A/N - Another chapter! Hope you enjoy it :)
"I'm just a mess, Myrtle. I have known her for all of two or three moons. I didn't know she was even a maiden, Myrtle. I thought she would be a prince, that she would be one of those men that didn't care about their queens, that go out at night to find the company of another woman. I didn't think that it would be… her."
"I know, my sweet little princess, I know." the woman hugged her tight, not knowing what else to say or do for the girl she had seen grow up in her arms. Twenty five years had passed, she had been getting older and older, from a scared little girl to a grown woman. Myrtle had taught her almost everything she knew.
Almost.
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"Tie her corset tighter, Leonora." the arrogant blonde woman told as she briefly watched her daughter try on the wedding dress that had been sewn with her specifically in mind. It was an absolutely astonishing dress, the most beautiful one that the princess had ever seen. It had a fitted, hand beaded corset and embroidered silk, laced up on the sides. It's formidable design resembled a rose, Cordelia had noticed. The softest and prettiest lace she had ever seen on a dress was paired with the delicate sweetheart neckline bordered by soft rose bud lace and pearls, and long sleeves. "We have to hide these ugly marks you have on your skin. I can't believe you're my daughter…" the queen told with disdain, walking around Cordelia. "You make such a beautiful maiden, Cordelia. It's a shame you are such a disgrace." she added with a sigh before walking out of the room. Cordelia stared at the closing door with sad eyes, knowing very well that it was better to not comment than to reply to her mother's backhanded compliments. Silence filled the room, only to be interrupted by Myrtle a few moments later.
"Are you certain you've chosen properly, your highness?" Myrtle asked, eyes focused on helping the seamstress with the last details of her dress, sticking needles into the hems of the dress and on the back, adjusting it to fit Cordelia's petite figure. The young woman looked at the maid with a questioning look before going back to staring at her reflection.
"Yes. Mother said that she wanted an alluring ball gown, and I have no doubts that my mother prefers this kind of dress." she told with false decisiveness, running her fingertips over the lace and the rhinestones of the corset. Of course, she was oblivious to Myrtle's worries.
"No, I didn't mean that." the woman told, holding the dress for the seamstress and inspecting the magnifique lace that covered the skirt. Once the work was done, she undid the lace of the corset and helped Cordelia out of it, not saying a word until the dress was left to sit on top of the bed.
"What did you mean, then?" the princess asked, turning to look at the older woman. She had always been straightforward with her, like a mother with her, never keeping anything left unsaid. "Myrtle…" she could see worry inside the woman's eyes, as if something were meant to be told and hadn't been. The red-headed woman stared at her, pondering her options. If she spoke up, Cordelia would no doubt want to confront her mother— and that would probably end up in the princess' death. If she didn't, she would still feel dead inside for lying to the girl she had taken care of for so many years.
"Nothing, your highness."
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EIGHTEEN YEARS BEFORE
The walls of the castle had been recently tinted black, the Queen's magic still floating through them as she waited impatiently for one of her messengers to arrive. Finally, when Fiona of Orleans was on the brink of a destructive rage, the messenger entered the throne room and bowed to the evil, arrogant queen, who glared at him with an inquisitive look. "You said you wanted to see me?"
The messenger swallowed hard and gave her a nod. "I bring a message from the Southern Swamplands, my queen." the man told, looking at her and then reaching for a parchment he carried in his travel bag. Unfolding it, he started reading. "King Magnus and his wife, Queen Innocence, are delighted to invite Queen Fiona of Orleans to spend a few moons at their palace to celebrate the Queen's expectancy of a firstborn. The celebration will take place in the summer solstice and the two following moons."
The queen raised a brow at the information, then nodded. "Well done. You are dismissed." Still, the messenger hesitated, lowering his eyes and making the queen frown. She studied the man's face, reading his mind— that was one of her most valued powers. "You have more to say. Do continue."
The messenger nodded again. "The King requests your presence in a private meeting the night before the celebrations start, your majesty. It seems that a seer has made a prophecy that seems to involve your kingdom." he told, looking at her so she would see that he didn't lie.
"You've done well to tell me." she informed, before dismissing him. She then stood and turned to Myrtle, who stood near the throne, waiting for the queen to command her to do some task. "Prepare my carriage and travel clothes, and go tell the captain that I request four soldiers to accompany me to the Southern Swamplands. We'll leave tomorrow at the sunrise."
