ACT XII: Princess Lavinia

I stirred my tea, watching as the deep amber liquid swirled in delicate ripples. Across from me, Princess Lavinia sat with effortless poise, draped in a flowing dress of imperial blue. Her presence filled the garden pavilion like the morning sun—warm, vibrant, yet somehow untouchable.

"Is the tea to your liking, Roya?" she asked, her voice smooth and teasing.

I blinked, realizing I had been staring into my cup for too long. "Yes, Your Highness," I replied, keeping my tone polite. "It's lovely."

She laughed. It was a rich, unrestrained sound, as if she found amusement in everything. "Good! It would be rather worrying if the famous tea-maker of Aldmoor did not enjoy her own craft."

The princess was nothing like I had imagined. Charismatic. Enigmatic. Intense. When I first arrived, I had braced myself for formality, maybe even arrogance. But instead, Lavinia treated me like an old friend, chatting freely, weaving jokes into every conversation as though we had known each other for years.

The meal had been elaborate—delicate pastries filled with honey and citrus, tiny cakes adorned with sugared treats—but my mind was elsewhere. I had spent the better part of the afternoon with the princess, riding horses, sailing across a swan-filled lake, laughing in moments where I felt I shouldn't. It all felt… strange. Unreal.

The princess was a person of fun and adventure. I had to admit this fact after my entire afternoon spent with her.

But I couldn't stop the questions that kept gnawing at my mind.

Why was I here? Why had she invited me?

These questions had sat at the edge of my mind since I stepped into the palace, and now, as the sun dipped lower, casting golden light across the garden, I could no longer hold it in.

I let out a puffy breath and wiped my clammy palms on the beautiful dress I was wearing. "Your Highness…" I hesitated, searching for the right words. "Why did you invite me here?"

For a moment, silence stretched between us. Then, Lavinia grinned. "Finally, you ask. I was beginning to think you'd never gather the courage."

I swallowed, feeling my hands tighten around my skirt.

She leaned forward, resting her chin against her gloved hand. "I like you, Roya," she said simply. "You're sharp, you intrigue me… and I wanted to know you better."

I frowned. That answer felt too simple. "But, Your Highness, we've only met once before. How could I intrigue you so much?"

She tilted her head, her red hair slipping over her shoulder. "A good ruler must recognize potential when she sees it. And I see something in you, Roya Imani."

A chill passed over me. "Potential?"

Her smile widened. "Tell me, Roya, what is your dream?"

I blinked, caught off guard. My dream? It was something I rarely voiced aloud, something that felt too delicate to be spoken in a place like this. But Lavinia was watching me, waiting, and something in her gaze told me that hesitation was not an option.

Taking a slow breath, I answered truthfully. "I want to unravel the secrets of science."

The air between us shifted. Lavinia stilled, her expression unreadable. Then, she smiled—not the teasing smile she had worn before, but something softer. Knowing.

"Ambitious," she murmured. "Unexpected from you… but it's admirable."

I studied her carefully. "Your Highness, what is it that you need from me?"

For the first time since our meeting, Lavinia laughed softly, almost delighted. "I love how quick you are. You don't make unnecessary flattery nor false modesty. I can work with that."

She leaned closer, her fingers grazing my cheek in a feather-light touch. "I need allies, Roya. I need people I can trust—people who are not tied to the corrupt officials in the Parliament, people who will stand beside me when the time comes."

My breath hitched. Politics.

I wanted nothing to do with it.

She must have sensed my unease, because she pulled away with a chuckle. "Relax. I'm not asking you to throw yourself into court intrigue. I would never use you as a pawn." Her gaze locked onto mine. "I'm offering you something greater—a place by my side as a confidant, an opportunity to shape the future alongside me."

I felt the weight of her words settle deep in my chest. An opportunity. A chance to learn. But at what cost?

The tension between us lingered, unspoken questions swirling in my mind. Lavinia, sensing the shift, gestured to the chessboard between us. "Shall we play?"

