pigs can fly, and that is not possible, is it? Ramah scoffed, but Berth kept a straight face.
"You can believe whatever you want." Berth whispered, her blue eyes looking distant.
"Now if you would excuse me, I have a royal wedding to prepare for." Berth said it was her turn to walk past Ramah.
"Berth!
Ramah called out, not turning around…
"You may think being a queen is all about the pleasure and the feast. Having maids attend to you all day long without lifting a finger..." Ramah licked her rosy lips and then slowly turned to look at Berth.
"You have more to lose than to gain if you become Queen Berth."
"But you were ready to take that risk a few days ago, Ramah; don't lecture me on what being a queen feels like." Berth scorned.
"I was ready to take that risk, because I had prepared myself for what was coming! Ramah said in a firm voice.
"I can write a hundred books on how to be royalty, but it still won't be enough to explain the whole concept. You are not ready, Berth…to become a queen." Ramah said, fondling the bracelet on her left hand.
"You underestimate me, Ramah."
"No, I see you for what you truly are. A lowborn, I am not mocking you; I am telling you the plain truth. You are not ready."
"Queens are not born, Ramah; they are made." Berth said with boldness.
"I have seen these people, what they are made of; if your claim of being the king's soon-to-be wife is true, then I truly pity you. The storm that is coming, you won't be able to survive it." Ramah spoke genuinely.
"And you are saying this to me because? Berth asked rather nonchalantly.
"I don't need your pity or your sympathy, Ramah; you should worry more about yourself." Berth said before turning and walking away.
Ramah's pupils dilated as she licked her dry lips and gazed ahead, then she sighed and continued on her way.