Classified (UNDER CONSTRUCTION)

Part 2, File 6 - Her Imperial Majesty

The following week, the palace buzzed with activity as preparations for the dragon campaign commenced. My sister meticulously coordinated the deployment of guards and the acquisition of essential provisions – thick furs, waterproof garments, enchanted firewood, and insulated shelters – ensuring the expedition was fully equipped for the harsh winter journey. While she strategized, I dedicated myself to crafting antipsychotic and fire-resistant potions, working tirelessly to ensure an ample supply. Guards were dispatched to strategically place the potions throughout the affected regions, while others focused on fortifying the palace defenses for my sister's absence.

Meanwhile, my sister and the remaining guards focused on eating and resting as much as possible, steeling themselves for the dangerous journey ahead.

Or so I thought.

By ten that evening, I needed to step away and breathe. With my bodyguard at my side, I slipped into the gardens, both of us concealed by invisibility cloaks. Habit made us cautious, even within the estate's walls.

For a time, the world was still, the sheer outdoors bathed in serene moonlight - until we reached her private garden.

From a distance, the two silhouettes were unmistakable. Even in the faint glow of the moon, I knew it was her and the gardener.

A cold weight settled in my chest. Without a word, I gestured for my bodyguard to follow as we moved closer, our steps slow and measured. The journey to the scene felt endless, dread clawing at my chest as we finally stopped behind a towering oak tree. Its thick trunk provided cover, standing beside a crystal-clear lake that shimmered with the reflection of the round moon and scattered stars.

At the edge of the lake, several thick blankets lay spread on the grass, with a large basket and bright lamp resting on them. And there they were, not far from where the basket and lamp stood - my sister and her gardener, seated together in attire far more modest than the last time I had caught them. Perhaps the chilly evening air demanded it.

She looked beautiful and sharp, as always, her long braid tucked beneath a periwinkle hat adorned with white flowers, ribbons, and lace. The hat complemented her matching dress, with its full, ornate puffed sleeves. A thick white shawl draped her shoulders. She sat with her back against his chest, a macaron dangling from her mouth. He, on the other hand, had his arms wrapped around her waist and his legs around hers. He was dressed in a worn, woolen greatcoat and heavy trousers, with an old woolen cap covering his golden hair. Despite his humble, ill-suited attire, he was as handsome as ever, undeniably easy on the eyes, his strong jawline and soft smile a disarming combination.

What in the world... they are still together?! My sister's courtship with the duke was nothing but a ruse all along?!

My hands trembled beneath the cloak, nails biting into my palms. The cold night air nipped at my exposed skin, but a suffocating heat burned in my chest, a stark contrast to the chill that settled on my clammy hands. My bodyguard stood silently at my side, a grounding presence as the faint rustle of leaves and the distant hum of nocturnal insects filled the heavy silence.

As if mocking my disbelief, the gardener flashed her an impish smile, shortly before biting the macaron from her mouth, narrowly missing her lips by an inch. She blushed scarlet.

"That is unfair!" she protested, her lips suppressing a smile as she leaned forward, hands on her hips, eyes narrowing at him. "I want my macaron back!"

The gardener feigned a huff, crossing his arms and turning away from her, yet still munching on the macaron with exaggerated care. After swallowing it, he turned back with a pout. "That's what you get for flirting with the duke."