Chapter XIII

Sweet dews of a pleasant morning made its way through her nose, followed by the soft chirping of birds that only did brought comfort and peace. The skies were painted a bright blue, almost clear and devoid of feathery fluff clouds that would litter the canvass in daily basis. A clear day it was indeed. A perfect start for noble men and women to prepare themselves for the feast that would be held tonight, when the grandfather clock strikes o’six

Though, as quick as the thought entered her mind, her pink lips then pursed themselves to one another, forming yet another thin line— both hues of silver jewels are clouded with slight agigation. Albeit, the reasoning behind that certain expression wasn’t because of their current bizarre problem, but due to the folded faded parchment, securely tied with a rose-like lace that the imperial knight, Dominique Ridéux have passed to her yesterday.

It was an invitation— no. Rather, it was an order from the sparkling bright Isabelle Ellysia, the sole heiress to the Ellysian throne. The aforementioned lass have eventually written a summons for Celeste’s Imperial Magician. Having read the parchment inked with neat thin cursives that screams with overall elegance and beauty, however, the contents were much (to the white-haired lass’ utter dissatisfaction) demanding. It was as if the princess herself was eagerly writing in request of Clementine’s presence, and would’ve apparently gone into a tantrum alike that of a three-years-old child, had the latter declined.

When her gaze travelled down to each letter, word, phrase, and sentence, Clementine had to fight the urge to set out furious cackling orange flames that’d burn the thin paper into crisps and dust. Royals, and their foulest ways. The mage would’ve declined such request, not caring if Her Highness would wail and throw-hands at her for refusing (although, the magician highly doubt that Isabelle would, concerning that such mannerisms weren’t ‘lady-like’). If it wasn’t for rest-deprived Delphinium’s prodding, then the white-haired lass would’ve been spending the rest of the day with Alejandro, doing spells and protective enchantments.

However, she did quite find it useful. Being in a room with Ellysia’s princess would eventually give her and her fellow strong magicians some upper-hand regarding the stressful and draining situation. Now that they’ve been concerning and keeping a very much close eye to the aforementioned nation’s royal magician and the royal family themselves.

As far as history books, and archves that were dated centuries long ago— it was enlisted that there are at least, a few ancient houses who were reprimanded for their use of evil sorcery. One of them, was surprisingly yet predictably, the nation— Ellysia, itself. The sworn followers of the Dark King, Juvelynthesia, as generation to generations passed by in fleeting time. Only did their involvement in evil sorcery did vanished completely a few years back, perhaps ten? Or even twenty years prior? Although, no one guarantees that it was ‘absolutely’ exterminated at a certain point. Not even the current Kings and Queens of other kingdoms.

“Lady Clementine! I am ever so glad to see that you accepted my invitation!”, Isabelle— the princess she had quite been despising at for some unknown reason. The golden-eyed royal stood there, right in front of the magician, dressed in the finest of silk that flowed down till her knees, and on her feet— were fluffy cotton slippers that no ordinary civilian could even provide. Her attire, even though simply woven and made, probably costed a half or even more of Clementine’s fortune. She was beaming at her, gracing the mage with an ear-to-ear grin that seemed to reach the heavens. Her absolute delight and excitement, clearly plastered and seen on her visage.

“I came as early as stated in the letter of your summons, Your Highness”, Clementine replied, tone-flat and straight faced, a complete opposite of the blinding jewel that stood before her. Unlike the princess, she wore a much more simpler and cheaper clothes, composing of a long sleeved frilly-white collared blouse with a navy-blue ribbon, a simple navy-blue skirt that went above her knees, a pair of brown leather boots that reached below her knee joints— and to top her attire, situated on her shoulder was her signature obsidian cloak, embroidered with her affiliation to Celeste and identity as one of the Four Greatest Magicians in current time. Whilst her long silky hair, was tied into a ponytail, thanks to the silver ribbon that her mother crafted for her, eversince she was a tiny infant.

