The late Duke Randall's funeral was a farce of a spectacle, despite in life he had many friends. How quickly do those that had once relied on her father and pledged lasting loyalty show their true colors the moment he was gone.
Athusa angled the umbrella she clenched tight in her hand. The icy rain of the wretched day was a soothing balm for her growing anger at the attending nobles whom seemed to more treat the ceremony as a social gathering rather than to mourn the Chancellor. Frivolous talk filled her ears as she passed: talk between those that hadn't seen each other in a while, talk about the latest events at the capital, or talk of the last trending in fashion and jewelry or other most coveted merchandise. Occasionally there would be a whisper here and there of how well the princess - of how well she was handling herself in this event. To put on the face of being the epitome of aristocratic grace was easy when the eyes could see only insincerity and the heart was grieving.
The king, his purported best friend, was nowhere to be seen. Athusa supposed she should not be surprised. Towards the end, it was said His Majesty and her father had disagreed on near all matters of governance of the state. How quickly the favor of monarchs come, she considered, and how even quicker it goes.
Carlene, her maidservant, was also not present. She had gone with the family butler Tybalt to oversee over the resignations of the estate servants.
I will pay my respects to the lord afterwards. If we don't watch over them, my lady. The girl had said. Some of them might think to steal from you otherwise.
Raven black hair caught her eyes. A young man was placing flowers so carefully on her father's casket. The snapdragons provided a splash of lovely pink color amidst the sea of white. White flowers, white casket, the even whiter snow. He had brought her father's favorite flower: the same which the duke had said resembled her eyes. This was someone who truly knew her father and the gesture was almost affectionate.
In these territories of the Vierwich duchy, the visitor's midnight hair was a rare sight, even though his pale silver eyes that seemed to drain of color are of these northern lands. Eucemon Anton Carelle, the Second Prince. He didn't look like he was here on official request of the king: not when dressed this simply.
"Your Highness." She greeted as she approached, before lowering her head. "Athusa Limine Randall greets the kingdom's little star." She paused.
"Thank you for visiting my father."
"I wanted to see him one last time." Came the quiet acknowledgement.
She looked surprised. Her engagement to the Second Prince had once been said to be a betrothal for the ages.
Knowledge is the key to power and the Ark is the primordial library of this world. Life began from the stars, so said the scholars, from an Ark that transversed the great expanse of the Void to come here to seed a world tree: a fountain of code for all sorts of life. But the Arks were not singular events and the Impacts from the stars could occur again and vie to change the texture and denizens of the world.
One Ark brought life.
Another, the gift of magic.
And the third: power that is said to be godlike for some.
With the third Impact - the third Reseeding - were born certain children whom were both less and more than human. Supernaturally gifted so, but paying the price for unmatched power in return with one of the fundamental human aspects. Some call the Star Seeds akin to spirits of nature, some call them nothing more than demons, with how strange they were when unable to conceive certain fundamental human emotions. A gift from the Ark for a price and Eucemon, before her, was unable to feel the fundamental human emotion of joy. The late queen was said to have come across by chance caretakers of the Ark - terminals - on a visit back to these snowy homelands of hers before she eventually gave birth to a son that was marked so by the divine library. It was inevitable that he had been considered by the king unfit to rule - little better than a walking weapon with terrible magic power.
He's a long way from home too. She thought. He must have given the imperial guards the slip.
She was somewhat aware of her father's work with the Star Seeds: the Grand Duke Randall perhaps had been the greatest proponent of their civil rights and had fervently campaigned against their mistreatment. This kingdom that had not considered the Star Seeds as people of their own right had applauded the magic institute's design of soul resonance magic. Qualifying mages that were Links to act as tethers for Star Seeds. She was said to have met the requisites: one with innate affinity for magic predisposed to involving the mind.
Thus her engagement to the Second Prince was once said to be a betrothal for the ages: a noble of the highest ranking family, the daughter of a great friend of the king, someone expected to be the handler of the imperial family's weapon, to be the handler of Eucemon, who is more nature spirit than man. Yet though the king had passed over Eucemon as a possible successor, the First Prince Entymion was far worse: inept and cruel despite being fully and utterly human but backed by his powerful political faction and their Star Seeds. Her father had once expressed dismay of what could become of the kingdom should Entymion come fully to power one day.
Her father's roadside carriage accident, Athusa thought, expression darkening. It could not possibly have been coincidence.
"Do you want to break our engagement?" She asked suddenly. All their lives, her father had sought to delay the arrangement longer and longer. She understood that bit of his heart: it seemed he had cared for the Second Prince and wanted Eucemon to be able to have the chance to choose.
"Athusa." He responded. "My brother likely was involved."
Her eyes widened at his next words.
"Make a Contract with me."