Chapter 183: My hatred I

Hatred is a simple emotion that all creatures can possess. It makes one irrational and fierce, a deep-seated animosity fueled by time. Hatred breeds intolerance and violence, eroding one's very being like a virus. Yet there is always a source for hatred, whether significant or not.

[300 years ago.]

[Capital City of Verdantis.]

The hallways of the castle were vast and grand as always. Stone walls adorned with the most eccentric tapestries, paintings, and decorations. Expensive chandeliers poised high on the ceilings and lush red carpets trailing down the floor. Her elegant frame fit in perfectly with the surroundings: long, smooth raven hair, crimson eyes radiating with a small glow, lush lips painted black, delicate yet mature features, and a generous frame hugged by an extravagant black dress showcasing her hourglass figure.

Lyra strolled through the vast corridor with purpose, though a keen eye would notice the slight twitch of her eyebrow and a frown tugging at her lips. Something was nagging her, but she refused to show it.

"P-princess, please calm down!"

"Mercy, princess!"

She heaved a heavy sigh as she heard the pathetic pleas in the distance. Increasing her pace, it did not take long before she reached the source. Her feet carried her up a flight of stairs as a rather comedic sight came into view. Both knights of Verdantis, clad in sleek silver armor adorned in black with straps of blue and gold, were on their rear. The prominent emblem of the Verdantis knights, resembling a phoenix, stood out on their armor. Standard long swords were tucked into scabbards hoisted by their hips.

("The personal guards to the princess of Verdantis, tis bad comedy.") Lyra sighed, Gunther and Luther. Tasked as the sworn guardians of the princess, Gunther had a head of neatly styled black hair and chiseled features with sharp gray eyes. Luther, a much younger man, bright orange hair in slight disarray and brown eyes decorating his youthful face.

Both knights promptly ducked lower as a king-sized bed broke through the doorway they stared at. It flew through the air like a projectile, crashing and breaking through the decorative guard railings of the stairs before plummeting downwards and unceremoniously crashing to the ground. Lyra did not react upon witnessing this; she sighed once more for good measure.

"L-lady Lyra!" Gunther's expression of fear quickly turned to relief.

Luther scrambled to his feet and hastily pointed at the room that now lacked a door. "The princess has gone mad again! You're our only hope!"

The court mage resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "What is it now?" she asked, her tone and gaze dry as she regarded the two knights. This was a situation she was all too familiar with.

"Well... it's the king. He... he prepared another suitor for Princess Alyssia." Gunther informed, "To the prince of Zephyria."

"Ah, I see." Lyra immediately knew the reason for the princess's ire. She took graceful strides to the entrance to her room. "Why was I not informed?"

"We ourselves only just received word from the king," Luther answered. Lyra nodded as she stepped into a vast, spacious room. The ceiling stretched out above with a radiant chandelier, the walls painted a muted white color with a large painting adorning the center, depicting a graceful woman with long raven hair and lilac eyes, dressed in a black dress. Large wardrobes occupied the left side of the spacious room, each large enough to hold a space of its own. A small wooden dressing table adorned with miscellaneous items and a large mirror with a golden rim. Of course, the room now lacked a bed, though Lyra's red eyes focused on a familiar figure.

She stood in the center of the room, defiant. Her white night robes still clung to her petite frame despite it being evening already. Her long, wild snow-white hair framed her heart-shaped face ethereally, her pouty lips twisted into a heavy frown, and her thin white brows furrowed as her bright ruby-red eyes zeroed in on Lyra as she fully stepped into the room.

"Princess Alyssia, it has long since touched eventide, yet you're still in your robes." Lyra shook her head, as if disappointed.

"Hmph! I knew you would be here eventually, you hag!" Alyssia declared, pointing her dainty index finger at the older woman almost accusingly. "You'll not win this time!"

"Now, now, princess, being a prat shan't solve your problems," Lyra almost dryly insulted, Alyssia's eye twitched at the insult.

"You crone!"

"Brat."

"Senile hag!"

"Stupid child."

"Old bat!"

"Scoundrel."

"Spinster!"

"Sprout."

"You, uh-...." Finally, the princess seemed to run out of insults. So Lyra leisurely approached the annoyed girl, raised her dainty right hand, and brought it down in a strong chopping arc directly on Alyssia's head. "Ow! You damn hag!" Tears formed in the corner of her eyes as she rubbed her sore head. "Fine, you win... stupid hag," she pouted, folding her arms and glaring to the side.

Lyra chuckled. "Ah, so you can be cute. Good to know."

"You...." The princess blushed at the comment. "I-I am not cute! I am a woman, damn you! I am beautiful, not cute!" she rebutted.

"My, my, I did not realize. Mayhap I would've were you not merely nineteen winters old." Lyra gave a lopsided grin. "You're still so easily flustered too. Seems little Alyssia still dwells there."

The princess merely threw a weak glare the court mage's way before huffing. "Hmph!"

Meanwhile, Luther and Gunther cautiously peeked inside the room, witnessing the scene. They turned to each other, speaking in whispers. "Whoa, leave it to Lady Lyra to calm the princess," Luther noted.