Due to her extreme poverty situation as a child, Clementine have apparently learned to save and buy things that were good, decent, yet not expensive enough that it could hurt her wallet. It was rather hard as a child, having to go and witness her friends in the most extravagant dresses and clothes to every tea party that Alejandro would often invite her on— and to her young innocent mind, wearing those clothes felt like being a princess in story books that her mother would read to her till the dream goddess decided for her to sleep. She was often envious of such luxurious things, that she’d gawk and pout whenever they would sport their fortune by means of wearing attires. Though, as time quickly grew by, she eventually became more acquainted to the fact that there would be a huge gap between her and nobles alike.

And now that she is rich in par with nobles, the mage still found it hard to waste a single bronze coin even for a piece of ribbon to tie her hair.

“Yes! Yes, I very much appreciated your punctuality”, The princess exclaimed, her voice reaching octaves higher that have probably waken the whole castle up. Her long blonde hair bounced lightly, orbs glowing and sparkling with glee, it wasn’t hard for Clementine to figure out that the royal was refraining herself from pulling the magician in the room and blabber up about who-knows-what. The imperial magician had to cringe at that, not wanting the idea of being trapped in a room with someone like Isabelle.

Wow. She did hate her at some extent, for no reason.

Also. . .

Should she thank her for that compliment?

Nah, a word of thanks isn’t even worth it.

“Say, princess. Why did you order of my presence?”, she ought not to dally, and she was mentally itching to leave the place as fast as insanely possible. Clementine loved to be straight and forward, not wanting to waste her time (even if she does tend to waste some of her precious minutes off to daydream land).

“Oh! About that. . .”, Isabelle grew sheepish as she trailed off, her fingers lacing and intertwining themselves together. Her golden-hues kept darting anywhere avoiding a pair of silver ones, as if it was plagued with diseases. Her nerves were tingling, sweat trickling down her forehead and neck. The princess adored the magician in front of her, and Aethan knows how much praise and appreciation did the blonde lass had for her. Clementine was and is still and will continually be a remarkable magician in her eyes, she was a role-model to the young heiress. Beautiful, smart, kind, powerful, wise, and all possible adjectives out there could never describe how wondrous the mage is.

“I wanted to have a chat with you. But never got the courage to actually approach”,

Never got the courage to approach her for a pep talk?

A snort almost crawled its way out of her lips, but replaced it with a cough instead. “Pardon”, Clementine mumbled, only loud enough for Princess Isabelle to hear. It was likely a lie to the mage. She couldn’t refrain herself from recalling the oh-so-many times that the princess could’ve had the chance to actually call her and keep a conversation, although considering the fact that the blonde maiden would immediately fawn, bounce all around Aethan first, acknowledging the magician barely, before she’d set off elsewhere, not liking the awkward atmosphere of being a third wheel.

“I’m here obviously. Go on, talk”,

Ah, the bluntness of her voice had caused the silent ringing to risen from its short slumber. The halls that were seemingly filled with Isabelle’s enthusiastic harmony have faded away, replaced by a cricketing hymn made by the crickets. Gold optics stared back at a pair of silver ones, lips that possessed a natural color of pink finding themselves opening and closing without any letter or word to pronounce. She was surprised and was getting really nervous by each second that passed.

Seeing this made Clementine mentally sigh, also quite guilty for giving the royal a rather hard time of communication, thus making her sigh again. Deeply in thought, a part of her mind— the angel and the devil, argued with one another. Blasting a debate whether to ease and loosen up the princess by means of comforting her and assurance, or either just plain disappearing in front of her for not being able to mutter a word or two. It was an intense battle, yet the good side was eventually overpowering the deepest darkest side of her head.

After what seems to be years of standing there in silence, with a bobbing princess resembling that of a fish. The white haired lass found herself opening her mouth, unconsciously blurting out some words that made the princess gasp in shock, staring at her with big widen sparkling orbs that glimmered as the sun sent warm rays towards their direction from the enormous windows.

“Bobbing your mouth like that makes me think of a gold fish, Delphinium had before”,

‘Amongst all the things that I could say. . .’