To enslave a season

Part 2

Breakfast was a solo act, and so was lunch. Dinner was a social event. Almost every dinner was, here. No wonder Oqane was richer- We didn't spend so much on pointless social functions. Our family is respected and feared, unlike this King, who can't be bothered to stamp out possible coups. The negligent fruit of this ruler would weaken the land for generations to come.

Picking a dress from the large closet that was sent along with me, I made my way down into one of the large lounges. Gossip was fruitful here, both hearing and spreading it. Today, I would gather and hoard information, and I would edit, redistribute and spread the versions that suit me. As I did back home, I would sow the seeds that would grow into what I needed.

I sat gracefully, and when a few other ladies came in, They sat some distance from me, but I could hear their conversation. They talked about so-and-so's dress, someone's awful choice of hairstyle, and so on. Nothing about Sir Aury, or anything I could use against my targets. I stayed inconspicuous, listening to everyone else as they chattered on.

After a servant came by and dropped off a full teapot, I poured myself a cup of something from back home. Others eyed the tea, and I continued to slowly sip it as I listened. Tonight, it seemed, there would be a ball. With a silent scoff, I drank again. The amount of silly dances was ridiculous. 

"I love your hairpin!" Someone said. A young girl, hardly a teen. She had a pair of warm hazel eyes, and I saw a few boys her age hanging around the door. She had suitors, then

"Thank you" I smiled, and spotted a dragonfly hairpin in her blond curls. It wasn't as embellished as mine, but still beautiful. "Yours is wonderful," I said, and she bounced away in excitement. As soon as she was gone, I tried to keep my face from falling. Some other ladies eyed me with jealousy, and I sang a high note, letting myself hear what they think

"I can't believe she spoke so casually with Princess Azha!" One thought. Others were along the same line. I hid another scoff, rose from the seat and left the room. I had a few snippets of information, now to sow my version.

With my skirts swaying against my legs, I took a deep breath of the lakeside air. This boat was lovely, and it glided effortlessly across the glassy surface. All I had to do to steer was whisper a direction, and it would head that way.

"South" I murmured, and it course-corrected. I was long overdue to speak with my Blood-Sister. "Stop," I said, and the boat stopped. I dropped a gleaming silver coin into the lake, along with a drop of my blood "Lord Cytherius, grant my request" I said, and as the blood dispersed, a few droplets of water rose and formed into the image of my sister. 

"Ayla," She said "It has been far too long"

"I agree, Lazerra," I said "Separation is intolerable"

"So, you're in Nightenglade," Lazerra said "Interesting. Why would you be there, of all places? Your place is beside me, at our father's table" 

"My mother has a few plans for this place," I said "And for me. Lazerra, what do you know of the dragons atop Sun Peak?" I asked

"Not much, sister" Lazerra said "They have been ruled by golden dragons for millennia. Five centuries ago, they chose a champion, not unlike yourself. The whole world felt his presence when he was made one with the blood"

"Thank you, sister" I said "Do you have something to ask of me?"

"When will you return?" She asked, and I whispered my response.

Striding down the hall, I passed statues and vases filled with flowers. A solid gold tree stood in front of where a portrait used to hang, and I did a double-check. It reeked of something like my sister, but unlike it as well. A symbol of what used to be, I guessed. It was imbued with sorrowful magic, and with a handful of whispered lyrics and a soft tune, a few golden flowers bloomed across the branches. I shook my head and kept going, and I turned the corner into my room.

Like a lazy cat, I was stretched out in front of a window and watching the gardens. It reminded me of a painting back home, with all the trees shedding pale pink blossoms.

A familiar head of white hair was sitting on a bench. Sir Aury, it seemed, was partial to the gardens. He looked like he was asleep, and the sunlight fell through the leaves and flowers onto his face. A few falling blossoms were caught in his hair, and the sun made him seem blond.

I turned my attention away from the gardens and to the book in my hands. The history of Nightenglade would serve me well in the times to come. I as scanned pages of the past, I noticed a reoccurring theme.

Sir Aury was everywhere. Born to the first king and queen, he was disowned by his family and vanished. But here he is, hundreds of years later? His birth and the choosing of a draconic champion five hundred years ago overlapped. Was Aury this mysterious champion? I would have to test this.