The Ruler's Rift

Realizing Ruin

"You don't look so good," Amber commented.

Celeste's eyes lowered to her advisor. She looked so small from the throne. The queen had dolled up her hair and wore her regalia with extra jewelry yet it apparently failed to hide that she barely slept. "Save it," Celeste sighed. She shifted in the throne, which had been renovated to appear more regal and less terrifying while maintaining its dark, intimidating hues. "I have far too much going on to listen to you insult me. Go and escort our guest in; she'll be here any minute."

Amber's eyes flitted to the door, then back to her niece. "What happened last night?" She asked, curiosity and caution clashing in her voice.

"Don't make me repeat myself," Celeste hissed.

Following more hesitation, Amber left the throne room and returned shortly, guiding a petite, unassuming Sharcanid to the queen's feet.

Tapping her claws against the armrest did not distract Celeste from her vindictive thoughts. In her hands she held the power to ruin Lucy, and on her lips rested the words to shatter that dog's image. It would be playfully simple to get back at her for the pain she'd caused. Celeste shifted - the luxurious throne suddenly felt stiff, and her velvety garments became like sandpaper. Yet, she spoke with confidence when the visitor approached. "It's my pleasure to welcome you here." She smiled. "And it's my personal honor to show off your daughter's work to you."

Lucy's mother looked around. Her narrow eyes scrutinized the tile, the flowerbeds, and the spires. Her eye color matched that of the palace - dark, iridescent, black as night with the slightest hint of violet. "Did my Lucy really design this palace?"

"Oh yes. Every floor," Celeste cooed. "And what is your name? I'm sure you know who I am." Leashing her anger proved difficult. This old, washed up hag didn't bow her head or drop to her knees. She didn't even spare a greeting. Celeste pondered the look on her face if she found out that the queen was fucking her daughter and mind-controlling her son. Celeste had so much power over Lucy and her mother in this instant; she needed only to decide whether to exploit it.

"I am Victoria Aash," answered the Sharcanid. She lacked doglike ears and paws, but her curled, fluffy tail's volume more than made up for it. "Thank you for giving me time today. Please show me around. I'd like to see more of my daughter's work."

With endless grace, Celeste stepped down to Victoria's level and ushered her along the carpet to the doors. "Wonderful to meet you," she hummed. "May I offer you something to drink? Lucille's work is best observed with a beverage." The clash of doors behind them separated the pair from Amber.

"No, thank you. You are much kinder than your mother," Victoria noted with an arched eyebrow.

"Yes, my mother was a truly wretched woman, wasn't she?" For the first time, Celeste needn't strain her feelings in front of this guest. A truly wretched woman Violet was, indeed. The dark fallout of her magic lingered still, and Celeste wondered if she'd ever cease to sense it on Mystearlia. "I apologize on her behalf for any harm she caused you."

"Not to me, we were some of the luckier ones." Victoria shook her head, a streak of gray shimmering between the dark strands of hair. "But I'd prefer not to relive those days. What drew you to my daughter?"

As the pair explored a refurbished corridor, Celeste gestured to the sconces and columns which surrounded like a council. "What could possibly turn me away - now that's a better question!" Celeste smiled as widely as possible without flashing her fangs. "Beautiful concepts, emotional color palettes, quick turnaround and a polite attitude - Lucille is a charm."

"Oh...I see." Victoria raised a skeptical eyebrow but she failed to meet the queen's gaze.

"Besides, it's so hard to find a designer who isn't into that minimalist rubbish these days," Celeste groaned. She barely hid her smirk. "A ridiculous trend. Wouldn't you agree, Ms. Aash?"