I hesitated before nodding.

The game began. At first, I played cautiously, moving my pieces with careful thought. But Lavinia was relentless. Her movements were bold, confident, calculated, like a ruler commanding an army.

1:0. 2:0. 3:0.

She dismantled my defenses with practiced ease.

"You think too much, Roya," she teased after another swift checkmate, twirling the black knight between her slender fingers. "You see possibilities but hesitate to act. Chess is not about endless contemplation—it is about striking when the moment is right."

I exhaled slowly, adjusting my approach. This time, I played differently—instead of defending, I misled. I let her believe she had the upper hand, then countered when she least expected.

Her brows lifted in approval. She watched me with her violet hues, amusement dancing in them.

3:1. 4:1. 4:2.

When the final match ended, Lavinia leaned back, studying the board. "You adapt quickly," she mused, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. "I like that."

"But the victory is yours" I objected.

"This is your first time playing chess, no?" She threw her head back in laughter. "You were an interesting player despite being your first time, especially when your opponent is me"

I gave a small smile. She praises me too well. I wasn't even confident in my skill in any board games until now.

I watched as she idly ran a hand through her hair, a thoughtful expression settling over her features. "I meant what I said before," she murmured. "You have the ability to make your dreams come true. I can help you."

Her gaze met mine, unwavering. "Think about it, Roya."

By the time the sun had set and I was seated in the automobile, heading toward the train station, her words weighed heavy on my mind.

I wanted to believe her. I wanted to trust that this was an opportunity—one that could change my future.

But I wasn't the only one with dreams.

Arwin. My family. My quiet life in Aldmoor. Could I truly leave it all behind?

I closed my eyes, exhaling a tired sigh. I needed time to think.

_______________________________________________________

Princess Lavinia stood at the grand balcony of the palace, watching as the vehicle carrying Roya disappeared beyond the iron-wrought gates. The girl had been cautious yet well-mannered, her words measured but not devoid of warmth. A quiet resilience lay beneath her poised exterior. Lavinia admired that. The world was a cruel place, especially for those without power, and yet Roya carried herself with dignity.

As the princess lingered in thought, a soft voice called her attention.

"Your Highness," Lady Eleanor, her lady-in-waiting, spoke with a practiced curtsy. "Your schedule for tomorrow has been prepared. Shall I relay it to you?"

Lavinia turned, her expression shifting from thoughtful to composed in an instant. "Later," she said, her voice carrying the authority of someone accustomed to command. Eleanor nodded in understanding, recognizing that something else had taken precedence.

A court attendant arrived, bowing low. "Your Highness, the Empress requests your presence."

Lavinia's face remained impassive, but her fingers curled slightly against the railing. A summons at this hour? She inclined her head. "I will attend her shortly. Have my preparations made."

"At once, Your Highness."

Eleanor led the way back into Lavinia's chambers, where her attendants awaited her. The room was a picture of Royalty—silk-draped windows, mahogany furnishings, and golden candelabras that cast a warm glow against the deep violet walls. The scent of lavender and sandalwood lingered in the air, calming yet regal.

Two maids moved forward to remove her outer coat, their touch gentle and efficient. Another unfastened the silver brooch at her throat, its emblem bearing the sigil of the imperial family. The attendants worked in quiet synchrony, their hands precise as they adjusted her attire for the formal visit.

Her deep sapphire gown, adorned with gold embroidery, was exchanged for something more stately—a high-collared dress of midnight blue with intricate lace cuffs. A sheer black shawl draped over her shoulders, adding an air of solemnity. As another maid adjusted the jeweled pins in her red curls, Eleanor held up a mirror.

"Perfect," Lavinia murmured, her gaze flickering over her reflection. Regal, controlled, untouchable. Just as she should be.

With a nod, she dismissed them and strode from the chamber, her heeled boots clicking softly against the marble floors.

