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TO&FQ: Book 1 - Chapter 49 (RAW)
🕑 Added 2025-01-09 05:48:32 +0000 UTCChapter 49 - Showdown
Let parents bequeath to their children not riches, but the spirit of reverence.
- Plato.
Never before in her life had Seraphina felt such dread. She stood before her mother’s boudoir door, shoulders hunched as if trying to make herself small. The moment of weakness was brief. Straightening her back with a determined set to her jaw, she knocked sharply on the ornate door.
“Mother, I was told you wished to see me,” she announced with forced composure.
“Come in,” came Anaselena’s flat, measured voice.
Fighting down a surge of reluctance, Seraphina opened the door and stepped inside. Her mother sat at a mirrored vanity, brushing out her long golden hair. She wore a light purple gown—simple in its cut yet undeniably of fine make. The silence stretched between them while Seraphina crossed the room to stand behind her mother. As a precaution—and a show of respect—she dipped into a small curtsy.
“Normally, one would think you’d greet your parents without delay as a simple mark of respect,” Anaselena remarked smoothly, still brushing her hair. “I trust your journey was pleasant?”
“As pleasant as could be, Mother,” Seraphina replied, meeting her mother’s gaze in the mirror.
“Are you hiding something from me, Sera?” her mother asked. “Is that why you took so long to come to me? You have always been so easy to read when you’ve done something wrong—though you’d never admit it.”
“I am hiding nothing!” Seraphina snapped, louder and fiercer than intended. Even she was taken aback by her own vehemence.
Anaselena paused, setting the ornate brush down with a decisive click. Her eyes narrowed as she regarded her daughter’s reflection.
“You will not take that tone with me. You will tell me everything—now.” There was no mistaking the command in her voice.
Seraphina’s anger flared. “Can’t you see it yourself, Mother? Isn’t that what your Sight is for?” she shot back. The words spilled out unbidden, fueled by a well of emotion that felt strangely… not completely her own. She did not understand why she was being so combative.
Before she could draw another breath, Anaselena was on her with startling speed. In one swift movement, she had Seraphina in a chokehold and lifted her clear off the floor.
“Such disrespect, my daughter,” Anaselena hissed, her tone icy. “I see I have been negligent in your discipline.”
Seraphina could scarcely believe her mother’s raw Strength. She kicked and clawed in desperation, but Anaselena stood firm, weathering blows that might have felled a troll. Suddenly, from the folds of Seraphina’s dress, a small creature launched itself at Anaselena with a hiss—Cornelia, the serpent Seraphina had been hiding. Its fangs dripped with venom as it struck through the air, only to be caught by Anaselena’s free hand around its slender neck.
“A new pet, Seraphina? What did I tell you about keeping creatures like this?” her mother said with disapproval. “I should—”
She broke off, noticing Seraphina’s frantic, pleading expression. With a frustrated sigh, she flung the serpent onto the bed. Cornelia landed in a stunned heap, rattled but still breathing.
“You forget,” Anaselena scoffed bitterly, “that everything you have is because of me. Your blessed life… your privileged position… your looks… Even that Strength you’ve been so proud of recently.”
Seraphina, still gasping for air, stared at her mother in shock.
“You truly believed all these years that your Strength came from your father?” Anaselena let out a humorless laugh. “You owe everything to me. Everything.”
The fight drained from Seraphina. There was no denying she was hopelessly outmatched. She forced herself to suppress her defiance and adopt an air of contrition. Slowly, Anaselena lowered her daughter, releasing the chokehold. Then, cupping Seraphina’s cheeks in her hands, she squeezed until her lips puckered slightly.
“Good… It is fortunate that I love you so,” Anaselena said wistfully, her gaze drifting across her daughter’s features. “And that you’ve grown into such a lovely young woman. You are my only daughter. Do you understand? That is why I do all of this. All of this is for you.”
Seraphina nodded, her mind reeling. A sinking realization dawned on her—that her mother might not be entirely sane. Perhaps it was inevitable; Anaselena did not live fully in the present.
“Now then,” Anaselena continued softly, though her eyes were like shards of glacial ice. “Be a good girl and tell me why you behaved so rudely toward King Elidion.”
Seraphina knew that despite her mother’s terrifying power, she herself was also that woman’s greatest vulnerability. Perhaps a new tactic was needed. So she threw herself into Anaselena’s arms, nestling against her mother’s generous bosom. Somehow, inexplicably, she found a measure of comfort there.
“The King… he threatened… threatened to keep me prisoner,” she whispered, tears pricking her eyes as she gazed up at her mother.