"Shall I prepare princess Cordelia's travel bag too?" Myrtle asked. It was rare the occasion when the king and queen left without the young girl, but after the King's death the girl had started to become more and more forgotten. Fiona looked at her with disdain and pondered her options, deciding not to let the girl accompany her. Whatever it was what this prophecy spoke of, Fiona would keep it from her daughter at all costs.
Three moons later, before it got dark, the black carriage crossed the doors of the white walled palace, a group of several servants quickly going to retrieve the visitors. The king went to greet them moments later, accompanied by his wife. None of them smiled, but yet they showed cordiality and welcoming manners— though Fiona knew that she had never been welcome in the south. After dinner that night, the king had commanded for the seer to enter the room and had made all of the servants leave. Myrtle, as curious as someone could be, hid behind a statue and listened closely to what the seer told.
"It happened two moons ago, your majesty. I was in the woods, walking through the trees to find ingredients for the healing potions I sell, when I had a vision. Moments later, I found myself fetching this parchment and writing this down." she unfolded it and started reading with a trembling voice, the old woman's back arched forward as she dropped her eyes to the paper.
"On the darkness of the fourth moon of the eighteenth year,
when the sun is down and the moon rises high above the calm water,
the supernaturals of the south and the north will meet and mark themselves,
to fight the devil that taints their lands and divides them."
"Impossible." Fiona told, standing up and walking forward to take the piece of parchment, only to discover that it was blank. "You are such a fool, there aren't any words written in here! And you two, why do you believe this old hag?!" the queen rolled her eyes and stood up. Her skeptical manners were just a pure facade, an internal fear making its way through her body. The supernaturals of the south and the north. It was impossible. Witches had been erased from their kingdom and any nearing land many years before she had gotten married with the king, with the exception of her— she was of a royal family, nothing could harm her. Or at least she had thought so, until she heard the prophecy. The devil that taints their lands and divides them.
"Possible. Very, very possible." King Magnus told with his deep voice, knowing that whatever this prophecy was, it concerned them. The only supernatural that he had knowledge of in the north was the Orleans queen— she could have fooled everyone else, but not him. He could see through her dark eyes and straight into her equally as dark, empty soul, and her aura, colored with a powerful shade of black. "In fact, I have a proposition for you, your majesty."
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Misty sighed, watching her mother fix the lacy fabric of the skirt of her long, white dress with attentive eyes. She was kneeling beside the bed, face resting on the mattress as she observed her mother with a pout. "But mother, she will wear a sophisticated ball gown, I won't look good enough for princess 'Delia!"
"Sweetheart, it's okay. She is going to marry you, and she seems to…" the woman fell silent for a second. Misty had talked with her about the other princess' words, not repeating them but giving the queen a general idea of the talk. "... feel attracted to you. You two will be okay." she smiled and leaned forward to kiss her daughter's forehead, then went back to her task.
"But the dress—" Misty started again with worry, only to be interrupted by her mother.
"The dress is perfect, Misty. You are a princess, but you are a knight too. And you know the traditions of this land, they have never celebrated a wedding like this." The woman told with sadness. It was true that in their kingdom they had never had the kind of boundaries that this land had, and that traditions were too different between both kingdoms, but that would not stop the southern family from marrying their daughter to the girl she seemed to adore. "You will wear a dress that is humble, while princess Cordelia will wear one that is more complex. Now put it on."
"Okay." the girl obeyed, standing up with her arms in the air and then letting her mother slip the dress over her head. It fell over her body graciously, covering it quickly. She turned around and then pursed her lips, the dress being a bit too big for her. "Mother, it's too wide!" she complained, receiving a laugh from her mother in response.
"I still have to lace the corset, dear." the woman told, skillful fingers starting to cross the laces and tie it tight, slowly starting to leave Misty slightly breathless. She looked at her mother with a panicked look, and the woman chuckled. "Don't worry dear, we won't tie it like this tomorrow."
"Okay…" the princess stared at her reflection, waiting for her mother to finish. She usually didn't care of what people thought about her, knowing that their opinions would not matter to them, but still she cared about Cordelia's opinion, since she really wanted to impress Cordelia. Once she was done, the girl twirled around, looking at her new dress and studying it. "It's beautiful... " she whispered, then giggled and went to hug her mother, whispering in her ear. "But if she doesn't think I look okay in this dress then I'm never speaking to you again." she pulled back and giggled, then started untying the laces of her corset.
Short chapter, the prophecy is revealed! Reviews will be very appreciated!