Crimson and Gold

Saria managed to drag herself back to her room, where she made an attempt at cleaning and disinfecting the wounds.

Given that they were all on her back, it was nearly impossible to do on her own. That was probably the intention behind Loukios’ outlawing of helping her.

Nevertheless, it wasn’t something Saria would do anyway.

In the end, after rinsing her back to the best of her abilities and quickly brewing some medicinal herbs to drink, she lay down on her stomach on her bunk.

There, under the pillow, she found a letter. Judging by its content, it must have been left by Drusus when he came to visit Lysandra.

There were three names written on the paper.

Aegon of Karteia.

Demerius, House Polis.

Sybian, House Pyrius.

Those were the people acting against Lysandra that Drusus deemed the most harmful.

Saria recognized two of the noblemen listed—Demerius and Sybian, but she was unfamiliar with the third name.

“I guess I’ll have to look into that Aegon of Karteia. In the meantime, I could start with Demerius,” Saria thought aloud. Her voice started getting weaker as she was speaking.

The fight and the pain exhausted her beyond her limits, so she struggled to keep her eyes open.

Once the fatigue reached its peak, she fell asleep in an instant.

Her sleep was far from peaceful, however.

Shortly after, she broke a fever, which threw her into a dazed state between being awake and dreaming.

She couldn’t tell how long she had been suspended like this. Was it days or hours? The sense of time was completely lost to her.

When she regained some clarity, she sensed someone tending to her wounds.

She tried getting up, but a hand quickly pressed her to stay down. “Don’t move. I just applied the ointment, it needs time to absorb.”

Saria recognized the voice immediately, but it was hard for her to believe. “Dolores?”

A hum confirmed her suspicions.

“What are you doing here?” Saria asked.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” the woman rebutted, preparing another portion of the medicine.

“You shouldn’t be here. I can manage on my own.”

“Mhm,” Dolores hummed again, then started applying another layer of ointment on Saria’s back. “You were managing on your own so well that the wounds got infected and you broke a fever.”

“But Loukios—”

“If Loukios wants to whip an old woman, then he can be my guest. I’ve been in this Palace long before he stopped wetting his bed. I’m not afraid of his tantrums.”

Of course, if there was one person in the Palace who was willing to openly disobey Loukios, it had to be Dolores.

Knowing her for quite some time now, Saria wasn’t surprised by this.

Dolores ruled the Palace staff with a heavy hand, but it wasn’t hard to see that it all was a result of her very strong morals.

If she believed in something, she would stand by those beliefs no matter the cost.

“Thank you,” Saria said, suddenly feeling a great deal of respect for the woman.

In response, Dolores hummed in her usual fashion and continued applying the medicine.

A pleasant herbal scent filled the room, soothing the pain and the mind.

“Smells nice,” Saria said, inhaling the air. “What ointment is that? All the medicine I know smells so bad they can double as smelling salts.”

“Her Highness made it specifically for you.”

Saria let out a soft laugh. “I should have known Lysandra wouldn’t be able to stay away from this.”

“Mhm.” Dolores hummed in Dolores’ fashion, meticulously applying the ointment.

Lysandra called for her a while ago and covertly asked her to take care of Saria for her.

Dolores knew the Princess since she was a child, so it was natural that she tasked her specifically with this. It was more surprising for the old maid that Lysandra asked for help in the first place.

In the twenty-eight years that they knew each other, Lysandra asked Dolores for help three times.

Two times were related to this daethri.

Lysandra could give the impression of someone spoiled, but those who had spent enough time with her were aware that the Princess had an impossible aversion to asking for help when it mattered.

Knowing this, it didn’t take a genius to realize that Saria was someone special to her.

“She cares about you, and that’s why you mustn’t cause her any more trouble,” Dolores warned.

Saria sighed, feeling the weight of the complex feeling welling in her heart.

The image of Lysandra standing among the crowd flashed before her eyes. She looked terrified and heartbroken.

Saria hated being the reason behind that expression. She hated that Lysandra had to see everything that happened.

She couldn’t care less what absurd punishment Loukios came up with as long as the Princess didn’t have to see it.

It would be easier if you didn’t love me.

This was something that worried Saria ever since the relationship between her and Lysandra became ambiguous.

In the situation they were in, love was a weakness. It was something that could be easily exploited and used by those who wished them harm.

Even though her own feelings made her yearn for Lysandra to return them, her reason feared the day it would become true. Because from that point onwards, Saria no longer belonged only to herself.

Whether she understood it or not, it was a fact that Lysandra loved her, and because of that, she would share everything that Saria experienced.

Joy or sadness.

Pain or pleasure.

Hope or despair.

From the moment Lysandra accepted her in her heart, all of those experiences were there to be shared.

Saria knew this because this was the same for her. Through thick and thin, she would always be with Lysandra.

