"What?" Anora's tone held a hint of impatience as she regarded the girl.
"Your Grace," the young court lady murmured deferentially, placing the gown on an elevated standing table. "A member of the coven is here for you."
Anora's expression shifted, a flicker of curiosity crossing her features. "Who?" she inquired, her voice betraying a note of intrigue.
"I cannot say, all I was tasked with was to inform you," the girl replied, her eyes cast downward.
Anora pondered the revelation for a moment before rising from the sauna, the warmth clinging to her skin as she moved. "Escort this member of the coven to the meeting room," she instructed, her tone firm but composed. "Prepare a welcoming entrée and something to drink for her. No wine; they don't like that. Water and something fruity."
The young girl nodded dutifully, her expression earnest. "Would you have us stay close and welcoming to her?" she asked, seeking further guidance.
Anora's gaze sharpened as she considered the implications. "Tell all others to stay away," she commanded, her voice carrying a note of caution. "The coven has weirding ways about them. I wouldn't want them to turn my people into unwitting spies."
The young girl nodded once more, her understanding evident as she prepared to depart. "Is that all, Your Grace?" she inquired respectfully.
Anora's lips quirked into a faint smile. "Call me Anora, or Princess, if you so wish," she replied, her tone softening. "Grace is reserved for our religious zealots."
With a graceful curtsey, the young court lady took her leave, leaving Anora to her preparations. As she dressed in her dark green leathery dress, her mind buzzed with anticipation, knowing that the arrival of the coven member heralded the potential for further intrigue in the intricate web of court politics.
As Anora made her entrance into the grand meeting room, the atmosphere seemed to shift, as if the very air held its breath in anticipation. The Welcoming Court, as it was known, bore the weight of history within its walls, its grandeur juxtaposed with a sense of solemnity. The room itself was a testament to opulence, with vaulted ceilings adorned with intricate mouldings that seemed to reach for the heavens. Soft candlelight flickered, casting dancing shadows across the polished marble floors, lending an air of mystique to the space.
At the head of the imposing round maple oak table sat the coven member, an enigmatic figure shrouded in darkness. Her presence seemed to command the room, her long black locks cascading over her shoulders like a cloak of shadow. Silver eyes, sharp and piercing, gazed out from beneath furrowed brows, betraying a wisdom beyond her years. Her skin bore a pallid grey hue, hinting at the otherworldly power that coursed through her veins.
Anora's eyes swept over the table, taking in the untouched offerings laid out before the coven member. Bread, cheese, and apples sat untouched, untouched by human hands, save for the perpetrating water that seemed to shimmer with an ethereal glow.
"Welcome," Anora's voice echoed softly in the vast chamber as she entered, her footsteps muffled by the plush carpeting that lined the floor. She gestured for her guards and attendants to leave, the heavy oak door closing with a resounding thud behind them, sealing them off from the outside world.
The coven member inclined her head in a slight bow, her lips twisting into a humourless smile. "Thank you for the welcoming offerings," she intoned, her voice carrying a weight of centuries-old knowledge. She gestured for Anora to take a seat beside her, her silver eyes never leaving the princess's face.
Anora hesitated for a moment, her eyes narrowing as she considered the woman before her. She chose instead to remain standing, her posture rigid with tension as she surveyed the room with a critical eye.
"What do you want?" Anora demanded, her voice sharp and commanding, cutting through the stillness of the room like a knife.
The coven member's smile widened, a glimmer of amusement dancing in her silver eyes. "Your father is up on the extractor as we speak, making way to Ailon," she revealed, her tone matter-of-fact.
Anora's brow furrowed in confusion, her mind racing to make sense of the cryptic message. "That still does not answer why or who you even are," she countered, her voice tinged with scepticism.
The coven woman let out a low chuckle, the sound sending shivers down Anora's spine. "They call me Ayana. Ayana Ky-Deschon," she introduced herself, her voice carrying the weight of generations. "I am the second seat in the ruling five sections of the coven, second soothsayer to the gods, and great-granddaughter to the Black Witch and Grand Maiden."
Anora's eyes widened in surprise at the revelation, her scepticism giving way to a begrudging respect. "I am here because it is the gods' will I be here," Ayana continued, her tone unwavering, "along with your fathers blessing."
"We have little to do with the gods," Anora countered, her voice tinged with defiance.
"Perhaps," Ayana conceded, her gaze unwavering. "But your father has violated the dictum, and that is a very serious crime, young child."
Anora's disbelief masked her true emotions as she processed the gravity of Ayana's accusation. An icy grip seized her heart as the room seemed to darken unnaturally, the shadows dancing menacingly across the walls. From Ayana's expression, Anora could tell that the coven maiden was serious and indifferent to her opinions, her allegiance lying solely with the gods and the ancient laws that governed their world.
"That is a very serious accusation," Anora spat out, her words dripping with thinly veiled rage and rising terror. She fought to keep her emotions in check, employing the breathing exercises her mother had taught her in moments of distress.
Ayana, ever observant, noted Anora's controlled demeanour with a flicker of acknowledgment. "You know our ways," she remarked, her tone devoid of both amusement and anger, a quick throwaway observation the coven maiden wished not to dwell upon.
"All I ask is to speak with your brother, the crown prince," Ayana continued, her voice steady and unwavering.
"He is not here," Anora stated truthfully, her gaze meeting Ayana's without flinching.
Lady Ayana exploded onto her feet, her movements swift and purposeful. "I know that, child," she declared, her tone laced with impatience. "I also know that this is where he soon shall come, and I, for one, wish to see this boy-herald."
She moved to stand just next to Anora, her presence imposing yet strangely comforting in its certainty. "Only after this shall I leave, no sooner," Ayana assured, her gaze boring into Anora's with unyielding determination.
"And if I refuse?" Anora challenged, her voice trembling slightly despite her best efforts to maintain her composure.
"As we speak, the gods plot for your doom. It is up to us whether we will aid your people," Ayana stated matter-of-factly, her words heavy with the weight of responsibility.
Anora swallowed hard, the gravity of the situation pressing down upon her like a leaden weight. "I will judge and see whether you and your brother are worth saving or damning," Ayana declared as she brushed past Anora, leaving the princess speechless in her wake, a sense of foreboding closing in around her like the tightening coils of a serpent.
For a moment, Anora stood frozen, her mind reeling with the implications of Ayana's words. Then, with a sense of urgency coursing through her veins, she made a decision. She would seek counsel from her father, the king, at once, trusting in his wisdom to navigate the treacherous waters ahead. With resolve in her heart, she turned on her heel and hurried from the room, leaving behind the oppressive atmosphere of uncertainty and fear.