Rise of Heroes

Chapter 36 - Watchful Eyes

“Is there anything else I can help you with, Princess Estelle?” the servant girl asked politely, patiently waiting for Estelle to acknowledge her presence. “I need to go back to Princess Isabelle after I…”

She was just about to leave when Estelle’s voice made her stop in her tracks.

“Actually, there is.” Estelle put down the brush and turned, locking her eyes on her. “Anitra, was it?”

She nodded, raising eyebrows impatiently as Estelle turned back toward her small table containing all of her makeup accessories from Keldar and all kinds of ointments and concoctions her mother had gifted her. She got up from her chair in front of the mirror, making sure Anitra couldn’t see the small vial she took from there. She opened the lid and squeezed it between her fingers before turning to face the other woman. Her plan was to use it on Isabelle herself, but this opportunity was simply foolish to miss. Estelle wasn’t even sure she could get close to Isabelle, considering how the older Anamirian princess ignored her. Just like everyone else.

Anitra was standing next to the table where she had left Estelle’s breakfast a few minutes ago. Her simple blue dress hung up loosely around her body, dark circles surrounding her passive brown eyes. There was expectation written all over her face, and acquiescence, complete and utter acquiescence.

Estelle took a few steps and sat on the stool next to the table, fixing her gown and reaching out to take the teapot in her hands. She poured some of the deliciously smelling liquid into two cups, then patted the space next to her, smiling invitingly. Anitra obeyed, sinking into the soft cushions and silently waiting with an uncomfortable expression on her face.

“I feel like I need to apologize,” Estelle started and Anitra frowned. She had been filling in for Estelle’s maid from time to time for the past few weeks since Gwen’s pregnancy was at the latest stages and she was soon to give birth. Estelle and Anitra rarely had any conversation besides the occasional greetings and concise, straight-to-the-point inquiries regarding Anitra’s chores, but now Estelle had uncovered a side of her that seemed worth exploring. Her assignment to tend to Princess Isabelle was a lucky coincidence and if she played her cards right, Anitra, without even realizing it, was going to give her the answers she so desperately sought.

“Apologize for what?” Anitra asked after clearing her throat. “I don’t follow.” And then she quickly added. “Your Grace.”

“You can call me Estelle,” Estelle said, forcing a sweet smile. “It’s not like I am a queen or something.” Estelle chuckled and put the pot back on the table, handing Anitra one of the cups and taking the remaining one. “I have to apologize because I haven’t been the most pleasant company for the past few days and you’ve been more than helpful. I know you’re just filling in for Gwen or somebody who is going to replace her until she is ready to go back to work, but I don’t want you to think I am ungrateful.”

“There is no such thing, Your Grace.” Anitra quickly shook her head, her strict, emotionless face smoothing. She didn’t really sound like she meant it, but Estelle didn’t expect much. She was mostly ignoring her those past few weeks. Hopefully, it wasn’t too late to gain her sympathy.

Estelle gave her another sweet smile, her eyes sparkling with growing excitement. She pushed a string of hair away from her face, content with how her long, curly hair fell around her, perfectly combed and arranged despite Anitra’s terrible skills. It had felt like Anitra was trying to brush a horse — hard and with long, abrupt movements — as she ran the comb through Estelle’s hair.

Estelle glanced at the cup in Anitra’s hands just as the servant girl raised it to her lips.

“Anyway,” Estelle sighed, placing her hand over Anitra’s and letting her smile fade into a sad expression. “You’re probably sick of hearing this, but I am really sorry for your loss.” Anitra’s whole body stiffened and she clenched her teeth defensively. Estelle froze, hoping she hadn’t made a mistake. She held onto the same expression for a little longer until she saw the other woman’s face relaxing. “I really shouldn’t have mentioned it. I’m terribly sorry.” She said quickly, but Anitra simply shook her head.

“It’s fine. I’ve made my peace with it.” Her words sounded like a complete lie even in Estelle’s ears, and for a short moment, she wondered if the other one actually believed herself.

“What I wanted to actually say is that I’m here for you if you need anything. Roder is not like the other kingdoms. The fact that you’re bringing my food or making my bed doesn’t make you any less human than me. I want you to know that I appreciate all of it,” Estelle continued, nodding reassuringly.

“Thank you,” Anitra replied quietly, a look of complete confusion fighting its way to her face. She took another sip of her tea, awkwardly avoiding Estelle’s gaze, and then feverishly placed the cup on the cable, hands slightly shaking. The princess watched her as she put some sugar into her own cup. “I’m really grateful for your kindness, Your Grace, but if you’ll excuse me, I’ll take my leave.”

“Of course.” Estelle nodded, leaning back into the pillows. “I don’t want to keep you from your duties. Just remember, if you have any problems, you can always come to me about it.” Anitra almost tripped in her skirts but nodded gratefully before disappearing through the door.

