Aria sat in her chambers, watching the setting sun paint her white walls in shades of gold and crimson.
The colors reminded her of that moment in the garden - of Melisa’s spell wreathing that lizard (Sir Scales, was it?) in red light before...
[Stop it,] she commanded herself, but the image played in her mind again anyway. The way the lizard’s eyes had glazed over, how its tiny body had gone still. Just like that - from alive to dead in the span of a heartbeat.
She’d been watching that scene on repeat in her mind all afternoon, like a particularly morbid theater performance she couldn’t look away from. But there had to be a solution. There had to be. Melisa’s magic had already done the impossible once, bringing her father back from death’s doorstep. Surely she could do it again?
[And if not her, then someone else. We have the greatest minds in magical theory right here, in Syux.]
A knock at her door interrupted her spiraling thoughts.
"Enter," she called out, quickly straightening her posture. A princess never slouched, even in private. Her mother’s voice, stern and proper, echoed in her head.
Her heart clenched when her father walked in.
King Aldric looked... tired. More than tired - worn. His usually pristine robes seemed to hang a bit loose on his frame, and the shadows under his eyes had deepened.
[He didn’t look this bad this morning,] Aria thought, panic fluttering in her chest. [Or did I just not want to see it?]
"My little snowflake," he said warmly, using her childhood nickname. That alone was enough to make her worry spike - he hadn’t called her that in public since she was twelve. "Do you have a moment for your old father?"
"Of course," she gestured to the chair across from her. "Would you like some tea?"
He waved off the offer, settling into the chair with a slight grunt.
"Ah, no. There’s something we need to discuss," he began, his voice carrying that particular weight she’d learned to associate with matters of state. "Something I should have told you sooner, perhaps."
[No,] Aria thought, her hands clenching in her lap. [We don’t need to have this conversation.]
"I’m dying, snowflake."
The words hung in the air between them, heavy and final.
But Aria felt her lips curl into a smile.
"Actually, Father, I already know," she said, unable to keep the smugness from her voice. "And you’ll be happy to know I’m already working on a solution."
His eyebrows rose slightly.
"Oh?"
"Yes! You remember Melisa Blackflame? The nim girl who saved you? Well, she and Lady Zephyra are working on perfecting the healing spell. We’ve already made significant progress in understanding how it works."
[Just... maybe don’t mention the dead lizard,] she thought.
Her father’s expression softened in a way that made her stomach drop.
"That’s... wonderful, snowflake. But that’s not why I’m here." He leaned forward, his eyes - so like her own - holding hers steadily. "When it happens-"
"If it happens," she corrected quickly.
"When it happens," he continued gently but firmly, "you need to be ready. Syux will look to you for leadership. The nobles, the military, the common people - they’ll all need their princess to be strong."
"But they won’t need to," Aria insisted, standing up to pace. "We’re going to fix this. Melisa’s magic-"
"Is remarkable," he finished. "But... I do not believe it to be infinite. And even if she succeeds, even if she finds some way to extend my life again, we both know it won’t last forever. Nothing does."
"... You mean like mother didn’t last?" Aria said before she could stop herself. Then winced at her own words.
The silence that followed was deafening.
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"Your mother," the king finally said, his voice soft, "made her own choices."
"It was not a suicide!" Aria yelled back but the king just barreled through.
"And now I need you to be ready to make yours. As a ruler."
Hearing him talk like this was a bit too much. It made his words sink in all the more, and Aria shivered in the process.
"I don’t want to be ready," Aria whispered, hating how childish she sounded. "I don’t want to rule. I want you to stay."
He stood, crossing the room to pull her into a hug. She couldn’t remember the last time he’d done that - probably not since before she’d started her diplomatic missions to Rhaya.
"I know. Trust me, I know."
"It’s going to be fine," she insisted against his chest, breathing in the familiar scent of his robes - ink and parchment that always clung to him. "We’re going to fix this. You’ll see."
He smiled down at her, but something in his eyes made her want to cry.
"Of course we will," he said, and she could hear what he wasn’t saying. That he was humoring her. That he’d already accepted what she refused to.
[No,] she thought fiercely as he kissed her forehead and turned to leave. [I won’t accept it. I won’t. There has to be a way. There has to be.]
