The palace's main hall radiated a golden light from the afternoon sun above, the large chandeliers spilling light everywhere and illuminating the whole area with their brilliant reflection on the nice floor. The soft scents from the flowers that beautifully decorated every walkway pervaded the air mixing with the faint fragrance of the nobles and their attendants. The high-class who celebrated Stephanie's eighth birthday were making the room come alive with their voices, smiles, and the not-so-noisy movement of silk.
The Emperor was there, sitting up high on his throne watching the girls with a pleased expression. The Empress was next to him, her hands folded beautifully as she talked to her friends in a low voice. Among them were Concubine Annabeth Charles,the mother of Anastasia, Concubine Ellie Hamel,the mother of Danielle, and many other top-class nobles. The princesses were the center of attention as they passed by the audience with captivating curtsies and sweet smiles. Their faces were full of delight and pride.
Stephanie was the one who moved most gracefully in the whole hall. He was holding a small tray filled with sweets in his hands, and he would stop from time to time just to say hi to a guest or to share a joke with a noble child. His golden hair could be compared to sunlight and his eyes were the brightest in the whole hall. The other sister, Danielle, and Anastasia were by his side; the youngest was the one who was most enjoying the celebration. Anastasia laughed rather quietly when Stephanie gave her a small present which had been given to him by a guest, and Danielle was the one who introduced herself before she took a seat as he said hi to the next guest.
Estella and Clarisse, who were positioned just a little bit away from the group, were observing the whole scene and feeling the emotions of envy which were not at all hidden. Estella's hair, which was straight, reflecting the sun like gold could not, however, the brightness of that coming from Stephanie. Clarisse was playing with her very short hair that was cut like a wolf's and biting her lip at the same time. The two of them were talking to each other in whispers, their eyes revealing the amount of jealousy they felt while gazing at the attention that their youngest sister was receiving.
The Emperor was puffing up with pride. "Phenicia, just take a look at them," he said full of overtones and warmth. " The girls are really great. All of them are of Rupertz blood lines but the youngest…my little sun, she is the brightest of all."
The Empress's smile was weak, but her anxiety was not showing. She was aware of the boy's secret and every praise was like an invitation to her to get even more anxious. Please, let today go smoothly, she thought, and darted her eyes towards Stephanie, who was the source of her concern.
The voice, though small, was able to cut through the warm atmosphere. "Father," Stephanie asked, looking very innocent and tilting her head so that it seemed she was trying to see the Emperor upside down, "did I ever have any brothers?"
Down in the hall, silence descended. Even the blowing wind was not heard.
The Emperor's smile became a bit rigid. The Empress was immobilized. The girls were stunned too. Clarisse and Estella looked at each other with daggers in their eyes, while Danielle and Anastasia could only gawp at Stephanie with surprise.
"You…what did you just ask?" the Emperor, his voice quivering a bit, asked, the limit of his patience getting closer.
Stephanie blinked and followed her head movement with a slight shift forward and backward. " I asked whether I had any brothers, Father. Mother told me about your brothers. Did I ever have any?"
The Empress's grasp of the fabric of her gown became firm, and the color of her face changed to a darker one. No, no, not now, she thought, imagining her panic escalating uncontrollably.
Clarisse murmured to Estella in a hissing tone, "Did she just raise the issue of children? How can she be so bold…"
Estella made a dissatisfied facial expression and was fidgeting her fingers held together behind her back.
" I know I don't have brothers and you do not like sons and I have not forgotten that because that is what you said 3 years ago but can you please still be considerate? I want brothers."
Stephanie went on, not having any idea about the strain that he had caused. "Father, I any want brothers too. Perhaps one day I might have them, and we can all play together. What was your reason not to have sons? Why... why did you take their lives?"
The Empress was close to fainting. She covered her mouth with a hand. Her heart was beating very fast.
The Emperor was very angry; his eyes were like coals on fire. He ascended from his throne; the room became quiet because of him. "Are you so bold as to mention sons in my hall?" His voice was like the sound of thunder, and the crystal chandeliers shook.
Stephanie, who was small and innocent, slightly raised his chin. "Father, I was just asking... they were only human, like my uncles. Why were they not worthy of life?"
There were gasps all over the hall. The concubines bowed their heads in shame and fear. Even Clarisse and Estella averted his gaze, their jealousy mingled with fear. Anastasia and Danielle were frozen in place, holding their breath.
