Back in the palace, the meeting request that Countess Cassandra proposed has been ratified by the elders, regarding the matter that no one is to take the throne at the moment. There is no explanation why they would put up with the solution of making Chimera the queen, but it seems that the Countess has been able to beguile them.
"That woman is never out of subterfuge." Musa hisses, as she puts on her purple boots to get ready. They are all changing from flashy princess-like gowns into their missionary outfits, which they favor more. "Evil seems to be her congenital characteristic already."
Bloom looks up, and though she does not want to begrudge anyone, she has to agree with that statement.
"There's nothing we can do, right?" Aisha lets out a heavy sigh, the annoyance is almost palpable. "Like the Trix, the evil root has planted deep inside their heart."
"The world just has this nefarious side to it that we must accept."
The girls nod in consensus. But then again, a too peaceful life would not be so worthy to live anymore.
A knock on the door interrupted the trace of perspicacious thoughts towards the possibilities that one day there will be no more evil, and what they would be doing now. A fervent smile on Sky's face appears as he pops his head in.
"Ready?"
"We should jump in before Stella gets sick of the tedium in there." Aisha cracks a joke in reply, and follows the rest of the girls out.
"Hey."
Joseph pokes Stella with a stick he found near the cell. The princess turns her body onerously, making a contorted face.
"Let me sleep…"
"You've been sleeping for hours already. Was that not enough? Is it prevalent that all princesses are this lazy?" Continuing his poking method, Joseph frowns. Something is not right. She looks even more jaded than yesterday after sleeping.
As Stella's breathing speed seems to wax, turning heavier and heavier, he reaches his hand through the cold cells to her pinkish skin.
It's hot. It's freaking hot, to the point that nearly petrified him.
"Hey you!" He calls, and curses when she mumbles some nebulous sounds back, still shutting her eyes.
Joseph stumbles out to get a receptacle of water. He feels an unexplainable fear through his body, unsure why he would be so gratuitously good to a prisoner. The half of him that negates this subversive act is trying to fight back the fear of her being imperiled, and he has never felt so belied before. He endeavors to blame her geniality towards him the night before, that she bewitched him somehow, but it is only elusive – he cannot think of the altruistic princess that way.
Shifting his focus back to the princess, Joseph carries her head closer to him, doing his best in spite of the metal cells between them. He carefully pour the spoon of fluid into her mouth, hoping she would not spill it. He cannot break the cells anyhow – the Countess could come any minute, and he would not risk exacerbating the situation.
The stigma of her fever turns obvious, and weightier as she starts to sweat, her body temperature feels unbearable through his palm. How much water is suffice? He does not know. He knows nothing about taking care of a patient. Leave a lone a princess helplessly panting in front of him.
However, there is one sheer thing that he knows for sure: he is in love with her now. And his covets for her would not subside so easily, for he is afraid of what he would do without these cells separating them.
Gently drying a piece of wet fabric, Joseph puts it on the princess's forehead. What is her name again? Funny how he was captured by her salient pure smile, and heard all about her past, yet he seemed to stay ignorant about her name.
Stella, he thinks. He remembers the Countess mumbling and cursing her names in ire, but he never had a single bit of interest back then. All he cared was the perquisite he can receive after this, and then he would fled the kingdom, to some other land and earn another amount of money there. Not falling in love with some girl like a young teenage boy.
She turns her body again, making blonde long strands of hair veiling her face. Joseph reaches out again, putting the hair back in its place, carefully as to not awake the princess.
"Brandon…"
He stiffens at the name. Isn't this Brandon the one he has transformed into? Right, he remembers it now. She has someone she likes. And he even imposed that person to lure her. A sudden urge of jealousy whets in him.
A deafening sound bursts out, alarming him of a raid from outside. Joseph, now unencumbered from his tangling emotions, places his hand ready on his sword.
"Stella!"
A brown-haired fellow rushes in, and Joseph recognizes him right away. Half abash in recalling her mumbling that guy's name, half agonized in imagining what they do together as a couple, Joseph kicks open the cells. As the metal pieces being spurned away, he picks up the princess, holding her firm in his arms. Surely the Countess would not mind him taking the prisoner to a safer place, in case of an invasion.
"Keep your filthy hands off her!" Cries the other lad, his eyes filled with anger.
Irritated by the apparition that this Brandon seems to be also in love with the girl as much as he is, Joseph tightens his arms around her waist. The princess still feels hotter than ever, and he knows for sure it does her no good to stay in this battle.
Shoving into his pocket, Joseph pulls out a small jar of purple liquid – a spell that he always carries in case of emergency. He cares no more for his safety or his perquisite anymore. At the moment, the only thing matters to him is this frail girl.
Smirking in complacency to hide his wistfulness, Joseph lowers his head, and places a gentle kiss on her soft blushing cheek.
"A good luck for me from Her Highness," he whispers, before pouring out the purple spell on the ground, and drops the princess through its gate.