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 Hylde estate was a sun-filled haven, while the Mydril house was a stronghold of darkness. However, the sound of silver trumpets and the distinct clatter of the Imperial Guard broke that tranquility the next morning.
Giywon Edryyion, the Crown Prince, did not take any quiet action. His silver hair caught the light like a halo as he rode a white steed to the gates of Hylde. He was supposedly there to "check on the welfare of a childhood friend," not to attend a formal summit.
Reinn was trying to repot a fern in the conservatory, which she found to be considerably more therapeutic than embroidery. Her hair was disheveledly put up, and she wore a plain dress over an old, dirty apron. She had a gardener's appearance.
"You always did have a strange way of playing in the dirt, Reinn."
This time, Reinn didn't jump. That voice was familiar to her; it was musical, smooth, and full of a carefree sense of superiority. Giywon was standing amid the tropical palms when she turned and wiped a speck of dirt from her cheek.
"Your Imperial Highness," she uttered, her heavy apron impeding her feeble curtsy. "You're early. My father is still in his study finishing the morning reports."
Giywon said, "I didn't come to see the Duke," as he moved in closer. His blue eyes settled on the strewn dirt as he scanned the damp chamber. "I came to see the girl who allegedly told Dyierrean Mydril that he was a 'lamp post.' The capital is dining on that story, you know."
With a sigh, Reinn picked up a trowel. "It was a metaphor, Giywon. One that I'm starting to regret."
Giywon chuckled, and the Crown Prince's mask briefly came off to show the youngster who used to make fun of her in the rose gardens. "It was brilliant. But it was also... bold. You've never been bold in that way before. You used to be loud, yes, but your strength was always in your tantrums. This? This quiet confidence is far more dangerous."
He approached her workbench and rested his hip on the wood. Reinn could smell the pricey citrus fragrance he was wearing since he was too close.
"We've known each other since we were in baby diapers, Reinn," he remarked, lowering his voice, "I remember you crying because I stole your wooden lion. I remember the way you used to follow me around the palace until your feet bled. Why the sudden distance? Did I do something to offend the 'new' Lady Hylde?"
Reinn gave him a direct glance. Giywon was the kind of man Samantha Lim had only ever seen on billboards; he was incredibly attractive. However, she could see the calculation in his eyes. He was here to get his beloved toy back, not merely to reminisce.
"You haven't offended me, Giywon," she responded composedly. "I've just realized that the 'distance' was always there. I was the only one running to close it. I've decided to stop running. It's better for my joints."
Giywon's grin wavered. His palm hovered over her filthy fingers as he extended his hand. "And what if I don't want you to stop? What if I've decided that I like the distance even less than the chasing?"
Reinn said, "Then that sounds like a personal problem for the Crown Prince," as she reached for a watering can.
The conservatory's air became dense. Giywon was not accustomed to being turned down. He was the world's heir, the Dragon. It was an unexpected blow to his heart to be treated with the same courteous indifference she had shown the Wolf.
"You're playing a very high-stakes game, Reinn," he whispered.
"I'm not playing at all," she retorted. "That's the part none of you seem to understand."
A pale-looking servant entered the room before Giywon could reply. "Your Highness... My Lady... Lord Dyierrean Mydril has just arrived. He says he has... urgent documents for the Prince."
A quick, icy fury flared in Giywon's eyes. "Urgent documents? Here? At the Hylde manor?"
Reinn's gaze shifted from the Prince to the entryway, where Dyierrean had already appeared with a thunderstorm-dark expression. Standing in the green, muggy light of the conservatory, the three of them were political adversaries, childhood friends, and now something far more complicated.
The triangle completed itself. Samantha Lim, who merely wished to cultivate ferns peacefully, became aware that she was suddenly at the epicenter of a storm that had the potential to destroy the empire.
The conservatory seemed to have shrunk to the size of a broom closet all of a sudden. Giywon, the Golden Dragon, stood to one side, exuding regal outrage. Conversely, Dyierrean, the Cold Wolf, was standing with a pile of documents that appeared remarkably similar to blank parchment.
Reinn stood in the center, clutching a wet fern and sporting an apron smeared with grime.
"Urgent documents, Dyierrean?" Giywon asked, his voice dripping with honeyed sarcasm. "I didn't realize the Mydril House had started a courier service. Does it pay well?"
