Always the shadow, the reject but never Athanasia de Alger Obelia
"Non sum filia, soror aut principissa cuiquam."
In the tender years of her youth, a mere child of nine sought naught but the gentle caress of warmth, yet found herself adrift in the i...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
"Your Highnesses, may I present His Grace, Duke Dion of Agriche," the noble duke announced with a bow, his resplendent attire a testament to his esteemed station, as he paid homage to the five-year-old princes.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Grace. I am Prince Emrys de Alger Obelia," the elder twin, Emrys, declared with dignified composure as he extended his courtesy to the duke.
As the younger twin, Earnest, stood haughtily, his demeanor exuding disinterest, he regarded the duke indifferently. It was only under the piercing gaze of his elder brother that he begrudgingly offered a greeting. "I am Prince Earnest de Alger Obelia," he murmured with a forced politeness, "Your Grace, it is a pleasure."
"I believe you understand the purpose of my visit, do you not?" The duke's smile, though strained, attempted to convey warmth. Silence enveloped the room until Emrys finally spoke up. "Indeed, Your Grace, we are aware," he responded with measured diplomacy.
Duke Dion of Agriche held the distinction of being the second most influential figure in the empire, standing only beneath the emperor in authority. While the emperor managed internal affairs, the duke took to the battlefield, safeguarding the empire from external threats with unwavering resolve.
No one has been able to beat him on the battlefield.
Hence, the emperor entrusted Duke Dion with the crucial task of instructing the twin princes—the empire's future leaders—in the art of swordsmanship and all its intricacies. This responsibility not only brought the duke to the palace on this occasion but also ensured his continued presence in the future, a testament to his vital role in shaping the empire's destiny.
"Before we begin," the duke's tone shifted from congeniality to a somber gravity, "Remember this; the battlefield is no realm for forging friendships." His words carried a weight of solemnity, underscoring the grim reality of warfare. "It is drenched in blood—you are there to defend the empire, to safeguard someone dear to you." Pausing for emphasis, the duke directed his gaze toward the princes. "Your Highnesses, I must inquire; who holds that precious place in your hearts?"
In the face of the princes' silence, the duke pressed on. "I heard that Lady Diana recently gave birth to a princess—your little sister, is she not precious?" Emrys maintained a composed facade, while Earnest's glare spoke volumes. However, before the younger prince could voice his retort, Emrys intervened. "That girl is not our sister," he asserted firmly, his words cutting through the tension, "Even if she were to perish, we would not mourn."
The duke, though somewhat surprised by the princes' response, chose not to delve deeper into the matter, deeming it a discussion for another time. "I understand, Your Highnesses," he replied, his tone measured. "Shall we begin?"