Anaselena’s expression hardened. A cold fury flickered behind her gaze. “Tell me everything, daughter,” she commanded in a voice as sharp as any blade. “Leave nothing out.”
*****
Seraphina recounted, to the best of her memory, the heated exchange between herself and King Elidion. Though she strove to make herself look blameless, she dared not lie outright to her mother; she knew Anaselena would sense any fabrication. Seraphina was playing a dangerous game. Her mother listened with a coolly attentive gaze, nodding occasionally. Every so often, she asked Seraphina to repeat a specific detail, as though testing her.
When Seraphina at last finished, Anaselena rose to her full height, eyes glinting with anger. “I will not tolerate this any longer. If Elidion is eager for conflict, then conflict he shall have.”
Seraphina tensed in her mother’s embrace. “Are you certain, Mother? It may not be the right time for us… and there is my wedding to Vellens—”
“You think I would let Elidion’s son touch you after all that has occurred?” Anaselena snapped, her voice resonating with fury. She looked thoughtfully at Seraphina with a quizzical, almost bemused expression. “Tell me, daughter, do you harbor any feelings for Vellens?”
“No!” Seraphina denied at once, almost too forcefully. “It was to be a marriage of convenience, nothing more.” She clung to her mother for comfort, while Anaselena idly combed her fingers through her daughter’s silken locks.
Her mother paused to appraise Seraphina’s short hair. “Why on earth would you cut your beautiful hair, you foolish thing…” she murmured, a thoughtful glimmer in her eyes. “And, do not lie to yourself, my sweet child. Love is rarely so simple. But at your age, I doubt you truly know what love is. It is so easy to fall in love when you are young.”
Seraphina was a grown woman, at least in mind and spirit, but she forced herself to swallow the retort that was forming on her lips. “As you say, Mother,” she answered quietly, striving to keep her voice steady and respectful.
Anaselena’s features softened somewhat. “Yes… perhaps war would be disastrous for us right now. So many things would be lost.” She exhaled sharply, almost in annoyance at her own restraint. “I may have judged you too harshly in this. It seems things are not as simple as they appear. Looking too far forward into the future has blinded me a touch in the present,” she admitted ruefully, giving her Seraphina a wan smile.
“Then what shall we do?” Seraphina asked, her voice trembling with uncertainty.
Anaselena’s eyes glinted with fierce resolve. “Sometimes, the best strategy is to do nothing at all,” she replied coolly. “At least, for the moment. We have entered a delicate waiting game, riding out the waves of fate. The King has allied himself against us—no doubt influenced by the Church. They believe that a handful of priests of the River God, delirious from the Dust, can cloud my vision.” She let out a sharp, mirthless laugh. “Impudent fools. In time, we will show them just how misplaced their arrogance is.”
Without warning, she pulled Seraphina into a fierce embrace, the sudden warmth startling her daughter. “We will need time to maneuver. Your engagement—if not the actual marriage—remains useful as leverage. It reminds everyone just how desirable you are… as if there was ever any doubt,” she mused, her tone turning playful. “Perhaps my daughter would like to be an Empress, hmm?”
Seraphina fought to keep her expression calm, even as she marveled at how swiftly her mother’s mood could change—capricious as an autumn sky. “Mother, that is quite scandalous,” she managed at last. “A match with the Empire, of all things?”
“Think on it, Sera,” Anaselena urged, her voice low and persuasive. “A union with the Empire could be a turning point, a historic event that might bring peace to our lands.”
“No, Mother. On this, I beg your indulgence,” Seraphina replied, drawing a steadying breath. “If I am to marry, I will do so for love—just as you did.”
“You insolent…” Anaselena began, anger sparking in her eyes before abruptly dying away. “You are too clever for your own good,” she sighed. “Yet perhaps it is time I let you choose your own path… at least for a little while.”
Her gaze drifted into the middle distance, as though searching beyond the limits of the present. At last, Anaselena nodded once, as if a final piece had slotted into place.
“I have seen a path for us,” she declared. “You will attend the Academy, Seraphina, just as we discussed. We will inform Elidion that our daughter cannot be wed until she has completed her studies—until she is ready to be the future mother of this nation. That will give us three good years to prepare. And perhaps,” she added with a faint, knowing smile, “during that time, you will discover both yourself… and someone else.”
For a moment, Seraphina’s heart sank. Despite all her efforts to become an independent woman—albeit at a scandalously early age—she was now fated to return to that accursed place she had once detested. Just like a piece on a game board, she was being marched back to school.
