Pressure

Lysara paced restlessly in her chambers, her silver hair catching the glow of the candlelight as she moved back and forth. The room, though grand, felt too small to contain the turmoil raging within her. Her fists clenched; her icy-blue eyes flickered with unease—an emotion she was unaccustomed to. She had faced death countless times, taken lives since she was thirteen, had shouldered burdens no child should ever bear, and yet, nothing had ever made her anxious. Until now.

One person had managed to disrupt the careful walls she had built—Aurelia.

The image of the princess' pale, terrified face was burned into her mind. The way she had stared at Lysara after the battle, as though she were a monster, an inhuman force of destruction. The blood had painted the scene, her blade had sung its deadly song, but it wasn't the carnage that haunted her—it was Aurelia's reaction.

Would she hate her now? Would she even want to see her? The thought unsettled her more than it should have. She despised the feeling of being at the mercy of someone else's emotions, of caring too much about what someone thought of her. Yet, here she was.

She let out a heavy sigh and forced herself to calm. She would go to Aurelia, face whatever awaited her. Even if it meant hearing words of rejection or fear, she had to know where they stood. Decision made, she reached for the door, only to find herself face-to-face with a royal messenger.

"The King requests your presence for lunch," the man stated, bowing slightly before leaving without further explanation.

Lysara exhaled sharply. She considered refusing but knew better than to anger the King without cause. Clenching her fists, she composed herself and made her way toward the grand court.

The grand dining hall was a vision of power, its long table adorned with the finest silverware and delicacies from across the realm. The presence of a second guest did not go unnoticed. Evelyn. Lysara narrowed her eyes slightly but said nothing. Their gazes met briefly before Evelyn leaned in, whispering, "You look exhausted."

Lysara merely shrugged and walked forward.

Seated at the head of the table, the King observed them with an unreadable expression. The air was thick with authority as they both bowed. Evelyn's was deep and respectful, while Lysara, stubborn as ever, barely lowered her head.

The King motioned for them to sit, and they obeyed. The meal began in silence, the tension palpable. Lysara had no patience for pleasantries. "Why have you summoned us?" she asked, her tone devoid of any formalities.

Evelyn shot her a warning glare, but the King merely regarded her with mild amusement before speaking.

"Evelyn, how is your mission progressing?" he asked, ignoring Lysara's impatience.

Evelyn straightened. "It is going well, Father. Negotiations are stable, and discussions continue." She kept her tone formal, respectful.

"And your thoughts on Caelum?" the King asked.

Lysara watched as Evelyn carefully chose her words. "He is well-mannered, reserved. He carries himself as expected of nobility."

The King nodded but said nothing further before turning his gaze toward Lysara. "And what of the Icevire siblings?"

Lysara remained silent for a moment, contemplating her words. "Laurien is reliable. More trustworthy than most nobles I have encountered," she admitted, her voice even.

Evelyn glanced at her in mild surprise—praise was rare from Lysara's lips.

The King raised a brow, intrigued. "High praise, coming from you. Do you believe he is a better match for Evelyn than Caelum?"

Lysara hesitated only briefly before giving Evelyn a knowing look. "He is better suited for our kingdom. He is favored by the people of Icevire and holds genuine care for my sister."

The King studied her, his expression unreadable. Lysara did not fear him, but she knew better than to be reckless with her words. Her father was a man who thrived on power, on control. He measured every decision with calculation, always considering the grander game at play.

The conversation continued, drifting into political talk that exhausted both sisters. They exchanged silent glances, neither enjoying the strategic discussions their father seemed to revel in. When the meal finally ended, they rose, bowing once more before taking their leave.

Lysara was the first to step out, her mind already drifting back to Aurelia.