I lay in bed, eyes wide open as I stare at the golden ceiling. A huge chandelier hangs from the center of it, decorated with diamonds.
There still remains a problem… the problem of the prophecy. I couldn't give Duarte a straight answer when he asked. Why did my powers fail? And why did I see my own future?
It is not forbidden to tell your own future, but it's best to avoid doing so… because you might sacrifice the present at the cost of knowledge. If you know when you will die, you will obsess over it. If you know who your soulmate will be, you will not pay attention to others in your life.
And my own future seemed so unstable when I looked at it.
I take a look at my tarot cards. They are in that little box, waiting for me to take them in my hand. I feel the pull to take them and see, for the first time, what the cards hold in store for me… I have a feeling I've come to a dangerous place. But surely not as dangerous as the wagon where I lived, being scorned and beaten?
I know well, though, that this peace comes at a price…
"My Lady?" Larimar's voice interrupts me. I sit up. She looks apologetic.
"Were you sleeping?" she nervously asks.
"No." I shake my head. "I was just thinking about this place. It's… quite gilded."
"Everything the Lord does is gilded." Larimar smiles. "Please, come with me. Citrine is ready."
I nod and get up, my worn clothes hanging from my body. It will be nice to change them.
Once again, we make our way through the halls… seeing them for the second time is not any less impressive. However, all this wealth blinds me…
I do not notice a cloaked figure behind a pillar, watching us leave.
---
Larimar leads me to the floors below. It seems this is where other servants live, the ones who will not accompany me or Duarte directly. The ones who clean the palace and scrub the floors. Still, the quarters are beautiful. It's obvious these workers weren't just shoved into dirty closets.
I don't believe it was Duarte's heart of gold at play though, or empathy. It was probably just him despising mess and dirt. Keeping up appearances.
"This is the place," Larimar says, stopping in front of a large door. "Citrine's workshop. If you need anything—any clothes, for any occasion—feel free to intrude at any time."
I am not sure if Citrine, whoever she is, would approve of Larimar's hospitality on her behalf, but whatever.
Larimar knocks and then opens the door.
There is. A huge. Mess. Everywhere.
Fabrics lying on the floor, scissors tossed left and right, mannequins shoved in the corner… I blink. Not because I despise the mess but because I cannot believe Duarte would allow anything like this.
"I'm coming, I'm coming!" I hear a high-pitched voice from a large door within the workshop. In a second it opens and a small dragoness stumbles out. In her hand is a glass of some golden-looking liquid. She waltzes over to us with a huge grin.
She is small, petite, but not weak. Her skin is light yellow, matching her yellow hair which is braided in a long braid and wrapped around her head. Small horns protrude from the top of her head.
"Now now, this is the girl who stole our Lord's heart?" she chuckles. She's obviously tipsy… and I'm not sure how willing I am to let her near me with scissors. Not in that state. "Oh, let me take a good look at you…"
She spins me around, pinches my arms and stomach, then lifts up my chin, as if studying me.
"Well, you are certainly no beauty," she comments as she continues inspecting me like cattle.
"Citrine!" Larimar frowns in shock. "That's our new Lady… please, show some respect!"
"Hah! I will call coal coal, and diamond a diamond." Citrine shrugs. "And besides, I hardly think beauty is everything, my darling. I'd rather have a smart ruler than a beautiful one… someone who can saddle our Lord, who can play the game."
Our eyes meet. I don't mind this woman at all, actually.
"And our new Lady's eyes are quite clear." Citrine stares deep into them… and I don't blink or look away. "Befitting of a Seer."
I say nothing. I just hold my head up, proud.
"Larimar, leave us alone… me and the Lady have quite a few things to chat about." Citrine puts down her glass of ambrosian wine.
Larimar gives me a worried look. "I'll speak to Dioptase and help her with servant organization."
"Good, make yourself useful." Citrine pushes her out of the door and slams it behind her, then turns to me.
"Shall we start?" She smiles as she takes out the measuring tape.
---
"A woman with red hair… that's what you saw?"
Two hooded figures stand in the gardens. Their cloaks are long, serving to mask their faces and their bodies. Both of them have a little brooch on their chests—little bloodstone gemstones. A sign of recognition; of knowing who your ally was, and who was just trying to pass off as one. After all, these little gems carried an aura that was centuries and centuries old… and any dragon could pick up on it.
"Yes, Algodonite," the other figure says. "I don't know who she is, or what her role is… but Larimar led her to the chambers reserved for the Queen."
The man—known apparently as Algodonite—hums as he gets lost in thought.
"And Itzamatul is keeping all of it under the covers…" he mumbles. "He knows the Old Blood won't be happy."
"But would he really expect us not to notice?" the other figure replies.
"Perhaps he's simply preparing the terrain… setting up the chessboard." Algodonite frowns. "This is not good at all… and Celestia won't be happy when it hears about this. He is breaking the contract. And if there is anyone who loves contracts more than our Lord…"
"It's Celestia," the other figure finishes for him.
"That's right. Go now, Proteus. I'll inform the other members."
Proteus smiles… and even with his hooded face, even in the dark, Algodonite can clearly see his beautiful smile.
"Not without a kiss, my darling dear."
"You are greedy. And putting us in danger, my love."
"Then give me what I want and I'll disappear."
Algodonite leans over… his fingers cup Proteus' face. The kiss is sweet, though short—just a peck.
"Now go. We have a lot of work to do."
---
When Proteus leaves, Algodonite stays, alone and lost in thought. He raises his gaze and sees a white dove perched on one of the roofs of the palace.
"Go on. Tell your Mistress what's happening," he whispers to himself as the dove meets his eyes… before spreading its wings and flying away. "Celestia will know soon enough anyway."