Delicate Flower

Chapter Twenty One ♡

       

Chapter T w e n t y  O n e

       The walls of Princess Alexa's chambers were adorned with rich purple drapery and embroidered gold trim, a vain attempt to soften the coldness that lived in her heart. The wind outside howled against the castle's towers, but inside the air felt stifling, thick with unspoken fury.

She sat behind her carved ivory desk, legs crossed beneath a shimmering lavender gown that shimmered like spilled wine under the candlelight. Her polished fingers thrummed against the marble surface, each tap a countdown to the storm she was ready to unleash.

Lucia stood by the window, face veiled in innocent grace, but there was nothing soft behind those stark green eyes. She had learned well the art of masks—an art she had perfected ever since she was a child, trained to spy on whoever threatened her homeland, the land trapped behind the seas.

Without looking up, Alexa spoke, her voice a dagger wrapped in silk.
"How's your friendly little endeavor going, Lucia?"

Lucia turned from the window, smoothing her apron as she stepped forward, her lips curled in a smile too poised to be genuine.

"Juliette trusts me completely now. I've been watching for weeks. Every day, she grows more naive, more open. She shares her thoughts freely. Sometimes she even asks my opinion."

She tilted her head slightly. "Sweet girl. Like a lamb born into a den of wolves."

Alexa let out a breath through her nose, unimpressed.

"You've had a month." Her eyes narrowed, sharp as a blade.

"And yet she still dreams of him. She still hopes for him. A man she barely knows. That ridiculous little maid is in love with the King of Volkei. My King."

Lucia's expression faltered for the briefest second before she composed herself again.

"She's confused. That's all. There's fear, yes... but it wavers. He visits her often. Late at night. She thinks I don't hear the guards whispering, but I do. He's increased hidden protection around her chambers. Extra men in the shadows. I've even been searched twice this week."

She lowered her voice, bitter.
"It's harder to move without being seen."

Alexa stood now, her silk gown rippling around her like a serpent shedding skin. "I'm sick of that peasant. I couldn't believe it when I saw them at the festival hand in hand, ugh!" She walked slowly to Lucia, stopping just close enough to look her straight in the eye.

"And the hatred?" she pressed.
"The one thing we needed most of all—how does she feel about the king?"

Lucia hesitated.

It was a long silence.

"She's scared," she admitted, "but not fully convinced. One day she calls him dangerous. The next, she says there's good in him. She says he's... broken, not cruel."

Alexa's face twisted.
"She still wants to believe in him."

Lucia gave a slow, regretful nod.

Alexa's temper, always restrained by a thin golden thread, snapped like a whip. She slammed her hand down on the desk.

"A month, Lucia!" she barked, her eyes wild with venom.

"A month and he still hasn't signed the treaty. He's still willing to burn Noisèmer to the ground rather than kneel to peace. Do you understand what's at stake? Do you know how many men have died at the border while that useless maid sighs and giggles about a man she doesn't even understand?"