Ernest: (Hugging Alf) 😭 I am not! I am for sure not strong, Elder Brother...
Elva overhears their conversation from a corner.
Alf: 😳🙂 (he cuddles him).
Ernest: 😭 I am not strong at all, Elder Brother. I couldn't protect Pa Skyer, I couldn't stay a little longer with Sister Elvÿ, and then I couldn't protect Father. 😖 I'm such a disgrace, Elder Brother.
Alf: Of course not. That's not true, hush.
Ernest: (Not convinced).
Alf: Hey, hey, look at me.
Second Imperial Prince Ernest glances at Alf.
Alf: You are not a disgrace. You wouldn't have had a hand in this even if tragedy befell us again. Besides, I must admit—you are quite strong, in the fact that you didn't lay defeated. Why also worry about Lady Elvÿndia, when she still resides with us and is as blithe as always?
Elva: [😌]
Alf: And no matter the number of those protecting me, your protection will always be superior to theirs.
Ernest: Really?
Alf: (Gives a nod) ☺️ Mm.
Ernest: 😭😭!!
Alf: 😳
Ernest: 🤧 Thank you, Elder Brother.
The two brothers embrace.
Ernest: Anyways, concern not yourself about my grief. But that of our dear Mother still dwells within her. What can we do to console her?
Alf: For that, I do not know. (He heaves a thoughtful sigh).
Eavesdropping, Elvÿndia stares at the tiles and walks away. Towards the Eastern region of the Imperial Palace stands an exquisite brass greenhouse, where the Ælfen-Majesty secretly releases her sorrow.
Amidst her hushed mourning, her Court Lady approaches and curtsies.
Court Lady In: Forgive this servant for disturbing Her Majesty, but I bring a message from Lady Elva, who desperately wishes to see you...
The Ælfen-Majesty agrees with a graceful nod, and Elva is let in. She greets politely.
Elva: Forgive this common ælfen for perturbing you.
Ælfen-Majesty: (Pretends to be well) No, not in the least, my daughter.
Elva: (Standing up) Well then. (Adoring the lounge) Ooh, Mother Majesty, your Garden Hall is enchanting. Almost as alluring as your scent 😊 Mother Majesty.
Her playful attitude makes the Ælfen-Majesty chuckle, though sorrow still lingers on her face. Elva notices.
Elva: But more mild than your sorrow. Great is the pain you conceal, isn't it, Your Majesty?
Ælfen-Majesty: (Regains attention and looks at her) Oh, my daughter, I am fine. Don't think too much, it's just a...
Elva: Your Ælfen-Majesty, the feeling of losing loved ones is something I know intensely. I lost my mother moments after she birthed me. For Papa, it was at a tender age—which, I must dishonorably admit, I still agonize about till this day.
Ælfen-Majesty: (Shakes head) No, my dear, no. You are very strong. You stood your ground in survival till this day. (Monologue) Even I myself do not possess such will. (Speaks up) The Late Elflord always told me to be prepared for his departure at any time, yet I took his words lightly, dreaming that we would leave this world as one. And now, it hurts too much that I meditated not on his advice.
Her Ælfen-Majesty wipes her eyes.
Ælfen-Majesty: It hurts too dearly.
The Empress buries her face in her fabric. Amidst her silent mourning, she suddenly feels a warm aura wrapped around her. Lifting her head, she is stunned to see it is Elva who has embraced her so passionately.
Elva: Aunt Brielle always said an embrace can fight against the lies of trouble. I only hope this helps.
The Ælfen-Majesty pats Elva's right forearm in gratitude.
Ælfen-Majesty: It does, my daughter, it does.
Then silence lingers as Her Ælfen-Majesty heaves a sigh.
Elva: Ah! I heard Mother Majesty was the best dancer in her elf-maiden years. How about we hold a petite banquet and you'll be our host dancer?
Ælfen-Majesty: 😄 Good Heavens, my adored. I am too old for that now...
Elva: (Steps away and kneels) It would mean a lot.
Sometime later, the greenhouse is filled with exceptionally pleasant instrumental sounds. The music seeps through every tiny gap in the greenhouse, as if even Nature should be invited. A majority of the Palace Servants gather to watch their beautiful Ælfen-Majesty dance in magnificent steps. Even Elva is stunned by such splendor.
Elva: Wow 😳, she's captivating. Age can't seize all things, it seems.
While attending to guests, the other Dragon Successors enter the greenhouse.
Duke Balin: Gracious, it's simple and cultural.
Princess Raina: You may say that again.
Elva: 😀 Welcome to the Petite Greenhouse Festival. (As Alf enters) Hope you feel at rest.
Duke Balin bows gratefully and follows Raina, who steps away without a reply. Elva glances at the Crown Prince, whose eyes have been fixed on her for some time. As she turns to walk away, her left wrist is suddenly seized by Alf, pulling her to face him.
Alf: What do you think you're doing?
Elva: What? 😄 A little joy won't hurt, will it?
Alf: You are aware that it is quite risky to—
Elva: To be doing this right now?
Alf: (Quiet).
Elva: (Snorts) Your Royal Highness, am I that incapable to you? If the transgressor wanted to strike, it would've happened by now. (Forcibly retracting her wrist from his grip) Don't worry. (Massaging her wrist) ... I've handled that. (Leaving him) That's if you can see that invisible protection shield.
Alf heaves a sigh. Elva continues entertaining the guests with refreshments. However, Alf, keeping his eyes on her for a long while, suddenly squints. At once, Elva straightens as if manipulated by some unseen force...
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