Orielle sat at the edge of her bed, her gown pooled around her like a cascade of soft cream. Her hands—small, delicate, were clasped tightly in her lap. Her shoulders rose and fell in shallow breaths. Though she did put on a smile, it was clear that her thoughts were still on the king's words earlier this morning.
Lyssia and Mirra moved quietly around the chamber, tidying the pieces of the morning routine. Yet neither could keep their eyes from drifting toward their lady. Concern clung to them both like a second skin.
Mirra, set down a brush and approached tentatively. Her voice broke the stillness.
"My lady… you didn't touch your food. Are you not hungry? I could fetch you something delicious from the kitchen?"
Orielle lifted her gaze. Her eyes were clouded, not with illness, but with something heavier—guilt, grief, uncertainty. She swallowed once before speaking, her voice small and aching.
"I… I keep thinking about the knights who died." Her fingers tightened in her lap. "They died because of me, didn't they? I never meant for anyone to get hurt. I never wanted—any of this."
Lyssia's frowned. Oh, my poor girl, she thought. That brute of a king—he meant to inform her, not wound her. But truly, could he not have chosen his words with greater care? Now she's carrying a burden she's completely innocent of.
She crossed the room and knelt beside the bed, taking Orielle's hand gently in her own.
"My lady," she said with quiet firmness, "no knight's death lies on your shoulders. Knights are sworn to protect. They act of their own conviction, not out of compulsion." Her voice warmed as she continued, "No knight would sacrifice himself unless he believed it right. The king just… he just speaks bluntly. I do not think he intended to blame you."
Orielle's eyes shimmered, tears gathering ready to fall. Lyssia reached up and wiped them before they could escape, offering a reassuring smile.
"And besides," she added lightly, "he is allowing you to see your father. That is no small kindness."
Mirra nodded enthusiastically from behind her, her eyes already shining with unshed tears. Always quick to feel deeply, that one. Lyssia thought rolling her eyes internally.
After Mirra wiped a quick wipe of her eyes she eagerly spoke. "Yes, my lady! at the funeral, and all those knights around… the king can keep you safe!" Mirra's face lit with a sudden dreamy look. Oh! Perhaps he's the awkward romantic type… my favourite kind! Her thoughts spiraled quickly into the realm of her treasured romance novels. The awkward ones... eeek, are always the ones that falls the hardest! How delightful would it be if the king proved to be exactly that?
Orielle's lips curved into a shy, wavering smile, though the shadow in her gaze lingered.
"You think so? I just… I don't want to be a burden to the king. Or he think I'm ungrateful."She hesitated, then whispered, almost as though revealing a secret she barely understood herself: "Though... He did laugh today, you know. It felt… strange. Is that… normal?"
Lyssia and Mirra exchanged a look—one part stunned, one part thrilled.
The king laughed?Lyssia repeated inwardly, raising her brows. He barely smiles. If she can draw laughter out of him… well! There may yet be hope for them.
"That's a good sign, my lady," Lyssia said aloud—perhaps a bit too eagerly. "Yes, very good indeed!"
Mirra let out a small squeal, unable to contain herself.
"Eeeeek! My lady! Love is already blossoming in your heart!" She clapped her hands, then paused as her imagination veered sharply. "Though it would've been nicer if he fell first… but never mind that small detail! The stage is set, and it's only a matter of time now!"
Lyssia, mortified, reached out and slapped Mirra's shoulder."Ow—!" Mirra yelped.
Lyssia pasted on a pleasant smile and placed a firm hand over a squirming Mirra's mouth, before she could say anything else.
"Please excuse her, my lady. She is young… and still learning when to speak." Her voice was honeyed; her glare at Mirra was molten steel. "She only meant, that if you continue simply being yourself, the king will come to love you as dearly as we already do."
Mirra narrowed her eyes at Lyssia, mustering all the indignation her small frame could muster, and then—unable to retaliate properly—bit her hand.
"Mirra!" Lyssia hissed.