The Emperor's face turned black, and his veins became prominent on his neck. "You dare to challenge me? You dare to talk about those who died and brought shame to this family?"
Stephanie's little voice remained strong. "They were just people, Father. They did not deserve to die. They were your sons... just like me. Why? Why are sons killed, while uncles and others are allowed to live?"
Anastasia was shocked, and the impact of the words was such that Stefania could not hold herself any longer. She fell on the marble floor trembling. Scenes of her little brother came to her memory—his tiny cries, the fear, and the moment she had been only eight years old and seeing his death. Her mother, Concubine Annabeth Charles, lost her balance and collapsed, her hand going to her heart.
The Empress held Stephanie tightly, a protection gesture with her body, whispering, "My little one... stop... I beg you..."
The Emperor's rage had reached its highest point. He moved closer, each of his footsteps resounding like a drumbeat of wrath. He touched his sword with his hand, and in a quick movement, he drew it out of its scabbard. The sword shone under the chandeliers, and at the same time, it was reflecting the mystified and frightened faces of the nobles.
Stephanie was still not scared and simply inclined his head as if he could not understand it. "Father, what is this? Why do you show me a sword?"
The Emperor managed to speak with a very low, ice-cold, and yet super angry tone of voice, "You do want to know the truth of sons in this house, don't you?" He gripped the sword tightly, holding it high above his head. "They were weak. They were non-entities. They disgraced the family of Rupertz. And when your great-grandfather could see them, he threw them out even further. They perished since only girls could bring our true light."
The small hands of Stephanie were holding the hem of his gown tightly, but he was still calm. "But ... they were only human. They were no less deserving of life than my uncles. They should not have died."
The entire hall became so quiet as if all sound had been turned off. Even the nobles who were chattering among themselves became still and silent because of their astonishment.
At this moment, a gentle voice in a calm and deliberate manner came to break the complete quietness. "Indeed."
All the heads turned. Lerman, the master of the Magic Tower, smoothly advanced, his robes brushing against the floor, hands folded nicely in front of him like a monk. His eyes had a little glimmer of a secret shared by him and no one else. "I must say that I had no intention of interrupting this conversation."
The Emperor made a quick turn, and his face was full of hatred. "Who are you to stand here, and say anything, mage? Do not waste my time and speak quickly, for I am already provoked."
Lerman's face showed a slight and clever smile. "Your Majesty, I am just a passive observer. But the Empire... the Empire has a truth that you should listen to. There is a curse upon the blood of Rupertz, particularly the male children. One of the boys in this family shall be the one to sleep the eternal way, and it will be one of his sisters who will be the cause."
The Empress's face was soon the epitome of shock. Her hand went to her mouth. She knew straight away that he was referring to her son. Her brain was in a tumult. He knows... he knows the truth about Stephen.
He looked at the little boy, the smile on his face was calm yet piercing. Lerman's gaze slid over to the child, "A curse of great power, little one. Only daughters of Rupertz blood—or a mage strong enough to reach Rank Z—can cast it."
The Emperor's fist was clenched tightly. "Tell, Lerman! What is this treason? How? Who? When? Why?"
Lerman had not yet replied when the noise of a scuffle came from the extreme end of the hall. "The treasury! The Pearl of Tears! It's gone!" a guard yelled.
The whole hall was frozen in place. The noble kids were crying out since they couldn't understand what was going on. The guests were whispering to one another in a state of panic.
Lerman's form in the hall vanished as abruptly as it came. The Empress's hand instantly covered her mouth. Stephanie was looking around, completely puzzled, holding on to her mother's dress, and Anastasia and Danielle were quickly coming forward to shield him.
The Emperor's expression had turned into one of rage and terror. "How... how could this happen? The Pearl of Tears! One of Rupertz's twenty greatest treasures... lost?"
The Empress's gaze was fixed on the floor in disbelief. "All twenty... the barriers, the weapons... the very essence of our magic... the Empire's life-force... if one goes, the Empire gets weaker, and so does the bloodline," she murmured.
The boy tilted his head. "Father... why are they so important?"
"Child," the Emperor spoke, his voice shaking with both fury and fear, "these treasures are not just beautiful stones. They are the very source of Rupertz mana, the bastions and weaponry of this Empire. Without them, our might is weakened. Without them... the blood of Rupertz debilitates."
