DISCLAIMER: The author's imagination and passion are the only sources of inspiration for this novel, which is a work of dedication. Parallels between these pages and the past or present may be apparent to some readers, but they are completely coincidental. You are free to interpret this art anyway you see fit, and it is meant for your enjoyment.
The purpose of the Mydril mansion was to serve as a reminder that the strength of shadows was equal to that of light. The Wolf's den was built of grey stone, dark cedar, and an echoing silence that felt like a caught breath, in contrast to the golden marble and roaring hearths of the Hylde estate.
With her hands neatly folded in her lap, Reinn sat in the private solarium in a high-backed velvet chair. Giyenna Edryyion-Mydril sat across from her. Giyenna, the current Emperor's younger sister, had a terrifying grace. She ruled instead of merely sitting.
Giyenna replied, "You haven't touched your tea, Lady Reinn," in a voice as polished as glass. "I went to great lengths to secure this blend. It is grown in the high mountains of the North—bitter at first, but with a clarity that lingers."
"I was just admiring the porcelain, Duchess," Reinn said with a calm, courteous grin. "It's a beautiful pattern. Very... sharp."
Giyenna leaned forward, her eyes scanning Reinn's face with the same intense blue as Dyierrean's. "Let us dispense with the pleasantries of the court. My son tells me that you have become a different person overnight. He says the 'Golden Lioness' has traded her claws for a book on geography and her obsession for... indifference."
Reinn sipped the tea slowly. She didn't show it, even though it was bitter and frigid enough to make her modern palate cringe. "Indifference is a form of peace, Duchess. I found that my previous hobbies were—how shall I put this?—bad for my health."
"And your health is suddenly so fragile?" Giyenna asked, her grin falling short of her eyes. "Or is it that you've realized that a silent woman is a more dangerous puzzle than a screaming one? My brother, the Emperor, is quite curious about your 'recovery.' He wonders if your father is teaching you a new kind of warfare."
They really think a nineteen-year-old girl is a political mastermind just because she stopped being a brat, Samantha thought, feeling the familiar weight of corporate-level exhaustion.
"There is no warfare, Duchess," Reinn firmly stated. "I simply woke up and realized that chasing men who do not want to be caught is an inefficient use of my time. I would rather spend my days in a garden than in a chase."
There was a hefty footstep at the solarium's door.
In the doorway stood Dyierrean Mydril. His dark hair clung to his forehead, his formal tunic was missing, and it was obvious that he had just returned from the training grounds. The pressure in the room was instantly altered by his presence.
The "Imperial Spark" flared in the air, the regal magic he received from Giyenna. For Reinn, it was like a low, repetitive hum that made the back of her neck tingle; to an average person, it might have been like a sudden drop in temperature.
"Mother," Dyierrean said, turning to look at Reinn. "I didn't realize the tea had already begun."
Giyenna said, "You are just in time, Dyierrean," pointing to the vacant chair next to her. "Lady Reinn was just explaining her new philosophy on efficiency."
Dyierrean took a seat, his actions precise and methodical. He ignored the tea. He stared at Reinn, really stared at her, as though attempting to see the soul behind the skin and bone.
"You're not wearing the sapphire pendant," Dyierrean said in a low-pitched voice. "The one you used to claim was a symbol of our destiny."
The original Reinn's embarrassing dialogue made Reinn conceal a shudder. "It was too heavy, Lord Dyierrean. It gave me a neckache. I've found that I prefer lighter things lately."
"Like grey cloaks and silence?" he countered.
"Precisely."
There was a heavy hush after. Giyenna observed the two of them with the predatory interest of a chess player. The girl in the gold-trimmed dress seemed to be the target of her son's magic, which she saw twitching on the arm of his chair. Normally, his magic was so cool and collected.
Dyierrean repeated the term "Efficiency," which sounded odd coming from him. "And what is the most 'efficient' end to this afternoon, Lady Reinn? Shall I escort you to the gates, or are you waiting for me to apologize for being... a lamp post?"
Reinn blinked. He had heard her comment to the merchant.
Reinn stood up and gave a flawless curtsy. "An apology isn't necessary," she remarked. "I've taken enough of your time. Duchess, the tea was... illuminating."
Dyierrean got up as Reinn turned to go. "I'll see her out, Mother."
It took longer than Reinn remembered to walk to the Hylde carriage. The air between them was heavy with the aroma of ozone as they strolled silently along the stone hallways.
Dyierrean blocked her passage by stepping in front of her when they arrived at the manor's enormous oak doors. Reinn felt as though she was up against a wall because of his height and the intensity of his gaze, even though he didn't touch her.
Despite her heart pounding, she inquired in a firm voice, "What do you want, Dyierrean?"
"Who are you?" he inquired in a barely audible whisper. "You look like Reinn Hylde. You speak with her voice. But your eyes... they look like they've seen things that don't belong in this kingdom."
A chill went through Reinn. He's too perceptive. He is overly intuitive due to his royal ancestry.
"I'm just a woman who wants to be left alone," she said, meeting his gaze. "Is that so hard to believe?"
"In this palace? Yes," replied Dyierrean. His gloved fingers nearly touched her chin as he extended his hand, but he stopped himself and withdrew. "You've made everyone look at you, Reinn. The Emperor, the Prince... and me. If you wanted peace, you chose the worst possible way to get it."
"And what way is that?"
"By becoming the only interesting thing in a world full of shadows," he remarked as he turned to let her into the carriage.
Reinn noticed Dyierrean standing on the steps, his black cloak flapping in the wind, as the carriage drew away. He appeared serious, intimidating, and completely obsessed.
Her goal had been to play a supporting role. However, she became aware that she had unintentionally become the protagonist of a story that was no longer adhering to the original plot as she saw the Wolf's manor fade into the distance.