"I seriously thought this was the end for me. I've a babe on the way; I can't die here, you know!" Gunther reasoned, a shiver ran through him as he recalled the fierce glare of the princess.

"Monika is with child?" Luther questioned. "I'd say my congratulations, but to this day, I question how you came to be with someone so out of your league."

Luther received a dry stare from his comrade. "Very harsh."

Lyra seemed to ignore their banter as she gently took a handful of strands from Alyssia's hair. "A tangled mess, really. It impresses me how easily you manage this. Take a seat," Lyra gestured to the stool near the dressing table. Alyssia grumbled but did not refuse as she gracefully took a seat. Lyra took a brush and began gently combing through the princess's hair.

"Stupid Lyra...." The princess mumbled low, though no real hostility was behind her words. She refused to admit how good it felt when Lyra gently brushed her hair. Despite how tangled it always got, the woman never hurt her with her graceful movements. It was soothing, to say the least, not that Alyssia would ever admit that.

"So your would-be suitor of Zephyria has you this irked already, huh?" Lyra mused as she continued brushing through her hair.

The princess huffed with a scowl. "My old fool of a father knows I detest dabbling with arranged marriage." She glared at her own reflection in the mirror.

"Come now, do not speak ill of your father. At the end of the day, your father wants the best for you," Lyra clarified.

"More like what's best for Verdantis," Alyssia corrected with a small frown tugging at her rosy lips. "I'm but another political tool for the old man. 'The oh so great Spawn of Octavia,' a prize to be won by prude would-be partners. It's infuriating."

"I agree," Lyra gave a soothing smile. "Merely abide by your father's words, meet with this prince, and if you don't fancy him, I shall stand by your side as you confront your father. You're still young; a girl like you should not be forced into marriage." Alyssia looked at the eyes of Lyra's reflection.

"Really?"

"Come now, princess, have I ever not stood by your side? You'd be pouting too often if I stood against you. As endearing as that would be, I rather prefer you with a smile," Lyra stated with a chuckle, the brush in her hands gently untangling Alyssia's hair.

The princess blushed slightly at the court mage's words. "Hmph! As if I care." She turned her head to the side, closing her eyes and refusing to meet Lyra's teasing gaze. "I rather have this stupid meeting with the stupid prince over and done with."

"Understandable; your father will no doubt want us to travel to Zephyria to show respect," Lyra deduced.

"Why do we need to travel to such a backwater and small nation?" Alyssia sighed. "Will Ser Dante at least accompany us? I'm okay with just you, but...." Her words trailed off as a tinge of red tainted her cheeks.

"Oh?" Lyra chuckled endearingly. "Worry not; I shall make sure of it. Now, let us get you dressed and ready."

--------------------

"Ah, yes, now you truly look like a princess, and yet again, you're wearing this dress," Lyra mused with a smirk as she took in Alyssia's appearance. She wore an elaborate dress with a red bodice with gold threads and patterns. A black, ornate collar and shoulder pieces stood visible. Over the bodice, there was a light color. A decorative headpiece, a large, ornate flower-like design with gold and red embellishments, was on her hair. A red ribbon finishing the design. Small red and gold necklaces were adorned on her chest area, and ornaments littered the fabric of her attire and hairpiece.

"So what? This is my favorite dress; if I have to storm through some backwater kingdom, I at least want to be comfortable," Alyssia reasoned.

"Yes, yes. Though it gets rather hot down South, so have a spell prepared. It will be a welcome respite from Verdantis's usual cold weather," Lyra remarked.

"That and these Astrothians and demons trouncing about; there are so many," Alyssia whined.

"Worry not; your dashing 'Ser Dante' has taken point in this scuffle. He is the strongest warrior in Verdantis. I'd wager we're quite safe," the court mage teased, eliciting another blush from the princess.

"H-hmph! As if I care," Alyssia stammered. "A-anyway, I suppose we need to meet with my stupid father so I can hear his stupid excuses on this stupid meeting."

"A lot of 'stupids' there," Lyra joked. "Worry not, princess. The journey will do you some good; staying in your room at every waking moment is not healthy, you know."

"I-I don't stay in my room that much!" Alyssia defended. "I-I go out sometimes."

"Uh-huh." Lyra folded her arms beneath her chest, not looking convinced in the slightest.

"Ugh, you...." Alyssia huffed with another cute pout. "Whatever, let us just go to father and be done with this."

"As you wish, princess." Lyra smiled, her hand reaching out and patting the younger girl's head. "And you look beautiful; you've grown into a fine young lady. Were your mother here with us today, then I have no doubt in my mind that she would be proud."

Alyssia's eyes widened at the unexpected praise before a blush spread through her porcelain skin. "D-don't go saying things like that so randomly!" she exclaimed, turning away to hide her embarrassment.

"What? I am merely speaking my mind. You may be a brat sometimes, but you've come a long way," Lyra's genuine smile did not help matters. Alyssia pursed her lips in thought.

"I think if you're proud of me... then that's enough." It seemed to take all her willpower to speak those words; her face was already as red as a tomato.

Lyra looked somewhat surprised at her admission, her eyes raking over her blushing face. "Then I am proud of you as well, Alyssia."