Two

The Diamond Palace stood as a marvel of elegance and grandeur, its walls crafted from shimmering white quartz that gleamed like frost in the morning sun. Adorned with precious stones that mimicked the brilliance of diamonds, the palace exuded an otherworldly beauty. Each dawn, the golden rays of sunlight kissed its surface, making it sparkle as though imbued with celestial light. To the common folk who gazed upon it, the palace was more than a structure—it was a beacon of hope, a reminder of the beloved princess who resided within.

Inside, the air buzzed with quiet energy as maids and servants bustled about, ensuring that every detail of the day would be perfect for the princess. In her private chambers, three maids—Miya, Celi, and Marian—tiptoed inside. The room was warm and inviting, adorned with soft pastel hues and delicate silk draperies that framed tall windows. They carefully opened the heavy curtains, allowing streams of sunlight to pour in, illuminating the ornate furniture and intricate designs carved into the walls. The gentle morning light fell upon the grand canopy bed where Princess Lianne lay, her peaceful expression untouched by the concerns of the waking world.

One of the maids, Miya, stepped closer, leaning down to gently nudge the princess.

"Your Highness, it's morning," she said softly.

A quiet murmur escaped Lianne's lips as her eyelids fluttered open. She blinked a few times, her violet eyes adjusting to the light, before letting out a small yawn. Stretching her arms above her head, she offered a radiant smile to her maids.

"Good morning, everyone!" she greeted cheerfully.

The maids bowed their heads in unison.

"Good morning, Your Highness," they replied in respectful tones.

Lianne slipped out of bed, her silk nightgown flowing gracefully as she moved. She crossed the room to her gilded mirror, the edges of which were inlaid with tiny gemstones that reflected the morning light like a halo around her. As she inspected her reflection, the maids worked diligently to tidy her bed, smoothing out the sheets and fluffing the pillows. Marian began brushing Lianne's golden hair, arranging it into soft waves that cascaded down her back like sunlight caught in motion.

As she sat before the mirror, Lianne's thoughts wandered. A smile played on her lips, but her eyes betrayed a hidden glimmer of mischief.

"Annette's coming-of-age ceremony is in two months…" she mused internally. "Although it would be fun to unsettle her a little, I suppose I should let her be for now—considering the… incident."

Her expression briefly darkened as she let out a soft sigh. The change did not go unnoticed by the maids. Celi, who had been folding linens nearby, turned to face the princess with a concerned expression.

"Is something troubling you, Your Highness?" she asked tentatively.

Lianne hesitated for a moment before responding, her voice tinged with sadness.

"Garner's death… it's still on my mind," she admitted. Her gaze fell to her lap, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her gown. "Celi, do you think Big Sister Annette really did something so cruel?"

The question hung in the air like a fragile glass ornament, threatening to shatter with the wrong answer. Celi's face tightened ever so slightly, the strain of withholding the truth evident in her posture. She lowered her eyes to avoid meeting the princess's gaze.

"Perhaps it's just a misunderstanding, Your Highness," she offered cautiously.

But even Celi's carefully chosen words could not hide the truth from those who knew the full story. Annette's jealousy toward her younger sister was an open secret among the palace staff. Despite her outward beauty, Annette harbored a dark envy that poisoned her every thought. Garner, the late butler who had loyally served Lianne, was said to have been a victim of that envy. Handsome and devoted, Garner had earned Lianne's favor—qualities that Annette coveted, either out of lust or a bitter desire to claim what was not hers. To everyone else, the cause of his death was painfully clear.

After breakfast, Lianne sought solace in the palace gardens, where rows of vibrant flowers bloomed in harmonious hues. The gentle hum of bees and the melody of birdsong filled the air as she knelt among the flowerbeds, her delicate hands plucking pink blossoms and pairing them with vibrant purple ones. Her nimble fingers worked with practiced ease, arranging the flowers so that the purple petals formed a perfect heart at the center. Satisfied with her creation, she tied the bouquet together with a white ribbon taken from her hair.

Holding up the bouquet with a pleased smile, she turned to Miya, who stood a few steps behind her.

"Miya, Miya! Let's take this to Annette to cheer her up!" Lianne said brightly, her tone brimming with enthusiasm.

Miya hesitated, her hands clasped tightly in front of her. She forced a small smile, hiding her unease at the thought of meeting the elder princess. To Miya, it was clear that Lianne genuinely believed in her sister's innocence, an innocence that few others could bring themselves to accept. Still, she could not deny her mistress's earnest wish.

"As you wish, Your Highness," Miya replied, bowing her head.

With the bouquet held delicately in her hands, Lianne led the way toward her sister's quarters, her steps light and filled with hope. The golden halls of the Diamond Palace seemed to shimmer as the young princess approached her sibling.

