Mortal Fantasy

✴｜chapter twenty-three

The sound of my footfalls along the floor is magnified by the quiet of early morning. Here, no guards mill about the hallways to cast me suspicious or perverse glares; the prince's suite is perfectly empty if but for the subtle grating of my breath upon the air, the near-silent hish of the tunic against my skin.

Stephen had said that he and King Furos would stay in Kyrie for two days and two nights; today the royal entourage should be returning to the palace, having finished with their diplomatic visit to the border kingdom. I cannot pinpoint what exactly drove me to wake at the first ray of dawn, taking care not to disturb Adlyn, and pace along the winding corridors of the Crown Prince's suite, but the mere thought of seeing Stephen is distracting enough for me to disregard his warning about wandering through the palace.

I know that I am at a sore disadvantage for having kissed him the day before, and I know that he will use it against me, but does some part of me... anticipate it?

An unreasonable blush rises against my face, and I slap a wanton hand across my cheek. Focus, Ithena. It is foolish to let Stephen have such an effect upon me, and yet my thoughts promptly fail me in each attempt to take my mind away from him. Even more foolish, considering that my intent was to seduce him, and certainly not the other way around. It seems that I have dangerously underestimated the prince's charms, and now I cannot help but wonder if the price is catching up to me...

"Ithena Avonstef?" A giggle follows an amused voice. "The famous concubine of His Highness? I never thought I'd get to see her for myself."

I spin around, my heart thundering perilously against my rib cage. A young noblewoman stands not a few meters behind me, a vibrantly painted fan held up between her gloved fingers. An elaborate feather headpiece adorns the crown of her auburn head; on any of the other women of the court, it might have looked ridiculous, but it inspires something oddly intimidating about her beauty.

She regards me with bright, unreadable violet eyes, a smile splitting her mouth. "Oh, I haven't introduced myself, have I? I'm Lady Taria, of the High Court. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Avonstef."

"Your—Your Ladyship," I stammer, lowering into a hasty bow. The corridor is otherwise deserted, and yet her presence easily fills up the large space. "I apologize, I didn't see you there..."

Lady Taria's face lights up with renewed vigor. "I know, these girls are incredibly quiet," she says, gesturing to the two maidservants behind her. Their gazes are pinned to the floor with unwavering discipline. "Makes them quite useful for moving about the palace, actually." She cocks her head, an unintelligible emotion crossing her face. "Avonstef, why don't you join me for some tea?"

I swallow against the tight knot in my throat. "Thank you, my lady, for extending such a kind invitation, but I cannot possibly burden you with the company of someone as lowly as myself."

"Oh, no matter, darling," she laughs, the fan fluttering in her grip. Her amaranthine eyes, iridescent and glittering, feel like daggers through my skin. "You're so unaware it's almost endearing. You are the prince's concubine, not some beggar girl dragged up here for the soldiers. You're free to associate with the likes of us as you please." Her smile grows sharp. "Especially if I've invited you."

A plaster of sweat dampens the back of my neck. This woman has made it clear that I do not have a choice when it comes to following her—all I can think of is how extravagantly stupid I must have been to have fallen for such a trap. Stephen had warned me about this very circumstance, and yet in my determination to see him, I had completely disparaged his advice. In the few weeks I have been at the palace, I have learned that involving myself with the nobles is bound only to result in trouble, and now I have—but at what cost?

"Of course, Your Ladyship," I say, bowing deeply. My hands tremble where they dig into my robes, but she doesn't seem to notice. Lady Taria simply grins and beckons at the maids, turning towards the opposite side of the corridor. I force myself to follow them, my legs as stiff as stone, inwardly cursing myself as I do.

Oh, Ithena, you fool... what have you gotten yourself into?

... 

A/N

Hello everyone! It's been some time, I hope you enjoyed this chapter and are staying safe.

I saw a lot of you requesting for an update, and I just wanted to address that before moving on: I really, truly appreciate that you're invested in this story, and look forward to each chapter that I put out. If not for everyone's support, I don't think I would have continued Mortal Fantasy.

However, it has been difficult these past few weeks for me to try and get time to update. The end of the school year has been busy, but now with summer on its way, I'll have much more time to write. Unfortunately I have also been dealing with a condition known as ulnar neuropathy, a compression of the nerve at the elbow that causes pain and discomfort in the hands.

Thankfully, since being diagnosed last year and going through physical therapy, it has improved greatly; however I had a flare-up this past week due to working on so many projects and assignments for the end of the school year, which is the main reason I couldn't update. I've also developed a bit of repetitive hand usage injury, so I'm trying to heal as much as possible before I get back to more writing. (I've been using dictation software, but even then it's still pretty subpar at times and I have to make a lot of edits by hand >:( lol)

That being said, I wanted to ask whether you guys would like shorter, more frequent updates (like this one, maybe once every week or week and a half) or longer, less frequent updates (every two weeks or so). Leave your comments below and I'll definitely check them out!

Remember to vote, comment, and share!

Until next time,

Icelynn