The breakfast hall was gradually getting emptied. The Empress gave a nod to her daughters signaling that they should leave. The concubines quietly gathered together and started to share their thoughts in whispers. Annabeth Charles, the mother of Anastasia, was wearing a very deep frown.
"My concern is with the Emperor," Annabeth briefly said with a soft voice while leaning over to Clarisse's mother. "He has been rather distant during these last days. There is something that is bothering him. He does not talk much even to Princess Stephanie."
Another concubine agreed by nodding her head. "It is the lost treasure that is worrying him… and the prophecy that Lerman talked about. The Empire is very unstable. He is afraid of what is going to happen next."
At the same time, Clarisse, Danielle, and Estella approached their mothers, who were engaged in the discussion about the rivalry for the throne. The girls' expressions indicated that they were serious about the matter. The burden of proving themselves was quite heavy on them, although Danielle seemed to be more thoughtful than nervous.
Stephanie, on the other hand, did not stand up. The Empress Phenicia fixated her piercing glare on her for a moment and then called in a gentle tone, "Stephanie, come along with me."
Stephanie was taken by surprise and blinked. "Yes, Mother?" she uttered in a still high-pitched and gentle voice.
At once, a dozen maids and five ladies-in-waiting stepped forward to accompany them, together with a group of ten guards. Stephanie was with the Empress as they traversed the palace pathways. The morning sunshine was cast on the marble floors, and the faint scent of lavender and polished wood lingered in the air.
"It is now your age, Stephanie," the Empress initiated, in a low voice intended only for the two of them. "You are to make a move about the throne."
The little girl frowned a bit. "A move? Mother... I'm just eight years old. What can I do at this age that would be significant?"
The Empress looked at her with composure. "Your age is enough. Worth is not counted in years but in ability, smartness, and passion. The sooner you start, the more ready you will be."
They got to the Empress' personal rooms. The place was large, cozy, and very bright. Exquisite tapestries adorned the walls, and there was a small fountain that made a very quiet gurgling sound in one corner. The Empress made an all-inclusive gesture towards everyone—the maids, the ladies-in-waiting, and the guards.
"You may wait outside," she said. "I will be okay."
Stephanie nodded and went in. The door was shut and the quiet sound of the latch snapping followed. The Empress faced her, her face serene yet powerful. "So, Stephanie, you may talk freely now. You can behave as your real self."
Stephen made a noise in his throat, allowing the squeaky voice to evaporate. He switched to his natural voice and took a small step back. "Mother… what shall I do to fit for the throne?"
The Empress enveloped her self with arms, sitting beautifully on the couch. "You require to strengthen your mind, body and soul. All academics, leadership, magic techniques, swordplay... all need to be sharpened. However, you have to do it without anyone being aware of your true identity as a boy. The world thinks of you as Princess Stephanie. That must stay so."
Stephen flashed a look at the floor, keeping her eyes off. A certain uneasiness inside him was feeling.
Phenicia saw it. Her scrutinizing gaze became gentler, but the doubt was still there. "What's the matter with you that you're acting like this?" she asked in a tender tone. "You're keeping something from me. I can practically feel it."
Stephen was quiet, grappling for an idea to mislead her. "Uh… Mother… did you have a good sleep last night?"
The Empress was surprised and raised an eyebrow, saying, "Don't change the topic. Just tell me... does anyone know what you are hiding?"
Stephen was very nervous and dry-mouthed. He gulped down and then signaled with his head. The Empress was a bit worried at first but then relieved as she quickly noticed the change in her expressions.
Phenicia squatted a little and laid her hands softly on Stephen's shoulders. Stephen's body reacted by twisting away from her because he thought that she was going to scold or give a lecture. But the tone of Phenicia's voice was still very calm and it even sounded slightly tender.
She asked, "Besides the mage Lerman and my personal maid, who else?"
Stephen was in doubt but then he said, "It is… Nathaniel Tyler Von Cerzt, Mother. Lerman's nephew."
Phenicia let out a long breath, and without a word, she sat back on the sofa and sighed softly. "The Cerzt family… they are faithful. You can rely on them, Stephen. They will not betray you easily."
Stephen agreed, "Yes, Mother… Tyler took a blood oath. A Cerzt blood oath. One single drop of his blood is enough. If he goes back on it… his own life, the lives of his descendants, and his whole family will be gone."
Phenicia could hardly believe the news; Stephen's words indeed had a great impact upon her. She got up very slowly, and still in a daze. "Do you realize... what is going to be the consequence if the vow is violated?" she inquired, her tone a blend of disbelief and fear.
Without a word, Stephen gave a nod, and his expression was quite serious. "Indeed, Mother. Death will be the fate of him and all his offspring... a total wipeout."
