chapter - 35 The Silent Strom

**The silent Strom**

In the serene garden of the royal palace, Anaya sat beneath a sprawling oak, the gentle rustle of leaves mingling with the distant murmur of palace gossip. Emma, her faithful maid and confidant, gracefully poured tea into a delicate porcelain cup, the fragrance of jasmine wafting through the air. A platter of dainty snacks lay on the table, untouched.

Suddenly, the tranquility was pierced by the hushed voices of two maids, their conversation drifting through the open garden.

"Did you hear about His Majesty and Lady Veronica?" one whispered excitedly. "I saw it myself! His Majesty asked for her hand in marriage. It was so romantic. Veronica stumbled, and he caught her in his arms, declaring his love."

Anaya's green eyes, sharp and perceptive, flickered with interest. She sipped her tea thoughtfully, a slight furrow forming between her brows. Could her cold and aloof brother truly be capable of such a heartfelt gesture? It was hard to imagine. Yet, a part of her felt a sense of relief. Despite their strained relationship, Anaya always wished for Marcus's happiness. She had witnessed the weight of the emperor's crown bear down on him from a young age, and beneath the distance between them, a sisterly bond endured.

As the maids' chatter faded into the background, Emma, sensing her mistress's contemplation, spoke gently, "Your Highness, the talk of His Grace and Lady Veronica's impending marriage is everywhere in the palace. Everyone is quite excited."

Anaya nodded, her expression inscrutable. "It is not merely a marriage," she replied softly, her voice carrying the weight of centuries-old traditions. "The empire is about to receive its empress."

Emma smiled warmly. "Lady Veronica must be very happy. She is to be with the man she loves."

Anaya remained silent, her keen intuition tingling. She sensed layers of complexity beneath the surface of Veronica's feelings. There was no doubt that Veronica harbored affection for Marcus, but something more lay hidden, a deeper undercurrent that Anaya could not yet fully grasp.

Anaya sat in quiet contemplation, her thoughts swirling like the leaves in the gentle breeze, when a familiar voice broke through her reverie.

"What occupies your mind so deeply, Sister?" Marcus's voice was steady, yet laced with a rare softness.

Startled, Anaya looked up, realizing she had lost track of time. It was the hour when Marcus would customarily join her for tea, a tradition they had maintained for the past three years, despite the distance between them. She had assumed he might forgo their meeting due to the recent marriage discussions, but here he stood.

Emma, ever dutiful, greeted Marcus with a curtsy and began to serve him tea, the same blend they always shared. Anaya observed her brother closely; his usual composure seemed tinged with hesitation.

"Out with it, Marcus," she said, her voice cutting through the silence. "You have something to say."

Caught off guard, Marcus paused before exhaling slowly. "You must have heard the talk of my marriage to Veronica," he began, his gaze steady.

Anaya met his eyes and nodded. "Indeed, I have heard."

"What is your opinion on this matter?" Marcus asked, his tone unusually earnest.

Anaya, surprised by his query, hesitated. "Why should my thoughts matter?" she replied.

"They matter to me," Marcus responded immediately, his voice firm. A heavy silence settled over them, the air thick with unspoken words.

Anaya broke the stillness. "It does not matter what I think," she said softly. "What matters is what you think of Lady Veronica."

Marcus listened intently, his expression serious.

"She loves you," Anaya continued, "and she hopes for your love in return. You cannot ignore this any longer. I see how you care for her."

Marcus's eyes softened, a hint of relief crossing his face. "An emperor's marriage is not necessarily founded on personal feelings," he argued. "It is a matter of the empire's benefit."

Anaya's eyes flashed with intensity. "It need not be so," she retorted. "Do not blame your position for your own hesitations. You are simply afraid to confront your true feelings, as you always have been."

Marcus was struck silent, her words cutting deep. Before he could respond, one of his aides entered the garden, bowing respectfully. "Your Grace, it is time for the council meeting."

Anaya rose gracefully, lifting her dress slightly and bowing her head in royal etiquette. "Your Grace," she said softly, before turning and walking towards her palace.

Marcus watched her go, his mind a tumult of thoughts and emotions, the tranquil garden suddenly feeling very empty.

As Marcus departed for his council meeting, the garden returned to its previous tranquility. Yet, in the shadows on the far side, two figures remained—Veronica and her personal maid, Rose. The whispers of Anaya and Marcus's conversation lingered in the air, each word carrying weight and misunderstanding.

"How can she speak so to His Grace?" Rose hissed indignantly. "Lady Anaya should not presume to advise the Emperor as if she were above him."

Veronica turned to Rose, a smirk playing on her lips. "Be careful with your words, Rose," she admonished softly. "Anaya is the only princess of this empire."

Despite her outward defense of Anaya, Veronica felt a stir of resentment. This feeling was not entirely new; it had been festering for years, seeded by Anaya's rising reputation and Marcus's visible concern for his sister. Today's conversation merely fanned the embers of envy into a flame.

Three years prior, Veronica had meticulously prepared a special dessert for Marcus, eager to surprise him. Yet, when she arrived, he was engrossed in a lengthy discussion with Chancellor Verro. She was asked to wait, and as the minutes turned to hours, her anticipation faded to disappointment. Returning to her chambers, she hoped Marcus might visit the next day to console her. She prepared tea and snacks, waiting patiently, but the day passed without his presence.

Rose entered with the news that Marcus had gone to Anaya's palace. Veronica's heart sank. Without a word, she threw the carefully prepared tea and snacks away, her eyes burning with a mixture of anger and sadness.

For three long years, she had watched from the periphery as Marcus regularly visited Anaya. Their interactions were limited to formal dinners and occasions where she stood by his side as his partner, but never closer. The proposal of marriage from Marcus had filled her with a profound joy—finally, she believed, she would be closer to him, even closer than Anaya.

Now, hidden among the foliage, she reflected on the conversation she had overheard. Anaya's words seemed to echo with an authority that Veronica found unsettling. She could not help but feel a pang of jealousy.

"Rose," she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper, "do not speak ill of the princess, even if your loyalty lies with me. But you are right in one sense—there are boundaries that even Anaya should respect."

Rose nodded, sensing the subtle shift in Veronica's tone. "Of course, my lady. I only meant to express my concern."

Veronica looked towards the direction Anaya had gone, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Anaya has her place, just as I have mine. But I will not allow her to overshadow what is rightfully mine."

The garden, once serene, now held an air of silent tension. Veronica's feelings, once dormant, now began to shape her actions and thoughts, a quiet storm brewing within her.