Only two days remained before the Great Hunt was to commence. Near the western forests , where the ancient woods met the horizon, the hunting grounds were alive with movement. Pavilions of silk and heavy canvas were being raised, and the air rang with the sound of hammers.
In the heart of the Imperial City, the pulse of excitement quickened. The streets swelled with life as nobles from the furthest reaches of the Empire arrived in gilded carriages.
The streets were more crowded than ever, and the local merchants were making a fortune as the city swelled with visitors.
At the central piazza, as was the custom, a circle had formed around the minstrels and poets. A large crowd had gathered to cheer for them and listen to their tales.
Amidst this crowd stood Serena and Lethia, but this time their group had grown.
Since their last encounter, a bond of sisterly affection had blossomed between Serena and Lady Rysa Tacitus. Indeed, Serena had practically swept both Lethia and Rysa into the current of the crowd.
Yet, they were shadowed by an unexpected companion. Vasileios Tacitus, Rysa's elder brother. Having been told of how Lethia and Serena looked after his sister during their previous meeting, he had insisted on joining them, intent on offering his formal gratitude to Lethia.
Unlike their previous visit, the minstrels were not singing of soft pining or unrequited love. Instead, the air grew cold as they began a darker tale... a legend whispered for centuries, dripping with blood and betrayal.
They sang of a woman named Medora. Hundreds of years ago, she was nothing more than a common girl, a nameless slave sold into the cold stone walls of the palace. To the guards and the court, she seemed ordinary, almost invisible. None could have guessed that this quiet servant would one day become the most terrifying Queen the Empire had ever known.
The minstrel struck a low, mourning chord on his lute. The crowd fell silent, the cheerful atmosphere vanishing like mist. He began to chant, his voice raspy and dark.
"Gather 'round, ye lords and common folk,
To hear of a heart that never broke.
Of Medora, the slave with the silent gaze,
Who set the Imperial halls ablaze."
Serena sighed heavily, resting her cheeks in her hands. "Does this mean we are to be denied a song of true love today?" she complained, looking genuinely heartbroken. "Must my ears be starved of romance entirely?"
Rysa slipped her arm through Serena's, trying to comfort her. She looked at Serena and let out a small, soft laugh,
Meanwhile, Lethia stood a few paces apart, her arms tightly folded across her chest. She looked every bit as uninterested as she had during their last outing, her posture rigid as if merely standing there listening to the music was a burden almost too heavy to bear.
Vasileios stood beside Lethia, leaning casually against a stone pillar. A light breeze stirred his light brown hair. His crystal blue eyes remained fixed on Lethia , studying her with a faint smirk.
So this is the ruined flower of the Empire, he thought to himself.
Just as he was lost in his thoughts, the singer's voice rose sharply, cutting through the chatter of the crowd.
Long centuries past, in a market of shame,
A girl was sold without honor or name.
To the Palace she went, a servant so slight,
Hiding a wolf's heart deep from the light.
The Prince was a man of a wandering eye,
With a dozen beauties to hear him sigh.
Medora sought not his love or his bed,
But the golden crown that sat on his head.
She climbed his stairs with a serpent's grace,
Hiding her hunger behind a sweet face.
When the Prince became King, he brought home a bride,
A Queen full of malice, full of pride.
She whipped the low born; she mocked their pain,
But Medora waited, through sun and through rain.
In the moonlit gardens, where the shadows grow tall,
She met a bold Guard by the ivy clad wall.
A tryst in the dark! A secret so deep!
While the king and his queen were fast asleep.
With a lover's sword and a woman's tongue,
The funeral bells for the Queen were soon rung.
The blade of her Guard found the King's weary chest,
And Medora at last put her Master to rest.
Rysa blinked her wide, innocent eyes, looking back and forth between the singer and her brother.
"But... she was a slave," Rysa whispered softly, her voice full of genuine confusion. "If the Prince was kind enough to take her into the palace, why would she want his crown? Shouldn't she just be happy to have a warm place to sleep?"
Vasileios chuckled at his sister's innocence.