She had to summon every ounce of willpower to keep from tearing at her newly shorn hair in frustrated rage. Damn this world! she wanted to scream. She had been toying with half-formed schemes to skip out on the Academy—perhaps sending Eloise in her stead—while she set about building a new business empire. But now, all such hopes were thoroughly dashed.
Being stuck in the Academy would ruin many of her carefully laid plans. It would limit her ability to pursue the Trials she had recently set her sights on, not to mention forcing her to devote her full attention to her studies—her pride would allow for nothing less than excelling at everything. And three years... three whole years… felt like an eternity.
Was this all part of her mother’s plan?
Nevertheless, Seraphina forced a dutiful smile up at Anaselena, her mind racing as she recalculated strategy. Life, in the end, was a game of resourcefulness and time management. This “Academy problem” was merely a new variable thrown into her path.
She resolved to make the most of it. After all, the Academy would be filled with important scions of noble houses, and possibly foreign dignitaries as well—just as Rashana’s parents had once met there. Opportunity was everywhere, if one had the eyes to see it.
“I will follow your suggestions in all things, Mother,” Seraphina replied, affecting as much sweetness as she could muster.
“Indeed, my dear, you will,” Anaselena answered in an equally saccharine tone. “Or I will resort to certain… measures. You are not yet too old for the strap.”
Seraphina stiffened involuntarily at the mention of corporal punishment. “Of course, Mother. I’m sure that won’t be necessary.”
In response, Anaselena tapped Seraphina lightly on the nose. “Since you have developed a habit of dawdling,” she said calmly, “I will send you to the Academy early. You’ll have a head start on your studies before the new term begins in earnest. I expect only the best from you. Always remember you represent our House.”
Anaselena’s final words came with a glacial smile. “You will graduate first in your class—or you need not bother coming back at all.”
*****
That infuriating woman! Why must she make me suffer so? And, she’s not my damn mother, Seraphina seethed inwardly.
Her rage bubbling over, she threw herself onto her plush, canopied bed. Pressing her face into a soft pillow, she released a muffled scream of frustration before pummeling the mattress with both fists. Each impact made the wooden frame creak ominously, as though protesting her fury.
“Milady, are you well? Did your talk with the Duchess go as planned?” came Miriam’s tremulous voice from the door. Concern lined her gentle features as she carefully entered the room.
Seraphina whirled around, eyes blazing. Finally, she found a target for her anger. “What do you think, Milly, you dolt? They’re sending me to the Academy… early!” she spat, voice shaking with indignation.
“But… wasn’t it always the plan that you’d go to the Academy?” Miriam ventured carefully. “You even said it would be a wonderful—”
“Yes, but not two months ahead of schedule!” Seraphina cut her off with a scathing glare. “Do you know how busy I am with the candy business and the Lehman’s Bank? Do you, Milly?”
Miriam dipped her head, cowed by the intensity in Seraphina’s eyes. “As your proxy, I do, Milady,” she murmured. “I’ve tried my best to stay informed and manage your interests—”
“Where did you learn to talk like that?” Seraphina demanded, narrowing her gaze.
“I suppose… from spending time with Sajan,” Miriam replied, fiddling nervously with the hem of her apron. “It just rubs off on you, I guess…”
“Then speak plainly, Milly.” Seraphina took a calming breath, trying and failing to quell her irritation. “And what about that inn I got for you? How is it faring? What was it called again?”
“The Crossed Crows, Milady,” Miriam answered promptly. “I’ve leased it to a local businessman—third son of a local brewer. As you instructed, half the rent is being funneled into a—”
“Yes, yes,” Seraphina interrupted with an irritable wave of her hand. “I’m glad things are under control. At least one of my plans is going smoothly…”
Satisfied for the moment, she sank onto the bed and called out, “Eloise! Eloise!” Her voice echoed sharply through the confines of the keep.
A minute later, a petite girl with doll-like features burst into the chamber, her dark hair slightly singed and tousled—evidence of yet another experimental mishap. “Yes, Lady Seraphina?” Eloise asked, trying to smooth down her frazzled locks.
Without warning, Seraphina flung her arms around Eloise, catching her completely off guard. For an instant, Eloise froze—like someone petting a wild tiger, unsure if it would bite—then slowly wrapped her slender arms around Seraphina in return.
Miriam watched the scene with a flicker of envy darting across her face. Still, she held her peace.
Seraphina clung to Eloise as if she were the only anchor in a storm-tossed sea. “Why doesn’t anything ever go to plan?” she wailed, her frustration threatening to spill over once more.
Neither Eloise nor Miriam dared answer. Instead, they let Seraphina’s complaints hang in the air, enveloping them all in an uneasy hush—as outside, the setting sun cast long, anxious shadows across the room.
