ELDRATHIS CONTINENT- EAST
THE THRONE KINGDOM
The morning light, filtered through the high arched windows of the Throne Kingdom's grand palace, painted the vast study in hues of gold and dust motes. Carved oak bookshelves, reaching to the vaulted ceilings, lined the walls, each laden with tomes of ancient lore, political treaties, and magical treatises.
In the center of the opulent room, a heavy, dark wood desk was strewn with scrolls, quills, and a half-eaten platter of sweet pastries.
At this desk sat Cedric Throne, King of the Throne Kingdom, though at this moment, he looked more like a bewildered scholar than a monarch.
His white hair, usually meticulously styled for court, was slightly dishevelled, and his striking blue eyes were wide with a theatrical panic as he leaned over a large, colourful chart.
He wore a simple, embroidered tunic – a 'care-taker dress,' as Erena affectionately called it – and clutched a quill in one hand, a blank piece of parchment in the other.
Perched on the edge of the desk, swinging her tiny legs, was his second daughter, Princess Erena. Her white hair, a mirror of her father's, cascaded past her shoulders, and her purple eyes, a vibrant contrast to his blue, were narrowed in concentration as she pointed a small, delicate finger at the chart.
"Father, you always make mistakes," Erena declared, her small voice surprisingly firm for a child of her age. "See here, this is wrong. If Mama sees this, then she will punish me."
She paused, then added in a serious tone that mimicked her mother, "Then I will not talk to you."
Cedric gasped dramatically, pressing a hand to his chest as if mortally wounded. "Nooo, Erena, my sweet daughter! My darling, precious jewel! Do not forsake your poor, beleaguered father! I will correct my mistakes. See!" He gestured wildly with his quill, nearly splattering ink on a scroll.
Erena, however, was not swayed by his dramatics. She leaned closer, her purple eyes scanning the intricate diagrams. "Here. Mana consumption value is wrong. It should be B+." She pointed at a specific section with an air of nonchalant expertise that belied her years.
Cedric's feigned distress instantly evaporated, replaced by a radiant smile of paternal pride. He ruffled her hair gently. "My daughter is truly intelligent for her age," he declared, his voice booming slightly as he made the correction on the chart with a flourish.
Erena, usually quite confident, listened to the word 'intelligent' and, for a fleeting moment, a blush touched her cheeks, a subtle shyness coloring her expression. "But," she mumbled, pushing at a loose strand of hair, "I really can't be compared to Big Sister."
Cedric sighed, a deep, mournful sound, and leaned back in his chair, gazing up at the ornate ceiling as if seeking divine intervention. "Ah, your big sister," he began, his voice laced with mock sorrow. "It would be better if she had a personality as sweet and forgiving as yours. But alas, she has the personality of your mom. And you know what that means."
He then covered his eyes with his sleeve, peeking out with one eye, and began to act out a sorrowful scene. "Every time I try to spoil her, every time I offer her the finest treats, the most wondrous toys, the most delightful stories… every time she ignores me! And sometimes, sometimes," he wailed, his voice cracking theatrically, "she even acts like I didn't even exist!" He lowered his sleeve, his blue eyes glistening with exaggerated tears.
Erena, ever the empathic soul, reached out and patted his arm with her small hand. "It's okay, Father," she said, her voice soft and comforting. "I will not ignore you."
Cedric instantly stopped his "crying," his face brightening with a blinding, kingly smile. He scooped Erena into a gentle hug, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Really? You are really my sweetheart, my precious angel, my little purple gem!"
Just as Cedric was about to launch into another dramatic declaration of love, a cool, clear voice cut through the air, sending an immediate chill down their spines. "Look at this. The play of daughter and daughter-slave. More interesting than doing nothing, I suppose."
Both Cedric and Erena froze mid-hug, their theatrical antics replaced by sudden, wide-eyed alarm. Erena, still in her father's embrace, trembled visibly. It was her big sister, Fel, standing framed in the doorway, her white hair mirroring theirs, but her blue eyes, exactly like Cedric's, held a sharp, calculating intelligence that was all her own. She wore a simple, elegant gown, perfectly pressed, and a faint, almost imperceptible smirk played on her lips.
Erena swallowed hard, her small voice barely a whisper. "Big sister Fel—"
But her words didn't even complete. Fel's gaze, cool and unwavering, seemed to cut them off, silencing Erena before she could finish.
Cedric, recovering slightly, quickly released Erena and put on his most innocent expression. "Look, Fel," he said, holding up his hands in a gesture of peace. "I am just helping Erena to complete her work. As a diligent, responsible father should."
Fel's blue eyes narrowed, fixing first on the half-eaten pastries, then on the "corrected" chart. Her words, clear and precise, seemed to echo in the vast room, sending a fresh wave of trepidation through both of them. "Perhaps I have to talk to Mother seriously."
Cedric and Erena both felt an immediate shudder, goosebumps rising on their skin. The very thought of Isabella's 'serious talk' was enough to plunge the most courageous knight into despair, let alone a dramatic king and his sweet little princess.
Before either of them could utter another word or attempt to deflect, the ornate room's double gates swung open with a soft, almost imperceptible whoosh, revealing the majestic figure of Queen Isabella Throne. She too shared the striking white hair of her family, but her eyes, deep and piercing, were the same vivid purple as Erena's, albeit with a profound wisdom and undeniable authority that Erena was years from acquiring.
Cedric and Erena, caught in their terrified tableau, instantly became a picture of guilt-ridden panic. Cedric straightened his tunic with a nervous flick, while Erena tried to subtly hide the chart behind her back.
Isabella, however, bypassed their transparent attempts at distraction. Her purple gaze went straight to Fel, a flicker of something unreadable in her eyes. "Fel, you are also here?" she asked, her voice calm but with an underlying steel that always commanded attention.
Fel simply nodded once, a crisp, concise movement. "Yes, Mother."
Isabella turned her gaze to the trio. "What are you all doing?"