The words struck harder than she intended, lingering in the air like a blade half-drawn. But then she sighed, her shoulders softening. "Very well. I will do as you wish."
The emperor said nothing. His face betrayed no emotion, but his hands tightened faintly at his sides.
They sat there in silence, the distance between them wider than the pond that stretched before the porch. Minutes passed with only the faint rustle of leaves.
At last, Jasmine spoke again, her tone as polite as it was dismissive. "Is that all? I would like to continue reading."
He remained still a moment longer, then inclined his head. Rising to his feet, he turned to go. But just before stepping off the porch, he hesitated, leaning down ever so slightly to brush his hand gently against her head.
She frowned, a soft grunt escaping her lips in annoyance, but did not push him away.
The emperor left the courtyard in silence, his tall figure retreating with heavy steps.
Jasmine watched him go until he disappeared beyond the archway. Only then did she reopen her book, her dark hair spilling over her pale face like ink on parchment.
She did not sigh. She did not smile. She simply read on.
...
By midday, the sun filtered warmly through the lattice screens of the courtyard, painting dappled patterns across the wooden porch. Jasmine sat exactly where she had been that morning, posture unyielding, though the book before her had changed.
Mana Theory.
Her pale fingers turned the pages with absent elegance as she nibbled on delicate cookies laid neatly upon a porcelain plate. The faintest trace of sugar dusted her lips, though her expression remained cool, unbothered. Her servant, Lilian, stood a respectful step behind her chair, hands folded before her, silent as the koi gliding through the pond below.
Peace did not last.
Footsteps approached. She knew at once they were not her father's. There was no measured weight of command in them, no authority. They were lighter, yet purposeful.
An unwelcome visitor.
Jasmine's dark lashes lowered ever so slightly, her displeasure plain. When the tall figure entered the courtyard, the afternoon breeze tugging gently at his golden hair, she did not bother to lift her gaze from the page.
Alaric. Her brother.
Nineteen years old. One of the less insufferable ones, if only because he had the sense to keep his arrogance in check. Their father's halls overflowed with children, sons and daughters born to wives, consorts, and concubines. They bickered, schemed, flaunted, and preened, each vying for attention and position. To Jasmine, they were little more than noisy pests gnawing at the edges of her silent solitude.
Alaric, at least, had the courtesy not to whine. In fact, he was one of the very few who at least seemed to care for her. Most of the others outright scorned and mocked her. Mostly because of her physical appearance, others, influenced by their own mothers, hated her because of who her own mother was, the favoured consort who had died more than twelve years ago while giving birth to Jasmine.
Their insults usually ranged from simple mockery to open hostile threats, and some unsavoury comments like, 'The child of a whore.'
It was no secret that Jasmine looked vastly different from both her parents and any of her many half-siblings, so rumors were bound to be spread, and theories would be drawn.
The whisper had bothered her for a time, but she had long detached herself from such inconsequential matters.
"Jasmine," Alaric greeted, trying his utmost to keep his tone carefully neutral.
She inclined her head ever so slightly, a nod of acknowledgment, but her eyes remained on the text before her. The soft rustle of the turning page was louder than her silence.
He lingered, then cleared his throat. "Your birthday is soon. Is there anything you'd like me to get for you?"
Direct. Sensible. He knew better than to dance in circles around her like their father had earlier.
Jasmine's pale lips parted, her voice as cool as the breeze brushing past. "Nothing in particular. I will leave it to your discretion."
Alaric exhaled quietly, his shoulders stiffening. "Right. So that you can say you don't like it and leave it to rot in a corner for eternity… like the other ones."
The words were muttered low, almost to himself.
Jasmine's head lifted slowly, her midnight hair spilling across her shoulders like liquid ink. "Did you say something?"
Alaric froze. His blue eyes widened, and he shook his head quickly. "Nothing!"
His departure was swift, nearly clumsy, as though retreat itself was a form of salvation. He all but fled the porch, leaving the afternoon sunlight and the heavy silence behind.
Jasmine glanced at his back once before returning to her book.
He is going to trip.
And trip he did. A second later, his foot caught on the edge of the stone path, and he lurched forward awkwardly, his arms flailing to catch himself. His face flushed crimson as he managed to stumble back into balance, narrowly avoiding planting himself into the ground.
Jasmine smiled in amusement.
Her eyes lingered on him a moment longer, calm and unreadable, before lowering back to the black-inked page as though nothing had happened.
Lilian, who had watched the entire exchange from her quiet station, pressed her lips tightly together, struggling to suppress the laugh bubbling in her throat.
Interactions with her lady were always a spectacle. The great emperor himself, princes, princesses, all reduced to awkward messes under Jasmine's cool indifference.
But Lilian understood. Jasmine did not despise the company for the sake of cruelty. She simply desired peace. Silence. Stillness.
How the young lady gave off the air of a seasoned elder who had seen all the mysteries of the world was a mystery in itself. Having spent her days with Jasmine since she could barely walk, she probably understood her the most.
And so Lilian, who spent the most time with Jasmine, had perfected the art of invisibility. To move only when needed, to speak only when asked, to anticipate without disturbing.
As Jasmine returned her gaze to Mana Theory, taking another unhurried bite of her cookie, the servant's faint smile faded back into the composure of a shadow.
And the courtyard once again returned to silence.