The guests went into a panic. The noble mothers hugged their children tightly. The concubines went down to the floor, their faces showing fear. Clarisse and Estella were mute with astonishment, the jealousy being swapped for horror.
Stephanie's eyes were like saucers and followed the movement of the crowd. "Who... got it?" he put the question.
Nobody replied. Only silence, which was pierced by the guards' echoing footsteps running to the treasury, was heard. The Emperor's hand reached for his sword; his eyes were on fire. The Empress pulled Stephanie to her and said, "My child... stick with me. Stay safe. This... this is just the beginning."
A few months later...
The great hall was outside but it appeared to be shrinking with the influx of panic. The party had gone mute, leaving behind fear, doubt, and the lurking of a curse that could strike even the most splendid light of the Rupertz bloodline.
The day in the palace gardens was lovely. The dew kept the edges of the butterfly bushes company, and it shone like a diamond under the sun. The atmosphere was indeed sweet- roses, mint, and a very light trail of honey from the nearby blooming lilies. The sisters were sitting at a white marble table under a flowery canopy, their teacups giving off gentle steam, laughter mixing with the delicate fluttering of butterflies.
A Truly regal atmosphere was established by the soft whisper of the wind, the delicate singing of the birds, and the sweetest of fragrances wafting from the gardens. Stephanie was seated next to the beautiful princesses, Danielle and Anastasia, while Clarisse took a very relaxed pose on her chair and Estella showed her sly grin by swirling her cup. The entire scene was peaceful, but a restlessness of their hearts was underneath especially after the events of the past few months.
Danielle served more tea to all present. "It has taken months," she told in a low voice. "But still a different atmosphere prevails in the palace. Father's smile is now a rarity. He hardly speaks with Stephanie."
Estella poured tea for herself and crossed her legs. "What did you think? His most precious thing has disappeared, and the rumors are quite a number. The curse... and a brother, for that matter." She delivered this with a highly sarcastic tone.
Anastasia didn't like it. "That's not how one should talk, please."
Estella laughed, and there was a wicked sparkle in her eyes. "Really? I'm just stating the case and making the claim wherein I find the backing of the hushed creatures of the night—His Majesty's offspring is either already born or on the way soon. And that one of you—is going to put a curse on him."
Clarisse felt awkward and said, "That's pure nonsense. The servants are to blame for such gossip—they don't know their place."
"But what if it actually is true?" Danielle posed the question in a barely audible tone. "What if one of us will eventually put a curse on a child? What if a mother has given a baby already somewhere in the world and we don't know about it?"
The table was silent. Even the butterflies appeared to withdraw slowly so as not to cause tension.
Anastasia was holding her teacup and her fingers were shaking. Her eyes were lit up with an old wound. "I... I used to have one brother."
She had everyone's attention now. Clarisse raised her eyebrows. Estella was not able to move her lips, which were holding the mid-sip of a drink. Stephanie had a very quiet gasp of surprise.
Anastasia's voice started breaking as she continued, "He came into this world eight years back. I was just eight too. Mother told me to wait outside the room when she was delivering the baby. I heard him cry—only once. His cry was soft, feeble... but full of life nonetheless." There was a brief halt, her eyes lost their original brightness. "Then Father came. As soon as he was informed that the newborn was a boy, he did not even think for a moment. He commanded that the baby be taken away. I went after him... I saw it. He—he killed him... My little brother."
Clarisse could bear it no longer, and she lowered her head and started to bite her lip. Danielle, on the other hand, offered her a gentle, warm and human hand to hold, that was, holding Anastasia's trembling hands. "Forgive me," she uttered softly.
Stephanie moved in and she was all the time very soft and kind with her young voice. "You will not have to share that pain burden, Sister, all by yourself. He has found his peace, after all. You didn't do anything wrong."
Anastasia's delicate smile turned into tears, which came down without restraint. "Thank you, Stephanie. Really, you're too good to me..."
In the meantime, Estella laughed mockingly. "What a pitiful tale. Do you really think that you are the only one who has lost something?"
"Estella," Danielle interjected.
"On the contrary, let her speak," Anastasia replied, her voice quaking yet bold.