Lethia let out a short, dry laugh. "A Prince's heart is a fickle toy, Lady Rysa. Why settle for a man's heart when you can have his kingdom? One lasts a season, the other lasts a lifetime."
Serena grabbed Rysa and moved a full five feet away from Lethia.
On the other hand Vasileios's eyes widened at Lethia's response. Then, a slow smile spread across his face as he thought to himself, A unique creature indeed.
Whispers began to ripple through the crowd, many calling Medora shameless. "How could a woman act this way?" they hissed.
To drown them out, the minstrel resumed the tale, skillfully drawing everyone's attention back to him.
But the people cried out, "No woman shall reign!"
So she drowned their rebellion in rivers of stain.
With her lover beside her, the soil turned to red,
Until all who opposed her were silent and dead.
The throne was now steady, the rule was now cold,
But a Guard is but steel, and she needed gold.
She drew a thin dagger, as sharp as her soul,
To finish the chase and to take full control.
As her love lay dying, his blood on the floor,
She whispered the words that would haunt him evermore,
"You were my treasure, my only regret,
The finest companion that I have met.
But in this world where only ghosts thrive,
A treasure is not enough to survive."
As the tale came to an end, a wave of mixed reactions rippled through the crowd. Some people clapped for the singer's skill, while others began to loudly criticize Medora, calling her a devil and a disgrace.
Rysa looked down, her voice soft and full of sorrow. "Did she ever truly love him? Or was he just a tool for her?"
Lethia looker amazed. A cunning, sharp smile spread across her face. "Well," she remarked, her eyes bright with a cold kind of satisfaction, "it seems coming here today was worth it after all. Who needs a fickle emotion like love, when you can own the world?"
Rysa turned toward her, looking completely shocked, as if she couldn't believe anyone would actually side with someone so cruel.
Vasileios watched Lethia's reaction closely, letting out a low, amused chuckle. He seemed intrigued by her ruthless logic.
Serena just rolled her eyes, looking between Lethia and the minstrel with an exhausted expression.
"Honestly, Lethia," she said, "I'm convinced you were the Medora in one of your past life."
Serena tapped her chin thoughtfully.
"Even though Medora killed him, she still called him her treasure and her only regret. Perhaps she did love him in her own twisted way, she just loved the throne more."
Rysa looked at Serena, her eyes wide and searching. "But was it worth it? To have a crown but lose the only person who truly cared for you?"
Lethia let out an amused laugh. "She traded one treasure to gain a much greater one. I'd say the outcome was quite profitable."
Vasileios was nearly doubled over with laughter, unable to control himself. Looking at Lethia with pure fascination.
"By the Saints, you are a really different from other ladies! Tell me, My Lady, if I were to be your treasure, would you at least give me a head start before you drew the dagger? Or is the betrayal part of the charm?"
Lethia simply looked at him, a smirk on her face. "That, Lord Vasileios, would depend entirely on how useful you remained."
Rysa shook her head, looking distressed. "If everyone thought like that, no one would ever dare to love anyone again!"
Vasileios, who had been leaning his shoulder against the pillar, now leaned his head back against the stone as well, locking his hands behind his neck in a relaxed, confident pose.
"Why fear it?" he asked, his voice steady and calm. "When you love someone, you hand yourself over to them. From that moment on, it is their choice whether they risk everything to protect you, or risk you to gain everything else."
Lethia's eyes widened for a fraction of a second, caught off guard by his words. Without a word, she abruptly turned and began to walk away, her pace brisk and her expression unreadable.
The other three stood there, stunned by her sudden departure. Serena was the first to break the silence with a snicker. "I suppose all this talk of unconditional love gave her a bit of nausea. Her heart simply can't handle the sweetness!"
But Lethia didn't hear her. Her mind was elsewhere, drifting toward dark, buried memories. Every time someone spoke of love as a sacrifice, it dragged her back to the image of her mother.
This place is cursed, Lethia hissed to herself, her footsteps echoing against the cobblestones.
I am never coming back to this place again.
Behind her, Serena and Rysa linked arms, laughing and chatting as they followed her. Vasileios, however, didn't stay behind. He lengthened his stride, easily catching up to Lethia and falling into step right beside her.