Phenicia started to rub her temples while her mind was finding it hard to cope with the whole thing; she made a little scoff, not arrogantly, but just a sound of quiet disbelief.
Stephen got up and made his way to the empty sofa on the opposite side, where he sat down trying to appear composed, though the tension was visible. The Empress was observing him, then she let out a soft laugh and shook her head.
"You always manage to astonish me," she remarked. "Your age is so small... yet your knowledge and danger even surpass those of the Empire's most adult persons. Remain there, Stephen. Take a moment to rest. Gather your thoughts. The throne will not wait, but you must be ready."
Stephen, the eight-year-old boy, nodded, now feeling the burden of responsibility on his tiny shoulders. Although he was just a child, he was aware of the big risks that came with being in a position like his. I mean, the lessons, the secrets, the moves—everything would not just shape his future, but that of the Empire- in fact, this was waiting for him.
In the stillness of her private quarters, Stephen finally let go a small sigh of relief. The Empress was a source of peace. He only had to tell her what was going on inside him—nothing about the outside world.
The palace continued its routine outside the door that was shut. Guards were on patrol, maids were gossiping and other princesses were training and getting ready. But inside, a unique moment of quietness, war tactics and mutual comprehension was shared by Stephen and his mother.
The Empress leaned back in her seat and cast a glance toward her offspring that was a blend of pride and anxiety. "Stephen, you have to keep in mind… it is not enough to have skill alone. The heart, wisdom, and careful thought… that is the very thing that will prove you worthy."
The prince once more nodded. "I know, Mother. I will make it a point to do everything… without anyone being aware. I swear it."
The Empress, whilst still looking concerned, slightly smiled at the prince's determination. "Okay, then we are going to start. But do not forget… the world will be watching, even when it is quiet. Always be on your guard."
Stephen's mouth formed into a fiercely determined line. He did feel the burden of the decision, but at the same time, he felt that he was also empowered by it. He could be Stephanie and Stephen, the princess and the hidden prince, strong enough to endure the hardships that lay ahead.
He sat quietly; the Empress was observing, planning, and directing. The throne, the Empire, and the mysteries of Somnora were all in a state of waiting.
And Stephen, after a long and weary morning, for the very first time gave himself permission to inhale slowly, fully aware that the first milestone of his journey had been achieved.
The gentle morning breeze wafted through the palace's long, golden corridors, bringing with it the delicate smell of roses. Stephen's eyes were drawn to the wall clock, and he suddenly realized—it was already time for the daily tea party with his sisters. The boy got up from the couch, adjusted his robe, and turned to see his mother, the Empress, who was still sitting with her hands folded.
"Mother," he said in a very low voice, giving a slight bow, "may I leave now? The party with my sisters has begun."
Phenicia, very calm but also tired, looked at him for a moment. "You may go," she said, "but remember—be very careful. Never let anyone know who you really are."
"I understand, Mother," Stephen replied with a little sigh.
The Empress was not finished yet. "And after the tea party," she went on, "you must come immediately to the library. I will have a test for you this afternoon. You are to go through the laws of the Three Empires, the old histories, and the fundamental political systems. So, don't be sluggish, Stephen."
Stephen let out a soft groan, being almost too worn out to argue. "Yes, Mother..."
"And don't forget to check your mana balance," she added. "You are a Rupertz; the mana of our lineage must always be stable. It is going to be your shield."
Stephen managed a smile. "Sure, Mom. I will."
Phenicia relaxed a bit and exhaled. "Well, that's good. You can now leave. And stop wearing that tired look on your face already. You are just a mere eight years old."
Stephen made a formal bow and swiftly turned his back, saying quietly to himself, "If only you knew about my sleepless nights…"
He left the room, and five guards plus two of his servants came after him. The very doors making a loud sound closed behind him. Inside Phenicia started to rub her head again as she was staring far off. "Poor child," she declared softly. "The weight you carry is so great that it might not even be fit for your age."
While Stephen was making his way down the hall, he straightened up his outfit and mumbled a short incantation under his breath. His figure flickered for a moment, and as the glow disappeared, Princess Stephanie took the spot – beautiful, smiling, and luminous.
Her long golden mane flowed with her movements, and her steps were barely audible, ethereal. The sun pouring in from the large palace windows made her bright hazel eyes—with blue, green, and silver tints—look like the radiating source of light.
The maids and servants whom she meet in her way, all took a moment to stop and greet to her.
"Good morning, Princess Stephanie!" they said heartily and at the same time, bowing.
Stephanie after all smiled at the maids and the servants and raised her hand to greet them in the same good mood and smile that made her the best ruler of all the times. "Good morning! You all look great today! but don't forget to take a break, OK?"
The maids could not help but laugh and were sharing with each other how nice the youngest princess was. The cooks really bowed when she walked by the kitchen, and the palace guards even grinned when she exchanged greetings with them.
