Ruby and the Blue Flames

Chapter 15: Ashes of Rebellion: Threads of Defiance

In that very day, the queen and Princess Clarissa shared a cup of tea together. 
They have been discussing pressing reports from Loaal when all of a sudden, a knight had entered the chamber.

"My queen," the knight entered with a salute. "There is an urgent matter downstairs."

Both women were shocked and confused. However, they immediately stood and followed the knight.

The queen ran the castle halls, her breath pounding endlessly. Silently in terror of what she was about to see. But then, arriving at their destination, her eyes widened, her usual composure faltering for the first time in years. She stepped forward, but words failed her. When she spoke, her voice was a trembling whisper, edged with disbelief.

"Ashkira?"

Her gaze locked onto the uneven strands, as if the severed hair was a physical wound upon the crown itself. She reached out, fingertips trembling, before pulling her hand back. The weight of their long, flowing hair had always symbolized the royal family's enduring strength. By cutting it, Ashkira had severed more than just tradition—she had severed her ties to their legacy.

Clarissa gasped, her hand instinctively flying to her own long, silver locks. Her eyes darted between Ashkira and their mother, a deep furrow forming between her brows. Her voice quivered with disbelief.

"Do you even understand what this means, sister? Our hair... it's the symbol of our reign, of life itself!"

She took a step closer to Ashkira, her face filled with a mix of fear and anger. "How can you just... discard our legacy like this?"

However, Ashkira's eyes resembled that of a sunken moon, void of light and colour, sorrow befell upon the young girl and loneliness overwhelmed her breath forcing no voice to come out. No matter the raging echoes of her sister's voice; all ignored and unheard.

"Disgraceful," Richard roared continuously. "It is disgraceful! I am very disappointed in you, Ashkira."

"It is a matter of royal gestures, my king," Alaexandre covered his mouth and tightened his eyes shut. "How, oh how will your subjects and followers react to such... controversy?"

His words came and shot out to add more matches to the flames, it instigated the king's fury even further, his eyes fully resembling balls of flames and his voice trembled more thunderously. 

"I will not see my dynasty ended in the account of... false sentiments. What you feel for a woman is naught but a misdirection. When you marry Alaexandre, it shall be corrected."
The king's word was cold as a lone heavenly body, absent from the sun. It was horrendous.

Ashkira stood still, her breath uneven, the flames in her hands flickering faintly. Richard's words echoed in her mind, bouncing off every corner of her thoughts like prison bars closing in around her. Corrected? Her love for Eris was not something that could be "corrected." It was the one truth in her world of lies and forced obedience.

The suffocating weight of the royal chamber pressed against her chest, and for a moment, it felt as though the walls themselves were closing in. Her fingers twitched at her side, and she glanced down at the remnants of her hair scattered on the ground—each strand a testament to her rebellion, a small act of defiance in the face of an unyielding monarchy.

But it wasn't enough.

The room buzzed with Richard's fury, Alaexandre's smugness, and Clarissa's silence. Ashkira's chest rose and fell in slow, steady breaths, her mind racing with a thousand different paths she could take. I must end this now, or there will be nothing left of me.

Before anyone could speak again, she raised her head, meeting her father's burning gaze. The weight of generations of royal bloodline hung between them, but she felt something shift inside her, something that wasn't fear, but fire. The blue flames that had cut her hair returned to her fingertips, growing more vivid with each second, casting the room in a cold, fierce glow.

"I will never marry him," Ashkira said, her voice calm yet piercing through the noise of Richard's anger. "I will never become the puppet of this crown, nor will I submit to a man like him." She gazed fiercely toward Alaexandre, whose grin faltered at her words.