---
{Melisa}
Lord Malachim’s study was exactly what you’d expect from someone who thought gold-leaf everything was the height of taste. Melisa tried not to roll her eyes at the pretentiousness of it all as she watched Isabella and Kimiko hash out the final details for the showcase.
Isabella, dressed in an elegant green dress that complemented her pink fox ears and tail, was practically bouncing in her seat as she discussed the presentation schedule. Her mother Kimiko sat beside her, managing to look both completely professional and absolutely indecent in a way that only she could pull off. Her massive tits threatened to spill out of her low-cut dress with every gesture, and Melisa was pretty sure she’d caught Lord Malachim drooling at least twice.
[Though honestly,] Melisa thought, her tail curling with amusement, [that’s probably helping seal the deal.]
Slowly, Melisa focused on what Isabella was saying.
"I think showing how the wand can stabilize complex spellsigns will really wow the investors."
"Indeed," Lord Malachim stroked his perfectly manicured beard. "Though perhaps we should consider a more... dramatic demonstration?"
[Yeah, I bet you’ll get your dramatic demonstration,] Melisa thought, keeping her face carefully neutral. [Just maybe not the kind you’re expecting.]
Throughout the entire meeting, she couldn’t shake the feeling of being watched. It wasn’t anything specific - no mysterious shadows or obvious spies - just a constant prickle at the back of her neck that made her tail twitch nervously.
Finally, after what felt like hours of planning and negotiating, they wrapped up the meeting. As they walked out of Malachim’s mansion, Isabella chattered excitedly about the upcoming showcase while Kimiko added occasional comments.
"And then," Isabella grinned, "when everyone sees how the wand can help just about anyone cast spells like an archmage..."
"They’ll be falling over themselves to invest," Kimiko finished, ruffling her daughter’s hair affectionately. "Assuming they can tear their eyes away from that cute outfit you’ll be wearing."
"Mom!" Isabella laughed, but Melisa noticed how she pressed closer to Kimiko, their hands brushing.
The feeling of being watched intensified as they approached Javir’s waiting carriage.
It was a beautiful thing, almost ethereal in appearance, pulled by horses that seemed to be made of moonlight and shadow. Javir sat at the reins, her sunlight-colored hair caught in the afternoon breeze.
Melisa climbed up next to her mentor while Isabella and Kimiko settled in the cart behind them, still discussing showcase details between increasingly flirtatious touches.
As soon as they started moving, Javir spoke without turning her head.
"Melisa, can you hear anything from outside the carriage?"
Melisa listened carefully, then frowned.
"No, actually. Not even the horses’ hooves."
"Good," Javir nodded, "that means the spell is working."
"Spell?"
"A privacy bubble," Javir explained, her hands steady on the reins. "No sound goes in or out. Which means we can finally talk freely. Could have done this last night, but, ironically, I feel like we have more privacy here than at home."
"Really?" Melisa asked as she looked back. Inside the cart, behind them, Melisa watched how Isabella and Kimiko were speaking to each other, all laughs and giggles, but Melisa couldn’t hear them.
"Yep. We’re being watched," Javir continued, her voice matter-of-fact. "Have been since we left the academy. The Shadow Mages have eyes on us - good ones, too. Professional-level surveillance."
Melisa’s tail curled tightly around her waist.
"Shit. Do you think they suspect-"
"They know," Javir cut her off. "Jaylin told me. I’ll explain how she told me on the way, but, point is, they know. About the trap, about our plans for the showcase, all of it. And here’s the interesting part - they’re still planning to come."
"What?" Melisa asked, baffled. "But if they know it’s a trap..."
"Then they want this confrontation as much as we do," Javir finished. "They’re tired of the games. They want an end to this, one way or another. The showcase will be their chance to eliminate all their problems at once."
"... Or our chance to finally stop them," Melisa said quietly.
"Precisely." Javir’s eyes never left the road ahead. "So perhaps it’s time we started making some real plans. After all," a small smile curved her lips, "if they’re going to crash our party anyway, we might as well make it memorable."
As they rode on in their bubble of magical silence, Melisa couldn’t help but think that this was exactly what both sides wanted - a chance to end things definitively. No more shadows, no more games, just a final confrontation.
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[Though,] she thought, her mind already racing with possibilities, [that doesn’t mean we can’t stack the deck in our favor.]