Estelle remained still until she could no longer hear her steps in the corridor, then rushed toward her vanity table in the corner. She grabbed the small, skillfully wrought with gems and silver mirror on top of it, raising it to find her own excited eyes staring back.

“Khara gal beliramel. Morei kles panakhar,” she recited, watching with bewilderment as her reflection blurred, then disappeared altogether. For a moment, she thought her spell had failed and the potion she had poured into Anitra’s tea didn’t work when the darkness shifted, slowly morphing into a corridor. The image kept moving and changing as if Estelle herself was walking through that corridor, her own head turning left and right as guards or servants passed by, giving her a quick look, a nod, a greeting.

“It worked!” Estelle laughed happily, jumping with delight at the unexpected success. She was sick of doing stupid, elementary tricks when she knew she was capable of things that people wouldn’t believe even if they saw them with their own eyes. She wanted more, she needed more.

And now she was looking through the eyes of Anitra without her even realizing what was happening. It wasn’t permanent, of course, but she could learn a great deal for the time it was going to last. It didn’t even make her feel weak like every time she was trying to perform a more complicated spell!

She could do this to anyone she wanted — servants, soldiers, her mother, her brother, the king even. And they would never know.

“No more secrets from me,” she chuckled with satisfaction, making her way back to the table with the mirror still at hand. There was still one thing she wanted to check before counting this a victory. “Please, work!” she whispered as she watched a hand knocking on a door.

“Princess Isabelle?” A female voice came from the mirror, faint but clearly distinguishable. “Your Highness, are you here?”

Estelle’s smile widened to a point where it almost hurt, but she simply couldn’t contain herself. She had found a new weapon, a weapon only she could use, and she was planning to take full advantage of it. Secrets were the most expensive currency among people of their status and she was planning to get very, very rich.

✤ ✤ ✤ ✤ ✤

Anitra knocked on the door one more time, listening for a response or any kind of noise, but when she didn’t hear any, she let herself in. There was no one in the anteroom, and it seemed just the way she left it the previous night, so she headed to the princess’ bedchambers. The door was slightly ajar, so she pushed the wings inward, stepping into the spacious room with growing wariness.

After exploring the familiar settings, her eyes fell upon the new addition to the furniture — a bronze bathtub in the middle of the room, with two empty buckets standing nearby. Isabelle Niabard seemed fast asleep inside, her red hair secured in a bun by a few pins. Her face seemed rather pale, tense, as if she was having a nightmare. The water seemed to have gone cold a long time ago, so Anitra decided it was better to wake her up. The last thing she needed was her charge to get sick.

“Your Highness?” she called quietly, careful not to startle her. No response came from the girl, her head slightly turning aside while her lips pursed. Fading traces of bruises and cuts still covered her neck and shoulders, but from the sight of them, Anitra could tell they would be gone soon.

Isabelle’s hand rose and her fingers touched the space right under her neck as if looking for something there, but when they didn’t find it, the hand dropped into the water. Anitra flinched, but the noise didn’t wake up the princess.

Anitra tried calling her name a few more times before stepping closer. The moment Anitra’s cold fingers touched her skin, Princess Isabelle’s eyes sprung open and Anitra thought they flashed in bright red. It happened so fast and the scream that erupted from the girl’s throat was so loud that Anitra instinctively stepped back, tripping and falling on the floor.

“By the gods!” Princess Isabelle exclaimed in surprise, leaning toward the edge of the bathtub and locking her eyes on her. “Are you alright?” Anitra nodded, quickly getting to her feet while the other relaxed back in the water and placed her palms over her face. “I’m so sorry! I must have fallen asleep. I thought you were a demon.” The voice came muffled behind the barrier of fingers and she took a deep breath, letting her hands fall down. Her eyes seemed to have returned to their normal blue color, less scared than mere seconds ago, but just as concerned.

“I’m fine,” Anitra said out loud as she grabbed the bathrobe from the bed. The princess suddenly shuddered as if she had just realized how cold the water had become. Turning her back on Anitra, she spread her arms to slip into the robe when something caught Anitra’s attention.

Just below her left shoulder blade, a mark was contrasting very vividly with her pale, clean skin. It looked like a burn scar with an almost impossibly symmetrical shape. It somewhat looked like a letter, maybe a rune, yet it seemed as if it was part of her skin, not something that had been inflicted upon her.

“What is that on your shoulder?” she asked before she could stop herself. Her eyes stayed on the mark as the princess looked over to see what Anitra was referring to.

“It’s a birthmark. I’ve had it for as long as I can remember. My siblings have it as well. I suppose it runs in the family.” Isabelle tied the robe around herself, rubbing her shoulders absentmindedly as she stepped toward the window and peeked through the curtains. Anitra watched her intently until a chill ran down her spine, making her shake involuntarily.

“Shall I prepare you a dress, Your Highness?” Anitra asked after clearing her throat.