Mirra only seized Orielle's hand, her romantic spirit restored."I know it, my lady! You just wait!"
Lyssia shot her a sharp side-eye, but before she could lecture her further, Orielle suddenly laughed—light, bright, and relieving. Lyssia's anger dissolved instantly, and even she joined in.
"Oh, that would be lovely if it were true," Orielle said warmly. "Thank you. I don't know what I'd do without you."
Then a sharp knock echoed through the chamber.
Lyssia straightened. Mirra hurried to the door.
A knight stood there, helm tucked under his arm, posture stiff with duty.
"Lady Orielle," he announced, bowing, "General Torvax bids me inform you that the wedding is set for six days hence, by decree of the priests. Preparations are underway. You will be guided as needed."
Mirra gave the man a perfectly polite bow, closed the door—
And exploded.
"My lady, the wedding! The date is set! Only six days! We have so much to prepare!"
Orielle's eyes widened, her breath catching between fear and awe."Hehe, It's… a little terrifying, it feels so real suddenly" she admitted softly, with a nervous smile.
"I still don't know why I was chosen. I'm not… anyone particularly special. King Tirian has accomplished so much, and yet he must marry a farmer's daughter he doesn't even know, all because of a prophecy?"
Her laugh was quiet, sincere, tinged with bittersweet honesty.
Lyssia and Mirra look at her worriedly.
Oriellie looked up and quickly spoke again. "Ah— it's not that I think I'm unimportant," waving her hands. "I know I matter… at least to the few who already care for me. But imagining that the gods would choose someone with so little to offer for a king—it feels impossible. Especially when…" She hesitated. "My father never raised me to be as devout as others. Why would the gods entrust such a task to someone who barely prayed to them?"
Lyssia and Mirra both opening their mouths to speak, though neither seemed certain what to say.
Ah, Mirra thought. I understand her concerns. Though… perhaps that is why they chose her? To bring her closer? Gods know, they rarely explain themselves…
Lyssia's thoughts took a different turn. She knows she matters to those who love her, which I'm grateful for… but, does she understand her value beyond that? That it's more than just being loved?
"Oh, my lady," Lyssia said gently, holding her hands firmly. "The gods have roles for each of us, even if we do not follow them with fervour. Your worth is not tied to your devotion—or your lack thereof."
She touched Orielle's cheek, her smile earnest.
"You are important because of who you are. If the gods chose you, then surely they saw the goodness in your heart long before you doubted it. And the king—well." Her eyes glimmered with fond amusement. "He just seems to be slow when it comes to matters of the heart."
Orielle blinked, then drew a breath—a steadier one."hehe, alright." she said, resolve sparking to life. "Then I should make myself useful! What must I do to prepare?"
Lyssia brightened."There's much to do, but nothing beyond your ability." She began to list each task."First, we'll meet with the seamstress. With such short notice, some gowns may need to be altered from existing designs. But"—she chuckled softly—"you'd look radiant even in a rag." Orielle flushed. "Then," Lyssia continued, "you must choose flowers for the ceremony. Traditionally lilies are used, but the queen does have the right to choose her own if you have something else in mind. After that, the priests will want to meet you, to prepare you for the rites. Then there are meals to approve—though the cooks would deal with most of those choices. Finally, you'll practice your vows. Simple words, the priests will give them to you, all you have to do is practice."
Orielle listened attentively.
"Will I need to speak before the court? I've never done that."
Mirra bounced lightly in place."Only the vows, but it's not much! And you'll have us to practice with. You'll charm them all easily!"
Mirra continued on, "And then there's just the wedding night to prepare for, and the union will be complete!"
For a heartbeat, the room held its collective excitement.
Then all three froze.
The words drifted down like falling stones.
Orielle's face ignited into a vivid pink."Oh… the wedding night," she stammered, twisting fabric nervously in her hand. "Ah—of course."
Mirra shuffled to her feet, blushing slightly as she stared at the wall, shyly.
Oh yes... The wedding night, Lyssia's stomach suddenly coiling.