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Title: A Missive from Her Majesty
Inspired by: Chapter 46 of the Manga Akagami no Shirayukihime
Character(s): Izana Wistalia, Zen Wistalia
Rating: General
Status: Beta-ed chapter by Kartara. Please check out her profile and support her works
I woke up by dawn, having slept fitfully. Unable to muster sleep again, I spent the next two hours training with my sword. Wistal castle is quiet after last night's revelry. I was told by Maruko that it was every inch a success. And since today is Ærra Jeola, the castle is run by a skeletal staff. Many of the servants, palace guards, and officials went home to celebrate the occasion with their family and loved ones.
I should be celebrating as well, but with the demands of running a country, each year, there seems to be less and less time for such idleness. Each of us-that is, my mother, Zen and I-have adopted a habit of doing other things to celebrate the occasion on our own.
In my case, my training continues without a pause.
When I was growing up, sword training has always been one of my favorite activities, next to hunting and playing chess. It's a form of meditation for me. My mother, the Queen, has employed the best tutors to teach me the art of sword-fighting. My natural talent with a blade was honed to perfection. When I reached my fifteenth year of age, no one could best me in a combat, and I continue my training to this day.
The sword I held made satisfying sounds as I swiftly slashed the air before me. I should be concentrating on the dilemma I have on hand. But my mind is divided. My eyes are not even focusing on what I am doing. Instead, it keeps on replaying the things that has passed: Zen growing up, my investiture as the crown prince of Clarines, Shirayuki's red hair rustled by the wind, the scent of apples, Zen's request to allow Shirayuki to live with him.
Shhiiinngg!
I looked up.
For a moment, I scrutinize the empty open gallery above me. It felt like someone is watching me.
Sweat beaded my forehead as my eyes narrowed a little, counting the seconds of my beating heart.
A lone guard ambled along the corridor in a slow fashion, the tip of his spear pointing to the ceiling above him. It's not unusual for a guard to make rounds around the castle grounds, so why does it feel like danger seemed to be lurking?
"Your Highness?"
I whirled about and found Maruko standing a few feet away, carrying a tray with drinks and a folded towel to wipe the sweat from my face. His brow was knotted with concern. "I've been calling you a few times, Prince Izana. Are you feeling unwell?"
It took me a few seconds to get my instincts under control. By the Gods, what is wrong with me? I couldn't shake the feeling that whoever was watching me was doing it intently, as if studying my every move to memorize it. It was unsettling.
Lifting my hand, I reached for the towel. I then beckoned a servant hovering behind Maruko and handed the sword to him, which he took and sheathed it.
I wanted to convince myself that it was just my imagination, but it wasn't. My eyes darted to the corners of the courtyard, noting that my shadow guards are in place.
"Has my brother woke up?" I asked, distracted.
Maruko handed me a goblet of water, nodding. "About 10 minutes ago. He will be down in the Forest Room for the annual Ærra Jeola breakfast."
I handed the towel back to Maruko. "Very well."
"Ah, Your Highness. I almost forgot." He bid another servant to come forward, this time carrying another tray holding a folded parchment bearing the royal seal.
The Queen's seal.
I reached out for the letter, breaking the wax easily and unfolded the parchment. Our mother's magnificent writing covering the space in the center. I read the contents quickly, noting the greetings of love and blessing with the celebration of Ærra Jeola. She wrote about her health, and how she continues to fare well with the clean, crisp air coming from the mountains, a small passing remark about the frequent attempts of visits from the Bergatt household, and finally, ending with the last part I had been hoping not to see;
Your intention to offer for the hand of Lady Haki of Allulion is well received and approved.
I slowly lowered my hand, heart pounding. I've done it. And the Queen has approved of my intentions.
Taking a deep breath, I folded the parchment and tucked it in the inside pockets of my shirt. Despite the turmoil I feel, I have decided what to do about Zen's request.