༶•┈┈⛧┈♛*＊✿❀　❀✿＊*♛┈⛧┈┈•༶

The Emerald Palace, where Princess Annette and her younger sister Syria resided, was a striking contrast to the Diamond Palace. Built of deep green quartz veined with gold, it exuded an aura of regality and ambition. Guards clad in emerald-tinged armor stood at attention outside the grand entrance, their stern expressions softening at the sight of the radiant Princess Lianne. Her mere presence seemed to brighten their moods, and they bowed deeply, allowing her and Miya entry without hesitation.

The interior of the palace was lavishly adorned with emerald accents, intricate carvings, and dazzling chandeliers that reflected light like a cascade of falling leaves. Lianne was escorted to the guest room—a spacious chamber filled with exquisite ornaments and vibrant paintings that lined the walls. The scent of freshly polished wood and faint floral incense lingered in the air. Lianne took a seat on an elegant chaise lounge, her posture relaxed yet regal, while Miya stood dutifully at her side.

Moments later, the door creaked open, and Princess Annette entered. Her light purple hair cascaded in soft waves over her shoulders, but her clenched fists and the faint tremble in her steps betrayed her fury. Despite her composed voice, her palm twitched with restrained anger as she said, "Apologies for keeping you waiting."

Lianne looked up and smiled sweetly, though her amethyst eyes glimmered with a deliberate provocation. She reclined slightly, as if mocking her sister's formal demeanor.

"No need to be so formal, Sister. I wasn't waiting long, anyway," she replied, her voice honeyed with insincerity.

Annette's brow furrowed as she approached, sitting stiffly across from Lianne.

"Why are you here, Lianne?" she asked bluntly, her tone sharp. "Is this another one of your schemes?"

Lianne feigned innocence, tilting her head and gesturing to the vase on the nearby table.

"I thought you might be feeling a little down after the incident with Garner," she said, her voice saccharine. "So, I brought you a gift."

Annette's eyes flickered toward the vase, her expression hardening. Within the glass vase was the bouquet of pink and purple flowers, tied with a white ribbon. Recognition dawned on her face, and a mix of shock, rage, and fear flashed through her violet eyes. She bolted to her feet, staring at the arrangement as though it were a cruel joke brought to life.

"How did you—!"

"Like the gift?" Lianne interrupted smoothly, standing and walking over to her sister. Her tone was light, almost playful. "Garner used to give flowers like these to the maids. He said they were a symbol of admiration. I thought you'd appreciate them too, given your... connection with him."

Annette froze, her hands trembling as Lianne continued, her words like sharp daggers.

"Oh, I guess he didn't tell you," Lianne mused, her voice dripping with mock sympathy. "He loved courting women, you see. Perhaps he told you that you were special?"

Lianne stepped closer, her smile widening as she placed a hand on her sister's cheek, caressing it mockingly.

"Poor Annette. Didn't you know already? You're nothing special," she whispered, leaning in close, her words a venomous hiss.

Annette's composure shattered. With a cry of rage, she lunged at Lianne, knocking her to the ground. The vase toppled to the floor, shattering into glittering shards. Annette grabbed one of the larger pieces and, in a blind fury, brought it down on her sister. Again and again, she struck, her anger consuming her, yet Lianne didn't scream or cry. Instead, she laughed—a chilling, maniacal sound that echoed through the room.

"You're too easy," Lianne taunted between giggles, even as blood trickled from her forehead. With a sudden burst of faux fragility, she cried out, "Miya! Miya! It hurts! My head hurts!"

The door burst open, and Miya rushed in, horrified at the scene before her. She pulled Lianne away from Annette, shielding her mistress with trembling hands.

"Your Highness, I beg you, please stop harming Princess Lianne!" Miya pleaded desperately.

Moments later, Lady Zefania entered, her expression a mask of shock and sorrow. She rushed to Lianne, pulling her into a protective embrace.

"Lianne! My precious daughter!" she exclaimed, though her heart burned with loathing for the cunning girl.

Lianne buried her face in Zefania's shoulder, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Stepmother, it hurts so much!" she sobbed, her voice trembling with feigned vulnerability.

Once Miya ran off to fetch the physician, Zefania's gentle embrace turned vicious. Grabbing a fistful of Lianne's hair, she hissed, "You devil! What are you playing at this time?"

Lianne smiled, her expression eerily calm despite the blood streaking her face. Wiping her forehead, she replied in a soft, almost dreamy voice, "I was bored, Stepmother. What better way to pass the time than to play with my dear siblings?"

Annette stood frozen, her chest heaving as she stared at her younger sister in disbelief and despair. The weight of her helplessness pressed down on her like an unbearable burden. No matter what she did, Lianne always won. Their father would always believe Lianne's words over hers.

"Don't worry, Big Sis," Lianne said brightly, turning to Annette with a sweet smile. "Your coming-of-age ceremony won't be canceled. I'll make sure of it."

As she left the room with the physician, her steps light despite her injuries, a single thought lingered in her mind:

'Come on, Annette. Just do it. End your suffering. You know what you need to do.'

But the moment never came. Instead, Lianne's smile faded as she was led away to be treated.

'How annoying,' she thought, her amusement dimmed by her sister's refusal to break completely. For now.