Estella's grin widened. "Perhaps Father was right. Perhaps sons bring nothing but afflictions. Perhaps that is the reason why your brother had to die."
Stephanie jumped up all of a sudden, her little hands clenching the table. "That's it, Estella!" Her voice broke—not high and dainty as usual, but rather, stronger, firmer, almost… boyish.
The sisters were taken aback and they blinked.
Anastasia hastily rose and put a hand on Stephanie's arm. "No, Stephanie. Don't. It's not worth it."
Stephanie stopped, she had realized her mistake, then averted her eyes and regained her gentle manner of speaking. "Pardon me, Sister. I just… couldn't bear that."
Danielle breathed out slowly. "That's it. Let's not resort to fighting. There is no reason to be sad this morning with the sun so bright and beautiful."
The silence persisted, interrupted only by the soft drone of butterflies. Then Danielle grinned, striving to make the atmosphere a little lighter. "What about it? Let's change the subject. Remember Nathaniel Tyler Von Cerzt? The one who attended your birthday, Stephanie?"
Stephanie blinked, trying to conceal her relief at the topic shift. "Oh, yes. The noble lad with the silver eyes."
Danielle laughed, her cheeks reddening. "He was so well-mannered… and good-looking."
Estella made a teasing smirk. "Oh, Danielle. You have been dreaming about him since that very day."
"I—I'm not!" Danielle defended herself, her face burning.
Clarisse quietly laughed, finally showing her teeth. "He was indeed nice; I can't deny it. His behavior even drew a compliment from the Empress."
"Will he be back, in your opinion?" Danielle asked softly while playing with her hair.
"Perhaps," Estella replied playfully. "Provided you send him a love letter first."
"Estella!" was all that Danielle could say, her uncontrollable laugh accompanied by a face hiding.
At last, their laughter cut through the gloom. The butterflies' fluttering increased, as if they were celebrating with the girls. Anastasia, in turn, leaned her head on Danielle's shoulder, allowing a slight smile to come on her lips. Stephanie also laughed, not forcefully but in a sweet and soft way, thus concealing the void that was growing inside her heart.
For hours the girls were there doing nothing but sharing their favorite sweets, laughing, and teasing each other as they were pretending that the world was simple again. But for Stephen, it was just pretending.
That night, the palace sighed in silence. The moon was high in the sky with its silver light covering Stephen's room. In the shadows of his personal quarters, where the curtains were drawn and the floor was littered with faint traces of mana, Stephen was sitting cross-legged, eyes closed, hands resting softly on the knees.
He took a deep breath, the mana entering his body just like gentle waves. His breathing was slow, the beating of his heart was calm. The air surrounding him sparkled very lightly—his power was being intensified, sharpened.
As the clock struck midnight, he stood up softly, donning boyish clothing—a black tunic, tight trousers, and leather boots. He tied his hair back and moved with determination. In the mirror, he took a quick look at himself.
The air was charged with power. Stephen's eyes were only slightly brighter than usual when he raised his hand and whispered a brief spell. You would never have guessed that the trees had once fallen; they now stood regally as if the incident never took place.
He then pulled out his gun, directing it at the fruits that were hanging above. Bang. Bang. Bang. Every shot hit the target, and with the help of the mana, each bullet came back to his palm.
Time went by, slowly. A drop of sweat ran down his forehead, but his breath was steady and strong. The night was almost over. The dawn was approaching.
Stephen let his sword down and let out a long breath. The forest was not completely dark; it was still visible with the help of his magic. "Not enough," he mumbled. "Still not enough."
Then—
Clap. Clap. Clap.
A loud, derisive noise could be heard coming from behind him.
Stephen's body became still. His heart went up. He turned his head a bit, holding his sword even tighter. A person had noticed him—noticed him, not her.
The silhouette of a man could be seen on the borderline of the clearing, his figure being partly obscured by the light of the moon. The voice that spoke was silky, cunning, and full of mirth.
"Wow," the stranger remarked, showing his teeth. "You are, without a doubt, fantastic, Your Highness. Particularly for a person who's so good at keeping his identity hidden."
Stephen's face showed a mixture of surprise and fear.
His sword quivered in his grip.
"Who are you?" he asked, his voice heavy and strained.
The figure began to move towards him gradually, and the moonlight parting was showing the long-familiar glint of silver eyes.
To be continued.