𝐗𝐈𝐗.

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Chapter XIX.
A Show of Mercy

A Show of Mercy

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"Not gold. The blue and cream curtains." 

Irina was having a terrible day. It wasn't just because of the ice sculptor they hired backing out. It wasn't just because the casks of wine they ordered from Novyi Zem got intercepted by bandits. It wasn't even because the workers kept putting gold plates everywhere. 

It was the headache she had developed the night before. She had tossed and turned, her mind whirring faster than she could breathe. About Aleksander, about the lion. It was all too much. 

By the time she had decided to return to sleep, the sun had risen and the ball had to be organized once again. Her helpers were more vindictive than helpful, wanting things to have a certain way. The same way that her mother used to do. 

However, Irina had been doing this for some time now and she wouldn't give in quite so easily. She would make sure that her way would be followed and not some weird, outdated way. The ball will not just be decorated in gold and have heron served. 

Saints, some things couldn't stay the same forever. Or at least, that's what she told some of her helpers. 

"Ri! Ri!" A giddy voice exclaimed, echoing in the whole ballroom. A moment later, a small body crashed into Irina's legs. 

"Hello Igor," Irina greeted, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "And what are you doing here?"

Igor looked around in wonder, before answering. "Father wants to see you, Ri."

"Oh, now?" She asked, confused. He had assigned her these duties and he suddenly calls her to speak to her. About what, she didn't know. "Did he tell you why he wished to speak to me?"

"No," Her brother answered, his attention captured by a plate of sweets. 

Smirking, she looked around before plucking a plum-flavored taffy and handing it to him. She placed a finger to her lips. "Don't tell anyone." 

"Thank you, Ri!" He shouted, subtlety now gone as he ran from the room, giggling loudly with a piece of candy in hand. 

Irina turned to her helpers, leveling them with a serious look. "Carry on with decorating the curtains and the table set-up. Don't add any more gold. We're celebrating the patron saint of lost causes, not the patron saint of vanity." 

Without another word, Irina left the ballroom, heading to her father's study. When she finally arrived, she was asked to wait outside. She turned to the clock at the end of the hallway, trying to measure how much time she will lose and how many more things she needed to handle. 

The doors opened and out came Oleg with a victorious grin on his face. 

"What are you so happy for?" Irina asked, crossing her arms. 

"You'll see," Oleg drawled out, before leaning in to whisper. "I hope you like my gift, sister."

"Irina, come in." King Andrei's voice called out from the study. 

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