"Good morning, Sir Guard!" she said in her gracious voice.
"Good morning, Your Highness," they said, holding back their laughter.
Stephanie carried on her bubbly and bright acting, her happy personality radiating through all the rooms she went into. But, Stephen, on the other hand, was dead tired, and that small spell, which was supposed to be keeping him awake, was actually just giving him fatigue plus.
When she eventually got to the Imperial Palace Garden, the winter sun took control over the entire place. The flowers with their dew were shining, and the white marble table which was in the middle was keep there and with the tea cups and sweets.
"Stephanie!"
Before she could respond, Anastasia dashed towards her and wrapped her up tightly. "You are late again! But you are just too adorable to be scolded!"
Stephanie let out a small giggle. "I am sorry, Sister. I got a bit caught up in the things I was doing."
Next came, Danielle who effortlessly and without any difficulty took Stephanie and raised her high up. "You are so light, like a doll!" she joked, twirling her around before setting her down.
Clarisse stood with her arms crossed and made a clicking noise with her tongue. "Why are we still waiting for the youngest one to arrive? Shouldn't I, the one everyone is waiting for, be the one?"
Estella rolled her eyes. "You always complain, Clarisse. Just drink your tea."
Anastasia shot them both a sharp look. "Don't start fighting in front of Stephanie."
Stephanie's voice came out soft, almost pleading. "Please, stop. We're supposed to enjoy tea together."
For a second, nobody said anything. Birds chirped in the garden, and the gentle clink of tea being poured filled the air. Stephanie took a delicate sip, then spoke up again.
"Father's words this morning… they really got to me," she said, slower this time. "In ten years, we'll be rivals for the throne. That means we'll end up fighting one another."
Danielle let out a sigh and grabbed a cookie. "Yeah, I guess. Maybe it'll come down to politics, or who can actually run things."
Clarisse shook her head. "Nope. It's about strength. The strongest wins."
Estella leaned in, a crooked smile on her lips. "Or maybe it's magic. Everything in this family comes down to magic."
Anastasia's smile barely flickered. "I think it's about dominance. Whoever can lead, whoever stands above the rest."
Stephanie stared down at her tea, her voice barely above a whisper. "It depends on what he meant by 'worth.' Still… it's sad. In ten years, we'll stop being sisters and start being enemies."
Silence settled over them, heavy and awkward.
Then Danielle tried to break the tension. "Well, at least we'll all look good fighting for the throne," she said with a laugh. "Look at us—all the same Rupertz looks. Golden hair, those weird glowing hazel eyes… and not one of us really looks like our parents."
Anastasia burst out laughing. "Right? Sometimes I swear, we're just gods pretending to be human."
Danielle took another bite of her cookie and shrugged. "I wonder what we'll all look like when we're older."
Estella grinned, resting her chin on her hand. "Honestly, I'd rather see what we'd look like as boys."
Anastasia nearly dropped her teacup. "As boys? Why would you want that?"
Estella just waggled her eyebrows. "For fun! You're the oldest—you should go first. I bet you'd look like some dashing knight."
Danielle chimed in, her eyes sparkling. "Oh yes! Tall, charming, the kind who makes all the maids swoon."
At that, the maids nearby started giggling and whispering. Anastasia turned bright pink. "You're all ridiculous!"
Stephanie gave a shaky laugh, glancing away. If only they knew I'm already what they're joking about…
But she just grinned and raised her hand. "Alright, alright. Let's see what Anastasia looks like as a boy."
She whispered something under her breath. Suddenly, a soft golden light wrapped around Anastasia, and in a flash, she shot up taller, her shoulders squared, and her voice dropped a whole octave.
Everyone froze, eyes wide.
"Holy stars…" Danielle breathed.
Even the guards and servants stopped in their tracks.
Anastasia—well, him now—stared at his reflection in the tea, completely stunned. "Wait… that's me?"
Stephanie laughed. "You're a heartbreaker, big brother Anastasia."
His cheeks went scarlet. "Where did you even get that spell?!"
Stephanie just winked. "Wouldn't you like to know. Maybe I'm secretly a transformation prodigy."
Anastasia rolled his eyes, but couldn't help grinning. "Honestly… I look good. Like, really good."
Danielle doubled over, nearly spilling her tea. "You're actually blushing! Look at you!"
Estella gave him a sly look. "Told you. The maids can't even meet your eyes now."
The garden rang with laughter. For a while, nobody cared about the looming drama around the throne. Even Stephen, hidden behind his own mask, forgot the weight he carried.
Still, as the laughter faded, a quiet thought crept in: In ten years, will we still be like this? Or will the crown tear us apart?
But then Stephanie smiled again, her golden eyes bright, and the worry drifted away on the breeze.
To be continued