The Marked Phoenix: Little Red Bird - Chapter 9

Emerine sauntered into her room and allowed the maid to undress her. She spaced out the entire time while thinking about Kalesin and his prior behavior towards her. Instead of questioning if she was at fault with her stubbornness, she allowed her anger to continue brewing.

“Your Grace, would you like to bathe to be drawn?”

“Yes.” Emerine coldly responded, stepping out of the dress while excusing the maid. Never once did she bother with a “thank you” or a “please.” She believed herself to be above such words. These respectful phrases were only heard by people who would benefit her.

In the full-body mirror inside of her enormous bathroom the size of a bedroom, Emerine could see a reflection of her body, but not half her face. Wearing the veil from sunrise to sunset and even in bed, she often forgot what her face looks like.

When the maids did her make-up or hair, she rarely glanced at herself in the mirror. She was too terrified to look at her face. This was the face that killed her mother. It was something she could not erase or prevent, but it was something she consistently blamed herself for. There hadn’t been any mention towards the late Queen for as long as she could last remember. So much so, that her mother’s name was as much as a blur to her as her face was.

Emerine would never forget the night the veil slipped off her face twelve years ago. At her sixth birthday banquet, she was in such a fit of rage that her father had announced the engagement to the second queen, Emerine had yanked off her veil to spite her father. And she would never forget his murderous face and his enormous hands that seemed to grab for her throat before his advisors could stop him.

Emerine was then sent to her room, even though she was the reason the banquet was being thrown in the first place. For a child as young and innocent as her, it was one of the most traumatizing moments of her life. And the King seemed to have already forgotten about it by the next day.

“Your Highness?” A maidservant quietly spoke up once she saw the Crown Princess was in a daze yet again. “The bath has been prepared.”

Emerine turned her body towards the enormous bath that was the size of a pool. She glanced at the mirror yet again. She saw the permanent mark resting on her lower back, right on her tailbone. The mark depicted a strand of blooming lilac flower curved like a crescent moon with a single sword crossing through it. It was the mark of a Kastrel. No one could take it from her, and no one could replicate it.

“May I inquire what bath oil you wish to be used tonight?” A maid gently asked as Emerine strolled towards the bath. Her eyes swept over the small stairs leading straight into the water. “I don’t care,” she muttered before stepping into the steaming water without warning.

The maidservant should’ve flinched at the sight of their princess stepping into water hot enough to boil her skin, but they were used to the scene. For some unknown reason, the Princess was not affected by fire or heat. It’s rumored the reason for this began on the day of her birth. A phoenix had flown over the kingdom and the very sight of it was enough to bring prosperity to everything below it. People whispered about the Princess’s magnificent luck to have a scream strong enough to beckon the Phoenix, but a few whispered about her sinful crime of murder a second before she was born.

– – – – –

By the time Emerine finished bathing and was dressed in a heavy nightgown, an hour had passed. Sitting on her bed, she couldn’t help but swing her legs in boredom while the maid thoroughly blowdried her hair with a device

Emerine wanted to laugh at how much of a hypocrite her father was. He wanted this entire palace to resemble a castle from the ancient times, but almost everything used in the castle was modern and utilized either magic crystals or affinity dust.

Bored, her hand played with the edges of her veil. Suddenly, a crash could be heard a few meters away from her door. The noise was faint, but her hearing was sharp from archery. Instead, she lazily stood up and walked towards the door, poking her head outside. The noise seemed to have stopped, but she was still curious.

“Your Highness, where are you going?!” A maidservant gasped when Emerine slipped on a night-hood and was about to escape out the door.

“Oh, right. The archer.” She said before turning towards the window and guiding a maidservant to a spot the window could not see.

“Undress,” Emerine instructed, surprising the maidservant who glanced at her in horror.

“I beg your pardon?” She squeaked out, her eyes nervously darting towards the door and then the window. When Emerine threw a scalding glare in her direction, the maidservant began to undress with shaky hands.

“Give me your clothes. You’ll wear mine and pretend to be me.” Emerine commanded as they swapped outfits. She believed the faint crash might be Kalesin’s signal for her to slip into the night. They had escaped into the night before. Once, when she was distraught from a bloody nightmare, he had guided her to the garden while she nervously rambled about random topics. He lent her an open ear, willing to listen to everything she babbled about.

Emerine nodded towards her bed and instructed the maid, “You don’t have to lie down on it. Just sit on top of it. Face the door with your back towards the window.” She glanced at the maidservant’s dull blond hair and said, “I’m glad you’re the one who remained behind tonight. Don’t fail me.” she lifted a few strands of the maidservant’s hair and examined it with disinterest, “If you do, its death. If you don’t, I’ll reward you.”

The maidservant rapidly nodded her head. As instructed, she walked towards the bed, mindful to keep her hair as a curtain that covered her face.

Emerine examined herself in the mirror and sighed upon realizing she didn’t move like a servant. Her actions should be a bit more sharp, less graceful and fluid. She tilted her head and wondered if she should keep her head lowered like her servant or held high just as her status allowed her to.

Shrugging to herself, she decided if she was going to pretend to be a servant, she should play the part. And with a final glance at the maid nervously sitting on the bed, behaving as told, Emerine slipped out the door. Into the night she ventured, and into the night she shall vanish.