Dyierrean did not flinch. "It pays in peace of mind, Your Highness. I felt it was my duty to ensure the Crown Prince wasn't... disturbing the local wildlife." He looked at Reinn's disheveled hair before turning back to Giywon. "Though it seems I'm too late. You've already made her look like she's been wrestling with a hedge."
Reinn said, "I was repotting!" and made a satisfied clang as she threw her trowel into a pail. "And if both of you are quite finished measuring your egos, my father is hosting lunch. Since you're both here, you might as well come and make him miserable instead of me."
The lunch was a theatrical masterpiece of awkwardness.
Seated at the head of the table, Duke Eyrion Hylde resembled a lion who had just discovered two hyenas in his cave. With a bit too much enthusiasm, he continued honing his steak knife.
"So," Eyrion began, growling softly. "The Crown Prince and the Mydril Heir. In my dining room. At the same time. To what do I owe this... infestation?"
Reinn whispered, "Father, please," as she prodded her salad.
Giywon said, "I am merely here to support Reinn's new interest in botany, Duke Eyrion," with his most radiant, "I will be King one day" smile. He winked as he turned to face Reinn. "Though I think she'd look better with roses than ferns. Roses have thorns to keep the pests away."
Dyierrean laughed a little, a dry bark. "Thorns are useless if the pest is a dragon who thinks everything belongs to him. Personally, I think the fern suits her. It's quiet, hardy, and thrives in the shade—away from the blinding light of... certain personalities."
Giywon chirped, "Oh, look," gesturing to Dyierrean's dish. "The Wolf is being poetic. Did you practice that in the mirror this morning, or did your horse help you write it?"
Dyierrean tightened his hold on his silver fork. "I don't need help expressing the truth, Giywon. Unlike some, I don't need a herald to announce my every thought."
Both men leaped to grab the bread basket for Reinn as soon as she grabbed for a dinner roll. A wordless struggle of strength broke out over a piece of sourdough as their hands met over the rolls.
Reinn responded, "I can pick up my own bread," grabbing a roll from between their interlocked fingers. "Honestly, if either of you had spent this much energy on the border taxes, we'd be the richest empire in history."
From the end of the table, Eyldion said, "She has a point," clearly enjoying the performance. "But tell me, Dyierrean, is it true you've started 'patrolling' near our estate? I didn't know the Mydril wolves liked to sniff around the Hylde gardens at night."
The only indication of Dyierrean's shame was the slight pinkening of his ears. "The security in this district is... lacking."
"And you, Giywon," Eyldion added, reclining. "I heard you cancelled a meeting with the trade ministers to come here. Is my sister really more interesting than silver imports?"
Giywon never missed a beat. His eyes danced with mischief as he leaned in Reinn's direction. "Silver is cold and predictable. Reinn, on the other hand, just told me I was a 'personal problem.' I haven't been this entertained since the Jester fell into the palace moat."
Reinn deadpanned, "I'm glad my existence is a circus for you."
"Not a circus," Dyierrean muttered in an unexpectedly earnest tone. "A puzzle. One I intend to solve before someone else breaks the pieces."
Giywon's smile became acerbic. "A puzzle? Careful, Dyierrean. Some puzzles are meant to be kept in the Royal Treasury."
Reinn finally yelled, "I am not a piece of jewelry!" and slammed her napkin on the table. "I am a person who wants to finish her lunch in a house that doesn't smell like testosterone and expensive cologne!"
Ignoring her father's startled look, she got to her feet.
"Giywon, go back to your palace and rule something. Dyierrean, go back to your manor and... I don't know, scowl at a wall. I'm going to my room to read. If either of you follows me, I will tell Father to release the actual lions from the family crest."
The four men still at the table sat in startled silence as she strode out of the room.
It was Eyldion who spoke first. He glanced at Giywon and Dyierrean, who appeared to be reprimanded puppies dressed in pricey silk.
Eyldion smiled and reached for a chicken leg. "Well," he said. "Which one of you wants to tell her the lions on the crest are just statues? I'm certainly not doing it. She looks like she'd actually make them come to life today."
With a sigh, Giywon leaned back and observed the doorway through which Reinn had just disappeared. "She's terrifying. I think I'm in love."
For a brief while, Dyierrean's frown softened as he glanced at the vacant seat next to him. "Shut up, Giywon. I saw her first."