The Sapphire Prince - Chapter 28

As the sundews devour another buŧŧerfly, one monarch flew to where the black widows are. She found herself in a beautiful haven of webs, only to be salvaged for the spider did not want her any harm. She bent down and sat on a free space.

An unusual sight to see a monarch buŧŧerfly and a widow sitting for tea on a bright sunny afternoon just a courtyard away from the Cynthia’s mansion.

“Your highness, what brings you to my humble county?” Asked the black widow.

“I’ve come here for an agreement but before so, I’d like to catch up with a friend, Cacious.”

The monarch said before sipping her tea.

“Cacious has died. Of so many breaks and failures, how can one not kill rid himself of disappointment.” He replied.

“Then who am I speaking to?” The empress smiled, she knew of Cacious’ mental and intended to play along to get what she dėsɨrėd.

The hands of the count started quivering, almost unable to keep the tea in his cup. Narrowed eyebrows, tight grip on the handle followed by clench, he threw the cup at one of the servants, there the servant bruised and bleeding.

“Oh! My head-” Upon the grimaced of the count, the servant stopped her cries and bowed.

No one screamed nor even cared to help the poor woman, instead the servant walked away trying her best not to appear rude on the table.

“Learn to control your temper. Most undignified Cacious.” The empress dwindled her tea and upon looking at her “Friend” she sneered and gracefully laid her drink down.

“You want something from me…” Cacious in said looking sadly at his piece of bread.

“Indeed, I want you to agree with me. Your debt to me isn’t paid by a quarter inch. You remember of our small adventure down on Winston Abbey.” The empress looked at the far east where she could see a young daughter flying her kite.

“Don’t you dare make me remember!” The count shouted but the empress was unscathed by his speech.

Indeed when the count owes Miranda for his salvation. To seal a very auspicious beginning of a coalition, they signed a paper. An alliance, even with the bleak argument in between society, the paper was never ablolidhed much like the count and the empress’ personal regards.

“I’m a woman of trade, so I’ll let your debt in for another time. So…Do you want something from me?” The empress asked.

Cacious took his time to process. While waiting, the empress once again sealed her gaze on the girl flying her kite. Unlike Mimosa, the empress never had the daughter she dėsɨrėd. Dismayed by her predicament, she couldn’t help but feel disappointed at herself.

She always preyed on the idea of having another child, only that his husband won’t let her. Their intimacy has grown very sour and not one night in bed together have they thought of ŀust for one another, instead they felt a tad bit disgusted.

“The girl is my third daughter, Amelia. A priced

diamond by the late mistress.” Cacious in a rare sight beamed. Even with the craze in his mind, he still has that fatherly nature ahead of him.

Amelia was a very potent young lady. Her looks makes her as deceiving for she was like a morning pearl left by God. Deep red hair matching her porcelain skin, freckles gained from her mother’s grace and eyes that resemble peridots.

“So I see, she has the hair of the Diamond lineage.” The empress chuckled then drank what’s remaining in her teacup.

“It made me quite sour to think so.” The count added meeting his daughter’s eyes. From a distance, she waved and in return, so did her father.

The empress sighed then faked a cough. The count went again into a deep thought before he finally spoke half an hour later.

“And you what do you want from me?” He asked.

The empress found it rather funny, the count already knew what he dėsɨrėd. In the span of 30 minutes he tried to guess what might the empress want with him, as mentioned that she was there by no means of the resort of the imperial parliament. Of her own personal reason did she want to talk.

“Your daughters.” The empress replied then another moment of silence.

The quivering grew stronger as did Cacious’ smile. It widened almost to his ears and his eyes were opened too wide as if it could pop out at any moment. He was about to rid himself out of order but no, he had to remain calm or else he’d admit his defeat.

“You already know what I mean.” The empress poured oil, then she fanned the flames. Cacious’ quivering had made table rattle as well.

“What…do you…want…with them?” He asked.

“A marriage.”

Just as so, the count had thrown everything off the table, the sound of broken glass seemed endless until it did. He stood up and pointed the knife at the empress. The empress could hear the pain and doom surrounding his heart, it seemed like too many shadows voicing the same thing…”Love” She felt sorry but it wasn’t what she came for.

“One daughter is all I ask.” She said matching Cacious’ grounds. Intentionally coming closer to the edge of the knife where just one more harsh move it will slice her nose bridge.

“HA…HAHAHAHAH! I will not have your son’s bastard bear the blood of a Cynthia, you and your passion…your requests, are nothing but already withered flowers!” The count forced his legs to stay still but his hands were all like leaves amidst a storm.

“Then I’m afraid I’ll issue you the debt as I’ve mentioned.” The empress then held the knife’s blade. Her glove soon drenched in monarch’s blood, she pulled the knife closer to her neck then she grimaced.

“You thought of some long debt would confine me?!” The count was in a nerve wracking play danced and lead by the empress, his friend, his ally…

“You’d repeat what happened in Winston? Where the alley would hear a silent scream then the drips of blood harrowed by the rain.” She said as blood continued to drop…second by second.

“I…Ah…AHHH! NO! I DID NOT MEAN IT! AH…AHHH.” The count sobbed an agony of screams like crows, yet the smile etched across his face seemed to be former than before. He remembers what happened in Winston, that awful day in the Winston Abbey.

The empress threw the bloodshed knife beside him. She ungloved her hand then wrapped it around her arms, tight laced and knotted very precisely almost as if she was used in the medical arts.

“It wasn’t me…It was something, someone else.” The count cried.

The empress thought that his daughter heard, and yet the girl was still there flying her kite, not a care in the world that she just looked upon the cloudy skies with his hair guided east by the gales.

“I will give you a week, then I’ll come back for your answer. Remember what you regret, one day you’ll learn how to dangle with he soul of your past victim.” The empress then walked away from the scene. The count, powerless, could do nothing but smile and cry.

“You’re that servant who was shot by the count?” Asked the mysterious daughter. She smiled at the servant and took her time to look at her wounds.

“I’ll treat you dearly.” She added before taking the servant into an unused parlor. A scream was heard across the halls of bronze and gold. The servant, in the last breaths she had spent in the mansion, remembered her family.

“The day will grace you dearly.”

With that….the servant was never seen again.