The corridors of the imperial palace were vast and eerily quiet at night. Flickering candlelight illuminated the golden moldings along the walls, casting long shadows. As Lavinia walked, memories whispered through the silence—the echoes of her childhood, laughter filling these halls before the weight of duty had settled onto her shoulders.

She had once run through these corridors hand-in-hand with her father, the late Emperor. His deep voice had been a steady presence in her life, guiding her with both firmness and warmth. But death had stolen him away, and in his place had come the Empress Regent—his half-sister, Agnetta Ilanoras, a woman Lavinia had never been close to.

The Empress had taken the throne, not out of ambition, but out of duty. And yet, in Lavinia's eyes, she had allowed the Parliament too much freedom, turning a blind eye to the rot festering beneath the empire's grandeur. The assassins sent against them were proof enough of that.

She reached the grand doors of the Empress's chambers, and the guards stepped aside. The doors were pushed open, revealing a vast sitting room bathed in warm candlelight.

The Empress stood by the window, her silvered hair reflecting the dim glow. Though she had aged gracefully, there was a quiet frailty about her—an elegance that masked the burdens she bore.

"Lavinia, my dear," she greeted with a smile, extending a hand.

Lavinia stepped forward, taking it briefly before they both sat.

"You summoned me, Your Majesty?"

"I did." The Empress poured them both tea, the delicate porcelain cups clinking softly. "A situation has arisen in one of the states in the south, Calonia. The people grow restless."

Calonia. A prosperous small state in the south. A rich mineral was discovered under her grandfather's rule and greedy nobles had tried to utilize the resources. Her father had given the authority to make the state belong to the Royal Family. The rich diamond and special stones were mined and used for the Empire instead. But the passing of the Emperor had given the nobles opportunity to resume in their greed causing the people of Calonia to protest.

Lavinia took a sip before setting her cup down. "Then we should act swiftly. A decisive hand is needed before their grievances fester into rebellion."

The Empress exhaled, her expression one of quiet patience. "I intend to consult the Parliament before making a decision."

Lavinia's jaw tightened. "You are the Empress. Your word is law. They should not be allowed to run unchecked."

The older woman smiled, a look of understanding in her eyes. "When you take the throne, Lavinia, you will understand the balance of power. Ruling with force breeds resentment. The people must feel heard."

Lavinia did not argue further, but she did not agree. Power was not something to be shared with those who sought to manipulate it.

Sensing the tension, the Empress changed the subject. "Tell me, how was your evening with the young girl?"

Lavinia hesitated, caught off guard by the sudden shift. "She is intelligent and composed," she admitted. "A quick thinker."

The Empress's gaze held something unreadable. "You have always had an eye for potential."

This meant a subtle implication. Her Aunt is aware of her dealings but she wasn't interfering. Lavinia noted it but did not respond.

Music began playing from a nearby chamber—a soft piano melody. The Empress closed her eyes briefly, as if letting the music soothe her. "Stay a while, Lavinia. We rarely have time like this anymore." She placed a cool hand on Lavinia's own, holding her in place to prevent her from leaving.

The princess remained seated, listening to the melody.

Later that night, Lavinia returned to her chambers. Her attendants were already waiting.

A warm bath had been drawn, the water infused with rose petals and scented oils. The steam curled through the air as her maids carefully undressed her, their movements practiced. She stepped into the water, the heat easing the tension in her muscles.

Eleanor stood nearby, brushing out the princess's long red hair once she emerged from her bath. A nightgown of soft silk was slipped over her frame, the fabric cool against her skin.

Finally, she dismissed them all, climbing into her vast bed. The silk sheets were smooth, but sleep did not come easily.

Her thoughts lingered on the day's events, on Roya's quiet strength, on the Empress's words.

What was it that she felt for the girl? Admiration? A newfound confidant? Or something deeper, something unfamiliar even to her?

She exhaled slowly, closing her eyes. There was much to consider, but the night offered no answers. Only silence.