Elyonari's sandals brushed the velvet-lined cobblestones of the palace path. She led the procession of Dynasty Mintheris. Her long royal robes shimmered faintly. She had to admit that royal robes of Richinaria are extremely comfy.
Behind her, her twin brother Veylonar Mintheris, walked with the fluid, regal poise of a true Monarch. He was the splitting image of Elyonari but in male form. Beside him, with her posture so self-consciously regal it bordered on parody, was Celadille Mintheris, his queen, and the reason Elyonari's calm façade was a lie today.
As they passed the courtyards and lush gardens toward the reception lawn, Elyonari whispered, half in jest, half in warning.
"You still haven't grown out of falling for pretty faces, Vey."
Veylonar chuckled. "And you still haven't grown out of being territorial. I admit it, he's ridiculously handsome."
Elyonari didn't respond at first. Her eyes wandered toward the palace, catching a glimpse of Vastarael amidst the arriving guests. He really looked like a monarch. And the others caught his wink, just a expected. Her twin didn't need her to say it.
"You're glad I took the throne, aren't you?"
"I am. And I'm relieved I never had to wear that crown. The elves don't need me to be their ruler. They need someone soft enough to believe in faith and cruel enough to uphold it. That's not me."
"But you were supposed to be Monarchess, Ely," Veylonar said. "Mintherenia wanted—"
"I know what Mintherenia wanted. But Mintherenia also gave me something else. Love. Freedom. Also, I wanted a place where I could choose. And I chose Richinaria."
Behind them, Celadille finally interjected.
"Forgive me, but you chose a non-elf, abandoned your rightful station and now you walk beside us like you still have a say in Dynasty matters. Don't take this the wrong way, but if you had fulfilled your role properly, my husband wouldn't have had to appoint me."
Elyonari stopped. The entire Mintherian procession staggered slightly as the elves behind her faltered in their steps. She turned slowly, her eyes half-lidded.
"Celadille, as long as I'm breathing, you don't get to lecture me on dynasty obligations. I wasn't just a Monarchess in waiting. I still hold more power than you. I'm the living conduit between Mintherenia and the Elven people. I'm still the High Priestess of the World Tree."
Celadille's throat bobbed nervously. "I—I didn't mean—"
Elyonari's voice didn't rise, but her Divinity did. Trees across the gardens rustled. Flowers bloomed abruptly, then withered.
"You speak like you've earned your place. You haven't. You were chosen while I was still locked in an Epoch Cycle, one I didn't ask for."
Veylonar looked away. He had no defense.
"When I emerged, the seat beside my brother was already filled. No council was held. No rite of binding was made. The Dynasty was reshaped without me."
"I—"
"Save it. I don't care if you're kind to him. I don't care if he chose you. What I do care about is the way you talk to me as though I didn't build this Dynasty with my bare hands before you even had your first communion with Mintherenia."
Veylonar cleared his throat and finally said something.
"Elly, don't do this here. The meeting hasn't even started."
"Don't worry. I'll be diplomatic," Elyonari replied coldly. "But don't confuse civility for forgiveness."
She turned sharply and kept walking. Celadille kept her eyes lowered now, understanding that she wasn't just walking behind a former Monarchess. She was walking in the shadow of someone whose authority, though hidden, could still shake nations. And beneath that grace and poise, Elyonari hated her not out of jealousy or even out of pettiness. Celadille stole a throne meant to be shared Elyonari never forgot a theft.
She had chosen to stand beside Vastarael and chosen love over the Dynasty. But that didn't mean she let her legacy be rewritten.
Not by anyone and especially not her.
Elyonari suddenly stopped. It was subtle but enough to make the guards trailing behind pause, an instinct honed by lifetimes of obeying her rhythm, not Veylonar's. She turned, her voice like wind brushing across ice.
"Veylonar, control your woman."
Celadille flinched but the way Elyonari's gaze slid over her made her feel helpless.
"She forgets herself," Elyonari continued, still facing ahead. "I can tolerate ignorance from the outer courts. I can tolerate disrespect from foreigners. But if she ever dare to address me in that tone before, the council won't correct her. They'll execute her. She won't even have time to scream."
"Elyonari—"
"I am not part of your power structure," she cut him off. "I am not bound by the Dynastic codes that preserve your flimsy hold on the throne. I answer only to Mintherenia. And you forget, I am the High Priestess of the World Tree. I am the breath that feeds the root and the voice that echoes in its branches. Mintheris serves the Tree and I speak for it."
Veylonar's jaw clenched. He said nothing.
Elyonari stepped forward now, her gaze locked on Celadille.
"And you should fall on your knees and thank the soil that I am in a forgiving mood today. I had a wonderful morning. The sun was warm. The winds were calm. I even shared a moment of flirtation with someone who made me smile. But of course, you had to open your mouth and poison the air."
Celadille glanced at Veylonar, searching for support. He gave her none.
"Apologize," he said quietly, avoiding his sister's eyes.
"I—apologize, High Priestess," Celadille managed, barely swallowing the resentment behind her tongue.
Elyonari sighed and turned away again, brushing the folds of her robe back into place.
"I should return to Mintheris soon. The rot is showing. Perhaps I've stayed away too long, thinking you could manage. Clearly, I was wrong. Do you remember, Celadille, why your marriage to my brother was allowed in the first place?"
The silence weighed like lead.
"I'll remind you. He begged on his knees, in front of me not to separate you. I was generous but if you continue to prod at the very bark of the Tree, if I come to see that you are unfit for the role you cling to, I will kill you."
Celadille's breath hitched.
"And Veylonar will say nothing because you will know it is justice."
Veylonar took a step forward with his fists clenched.
"That's not fair—"
"No. What's unfair is that you were allowed to marry after Mother left. If she were here, Celadille would've never seen the altar. She would have been dragged in her garden and buried in sap to rot like the rest of the undesirables."
Silence fell again. Veylonar didn't deny it. It was the truth. Their mother was ruthless. But Elyonari. was efficient. And honestly, she was far more kinder than their mother ever was.
She moved past them, her entourage following like shadows clinging to her light.
"The only thing saving you, Celadille is the fact that I love my brother. But even love has limits. Pray yours isn't tested again."
She didn't wait for a reply. She didn't need one. They had come to Richinaria for diplomacy and unity among the great dynasties in the face of something larger. She had said as much at the start of the morning. This was not the time for politics.
But even a place like this couldn't cover up the stink of weak leadership and unruly mouths. Elyonari knew how to read a room. And right now, Celadille was playing the wrong game.
If she kept doing so, Elyonari wouldn't just ruin her. She'd erase her.
"Celadille, don't hate me for this. It's your fault a commoner elf fell for my brother. If anything, it's both your faults. I intend to preserve the dignity of the Mintheris bloodline, even if I have to kill my brother for it. He's not spared from this either."
This made Celadille's eyes widen. She thought that Elyonari wouldn't do anything to her brother but she also felt the same way towards him too...
Why was she so cold?