“I’ve already picked one up and left it on the bed. I’d appreciate it if you could help me put it on.” She left her spot next to the window, stepping toward the bed where Anitra picked up the undergarment first and left the princess put in on herself while she loosened the ties on the back of the dress. It took her a few good minutes to tighten the strings after sliding the dress onto the girl’s slim body and when she finished, the princess took the pins out of her hair, letting it fall down her back.

She picked up the hairbrush from one of the tables, taking a seat on one of the stools next to the fireplace.

“Would you like me to do that?” Anitra asked, taking a step toward her in case she agreed. To her surprise, Isabelle gave her an energetic shake of her head.

“I don’t wish to offend you, but I’d rather do it myself.” Anitra nodded awkwardly, returning to fixing the bed. “You haven’t been a servant long, have you?” Isabelle asked in a few minutes, making Anitra turn over her shoulder to glance at her.

“What makes you say that?” She frowned, but quickly smoothed her face and added, “Your Highness.”

Isabelle chuckled, letting the brush go over and over her silky red curls. It was almost impossible how just by combing her hair she suddenly looked so different, so royal, so beautiful.

“Well, you don’t seem like a servant to me. You don’t act like one as well.”

Anitra stopped, straightening up next to the perfectly smooth covers of the bed, still looking at her.

“And what do I look like, Your Grace?” she asked quietly, holding the other girl’s gaze. Isabelle’s hands fell in her lap as she tilted her head.

“You look like someone who was never used to doing housework. You seem more comfortable cutting my meal than combing my hair.” Her voice was careful while her eyes observed her thoughtfully. “You look like someone who is lost, looking for something in the wrong place.”

The last words took Anitra by surprise and she stiffened, unsure of what to do or say. She then swallowed awkwardly, leaning back down and continuing to fix the pillows.

Isabelle said nothing more, just turned toward the table, taking a few pieces of paper and bringing them closer to her eyes. Silence filled the room, making Anitra sweat with anticipation for what usually happened next. She hated how people looked at her with pity, with condemnation even — she expected nothing different from the young woman she was assigned to serve. Isabelle seemed entirely occupied with whatever she was writing, shooting her servant a glance only from time to time, as if to see what she was doing.

“Aren’t you going to ask me the same question as everybody else?” Anitra finally snapped, surprising herself. The tension had taken the best of her and now she regretted it deeply. The princess had raised her bright blue eyes from her letter, not a trace of amusement on her face.

“No,” Isabelle replied. “No point in reopening a wound that has not yet healed.”

Anitra didn’t expect that, but she felt somehow grateful. People constantly reminding her of Bel, of the fact that he was lost to her forever, only made things worse. Good intentions or not, she didn’t want to think about it, talk about it, or feel any of it.

A knock on the door made them both turn and before the princess could do or say anything, Anitra was already turning the handle. She found herself face to face with Jaden, both of them raising eyebrows in surprise at the sight of the other.

“Jaden?” she spoke first, realizing all too well that she should have used his title considering they weren’t alone. “What are you doing here?”

A playful smile appeared on his lips at the sight of her confusion, and he cleared his throat before speaking.

“I came to escort Isabelle to her sister’s chambers. Her Guardian has agreed to go through Reinhart’s demonology lessons, so I volunteered to be her escort while he is occupied.” Anitra’s eyebrows went even higher, but the only thing she did was turn aside just as Isabelle got up from her seat.

“Aren’t you supposed to be escorting your future wife instead?” Anitra hissed at him before the Anamirian girl joined them at the threshold.

“Your Highness,” Isabelle said so coldly, Anitra had to look at her to make sure that stern voice came from the beautiful, delicate girl that needed help putting on a dress. “Thank you for your thoughtfulness, but I know the way already. Should I require an escort, I’ll ask one of the guards stationed outside of my room.”

Anitra watched him hesitate for a second, an unfamiliar sight to her own eyes, but she doubted Isabelle noticed. It didn’t make it any less obvious that Jaden was searching for a flower in the wrong garden.

“Is that so?” Jaden smiled as if unaffected by the cold attitude. “Very well.” He moved to leave, but then stopped. “Just so you know, I’ve just visited your sister’s chambers, but apparently she had left them. I looked for her at her ladies’ chambers as well, but they were not there either. I’ve sent guards searching for them, and they will report to me once they find them. I hope they haven’t gone down to the city without a proper escort. That could be dangerous.”

His last words seemed to have a magical effect on the princess because her jaw tightened, resignation crossing her face.

“I will accompany you then. I’d like to have a word with my sister about her wandering when we find her,” Isabelle said in a heavily controlled tone. “Shall we?”

Jaden nodded, offering his hand to the princess, who glanced at Anitra with her lips pursed. Anitra simply stared while Jaden flashed her a smile before disappearing through the door.

Anitra kept staring at them long after they were gone, her heart beating fast as she saw the look on Jaden’s face just when Isabelle took his hand. She had seen that look before, on another person, at another time. She had seen the same feeling sparkling in a man’s eyes right before Bel told her he loved her.

“Oh, Jaden,” she whispered. “What are you doing?”