Since unloving was not an option, there was only one thing left for her to do.

She had to take this weakness and turn it into a strength.

She had to become better, stronger, and more careful. She couldn’t take unnecessary risks anymore.

If getting hurt caused Lysandra heartbreak, then she would stop getting hurt.

Making up her mind, Saria sighed once again. “She has a good heart.”

“Lysandra was always such a gentle child.” Dolores agreed. “So kind since the day she was born. Just like Her Majesty the Empress, may her soul rest in the Elysian Fields. It’s hard to believe both Highnesses are her children.”

“I’ve heard the Empress died when Lysandra was still a child?” Saria asked, noticing a chance to learn more about the Royal family.

“She did. Lysandra was six, Loukios was nine. The Empress was sickly ever since giving birth to Lysandra,” the maid said, her thoughts drifting to the memories she hadn’t revisited for a long time.

“If you ask me, it was having a husband like this that drove her into her grave,” she added unexpectedly.

“Was their marriage not happy?” Saria didn’t know much about Lysandra’s family, but seeing that the Emperor never remarried, it gave her the impression that he must have really loved the Empress.

“It was just another political marriage,” Dolores waved her hand. “At the time, the situation between Aelius and Shahriz was very tense, so Princess Arvatii was specifically chosen to solidify the truce between the two.”

It was big news at the time. So much so that even a plebeian like her was aware of the situation and heard all sorts of rumors about it.

Thinking about the past, Dolores felt a sudden weight on her heart. “Everything was different when Her Majesty was alive,” she sighed. “Loukios was such a sweet boy back then. He wouldn’t go a day without bringing little Lysandra some kind of gifts.”

Dolores recalled all the times she had to chase the young Prince around the Palace, because he once again stole a pie from the kitchen, and couldn’t help but smile.

“He would often say that once he became the emperor, he was going to build Lysandra a palace made of gold,” she said.

Her voice sounded so gentle that Saria had to take a look over her shoulder to make sure it was still Dolores talking.

“It’s like a part of him died that day alongside his mother.”

Saria thought about what she had just learned and furrowed her brows. “You said that it was the marriage that killed the Empress?”

Dolores hummed. “After Lysandra was born, Octavius became obsessed with some prophecy. He and Empress Arvatii often argued about it.

“Eventually, she moved to the pavilion and took the children with her. But from that point her health started deteriorating fast, and soon after it was her funeral.”

Hearing the mention of the prophecy, Saria immediately perked up. “Do you know what kind of prophecy he was so obsessed with?” she asked, full of hope.

“I don’t know. I never heard any details. But I think it had something to do with Loukios and Lysandra because they were often mentioned during their fights.”

“I see.” Saria fell back on the pillow, resigned.

Knowing that the prophecy was related to Loukios and Lysandra could be a lead, she comforted herself in her heart.

“Whatever it was, I hope this whole prophecy will stay forgotten,” Dolores said as she finished preparing the last portion of medicine for Saria. “It already caused so much damage to this family. I fear to think whose life it would claim this time.”

Later that evening, Saria felt much better after having the ointment applied and drinking the medicinal concoction Dolores prepared for her, so she decided to send a message to Lysandra.

She sat by the desk and hastily wrote the words on a small sheet of paper. She was about to fold it and cast the messenger spell on it when an idea popped into her head.

Dipping the quill in ink, she thought for a second, then quickly added a few more scribbles.

Somewhat proud of her creation, she folded the paper into a small square, then cast the spell she used in one of her memories.

“Aith Anis Aer.”

The paper flashed with pale blue light, then dissolved into tiny pieces, before taking the shape of a blue butterfly.

In the Princess’ quarters, Lysandra was standing on the balcony, absentmindedly gazing into the starless sky.

Suddenly, a blue butterfly landed on her finger.

She didn’t recognize the spell right away, so seeing the insect suddenly shatter into pieces gave her a small fright.

Fortunately, the transformation ended in a blink of an eye, and when she realized it was a message she was holding, the memories quickly resurfaced, calming her nerves.

Lysandra unfolded the paper and froze.

Her eyes scanned the contents of the message once, then twice, then trice. Eventually, she wasn’t able to hold back anymore, and she started laughing.

My Beloved,

Thank you for the medicine. Your alchemy skills are incredible. I’m feeling much better now. I’ll be back on my feet in no time.

I wish I could be with you tonight.

Forever yours,

S.

While the message was sweet, no doubt, the cause of Lysandra’s laugh was at the bottom of the letter.

In the right corner, next to the signature, was a very hastily created, yet shockingly accurate, rendition of Saria in the form of a very smug-looking stick figure.

To add to the image of someone recovering fast, the Ink Saria was proudly flexing her two-dimensional muscles.

“So silly...” Even when she stopped laughing out loud and went to bed, the smile never left Lysandra’s lips that night.