Legend has it, if you stand in front of a mirror, shuffling an enchanted deck of cards, you can open a doorway between dimensions.
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Prince Teodric of Springport remembers the promise he made his father: to *not* try to reenact the legend of dimen...
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The mood in the room was more solemn than it'd been in a long time. Otho wasn't, for once, stuffing his face with the delicacies on the spread before him. Arden kept their head tilted downward and their gloved hands clasped in their lap. Ossenna's eyes flickered with all sorts of colorful emotions, most of which I knew she wouldn't voice until we were alone.
I cleared my throat. "Ysac and Teodric left several days ago, and we've yet to discuss a plan for if they succeed."
Otho shrugged a hand through his golden mane and leaned back in his chair, an air of insolence in his demeanor. He was the youngest of us, so I often attributed his attitude to a lack of tact, not a lack of respect. "If they succeed, indeed. They're too far for me to sense, but when they left, I didn't pick up on a lot of confidence."
"And those queens," Ossenna tsked, clutching her hot mug near her chest, "they're fickle. Ysac can handle them, but Teodric? I'm sorry, but he was clueless, the poor thing. I'm not sure he's ever been near such feisty women before. Astrida likely ate him up—"
Arden grunted. "You have no idea how nearly accurate you are, Lady Ossenna."
She scoffed, not so much at the interruption, but at the fact that Arden was agreeing with her. That didn't happen often.
I switched my gaze to Arden then, watching as they shifted in their seat and lifted their chin. They sensed me looking, as they slowly turned their head, inclining it once to acknowledge that they were listening.
"Well," I said, tucking my silky hair behind my ears, "let's get to the thick of it then, shall we? Only one of us present is able to truly keep an eye on those boys." One of my eyes twitched. "Arden, what did you see? What's the current situation?"
Arden pulled their hands up to the table, resting them there as if to push up and stand; but they remained seated. "Astrida is still debating. I wasn't able to record the entire conversation, but it seems her decision depends on her sisters and whether they show up. She firmly believes she is the heir and will fight for the crown."
I pursed my lips but acquiesced. In my opinion, Astrida was far from qualified for the post of monarch. Too self-centered, too stubborn, and much too capricious to be in charge of caring for millions of inhabitants across Acewood Kingdom.
"Gwenore," Arden coughed, "is coming. She's on her way here as we speak."
Otho gasped, his bushy eyebrows pushing up his high forehead. "Is she? Interesting. Of all the princesses, I thought she'd be the hardest to convince."
I myself had a hard time registering Arden's claim, and something noxious brewed in my belly in response. "Are you sure?"
They pivoted to me, and I couldn't see their eyes, but I felt them glaring at me, irritated that I'd questioned their abilities. "Immensely so. She debated her decision for a while before having supper with the emissaries. She woke with absolute conviction that she needed to be here. I...don't know whether she'll enter the castle willingly, though. I gathered a great deal of...mistrust from her."
