Crimson and Gold

After the night spent in ‘Charybdis’, Lysandra and Saria returned to the Royal Palace shortly past noon.

The Igmerian Peninsula, where Aervelis was located, was under the strong influence of the Fire Element. Because of this, it was known for its hot and generally dry environment. It was especially true during the summer period, when the days lasted up to twenty hours, giving the land plenty of time to heat up.

Despite those harsh conditions, the Igmerian Peninsula, at the time, housed six countries—Shahriz, Makhar, Metti, Meer, Sankh-Ra, Ekhii-Ra, Etta—and one third of the Aelius Empire’s territories.

Unknowingly facing one of the hottest days in twenty years, Saria couldn’t fathom what could push anyone to settle in such an unlivable environment.

If the ancestors were willing to live here, then there was nothing stopping them from driving Charr and his Ājin out of a volcano and building their houses among the molten lava!

Truly, the ways of the ancients were beyond the comprehension of a mere mortal…

“Finally,” Saria sighed as they entered the marbled hallway leading to the Princess’ Pavilion. “I was melting.”

She wiped the sweat of her forehead with a handkerchief and glanced at Lysandra.

Despite the unbearable heat, the Princess seemed completely unaffected. There was not even a drop of sweat on her radiant skin, no flushed cheeks or anything else that would indicate being bothered by the weather.

“It feels like we’re experiencing two different realities,” Saria muttered, maybe a little jealous.

Lysandra laughed, then helped to wipe off another drop of sweat falling down her lover’s temple. “Fire is the Sun-King’s domain. Even without my family’s magic, my body is much more resistant to heat,” she patiently explained.

“Then what kind of water nymph am I related to to sweat so much?” Saria groaned.

“I’ll ask the servants to prepare a cool bath for you,” the Princess said, feeling the urge to dote on her lover a little bit more.

Saria complaining about trivial things was a very unusual occurrence after all.

“Ah, Your Highness. What a surprise.”

Saria and Lysandra looked towards the voice in unison.

It belonged to a man, presumably in his fifties, dressed in a plain scholarly toga.

His black hair, graying at the temples, circled his head like a laurel, emphasizing the bald spot at the top.

With his already small height and hunched back, this effect was even worse.

The man’s dark green irises promptly darted from Lysandra to Saria, sweeping across her face, lingering a moment too long for comfort on her eyes.

“Magister Malachar,” Lysandra greeted the man. “I didn’t expect to run into you here,” she said.

Noticing the caution in her voice, Saria tensed, paying special attention to the visitor.

“I could say the same. I was told you’ve been resting in the countryside. I thought I wouldn’t have a chance to meet you today.”

The Magister approached them with a friendly smile that didn’t reach his eyes.

Aside from the fake politeness, there was something else that felt off about him, but Saria couldn’t put her finger on what exactly it was.

Lysandra’s reaction to the man didn’t make it easier for her either.

The Princess was clearly on edge, scrutinizing the man with her narrowed eyes. Her posture and her expression both exuded the aura of authority she showed only in front of those considered dangerous or suspicious.

“Is that what brought you to the Palace?” she asked, positioning herself between Saria and the Magister.

“Well… Not really, no.” The man folded his arms behind his hunched back. “I received news that Loukios is in Aervelis again, so I have decided to visit. Despite the years, I’m still his teacher.” He chuckled.

His ostensibly carefree tone did little to disarm the tense mood.

A stiff half-smile appeared on the Princess’ face.

“I hope you had a pleasant visit, Magister. Now, I must excuse myself. It’s been a tiring journey, would like to refresh myself before dinner.”

Lysandra walked past the man. Saria was about to do the same when suddenly the man sidestepped to block her way.

“What peculiar eyes you have, girl.” He grinned, staring deeply into her eyes as if trying to peer into her deepest, darkest secrets. “It is said that there was once an elven race that commanded blood. Their power was so extraordinary that they managed to have the whole continent bow to them. Red eyes were a defining characteristic.”

Even though the Magister’s words on the surface appeared as nothing more than trivia shared by a passionate teacher, the veiled meaning didn’t escape Saria’s notice.

“It is also said that if you put an egg in a boar’s dung and store it for a year, it will turn into gold,” Saria replied without a hint of emotion in her voice.

The corridor fell completely silent for a short while.

In normal circumstances, this level of disrespect towards someone of a higher status than her own could cost her a whipping or even her life. However, seeing that the Princess didn’t hide her dislike towards the man, and considering that there was no one else in the hallway, Saria allowed herself to be less reserved.

The heat was also getting to her, and the old man was getting between her and the cool bath, so it could be considered a well-deserved jab.

Surprisingly, the Magister didn’t find her words offensive at all.

A crooked smile appeared on his face. “I can see why Her Highness keeps you around. You’re quite entertaining, girl.”

Saria was preparing another retort when she heard Lysandra’s voice from behind the man.

“She is indeed,” the Princess said and walked back to face the Magister. “She’s entertaining, hardworking, and loyal.”

Positioned once again between the man and her lover, she looked like a lioness ready to rip the throat out of anyone who dared to reach for what belonged to her.

The already smitten heart in Saria’s chest thumped excitedly. Her woman was truly one of a kind, an irresistible beauty.

“You are very lucky, Your Highness. Loyalty is rare among friends, let alone coming from someone stripped of their rights and humanity.” Malachar’s eyes finally left Saria to focus on the Princess. “You ought to cherish it greatly, Your Highness.”

Lysandra straightened her back and took a step closer to the Magister with nonchalance. “We’ve been acquainted for a long time, Magister. You should know that I always take good care of those willing to stand by my side.” Hanging her voice, she stared down at him. “And I am very protective of them.”

The moment Lysandra finished speaking, two guards appeared behind the Magister.

Despite the clear warning, the man didn’t seem intimidated. The smirk returned to his face. “I always knew you had incredible potential, Your Highness. It’s a pity your father never agreed for me to tutor you,” he said, and with a court nod, left them both.

The moment Malachar disappeared around the corner, Lysandra let out a groan, pinching the bridge of her nose.

She knew returning to the Palace wouldn’t be pleasant, but she never expected this encounter would be the first thing that happened when she arrived.

“Who was that?” Saria asked, once they were alone again.

“Magister Malachar of Karteia. He was Loukios’ tutor when we were younger.”

Hearing this, Saria felt a bit worried. “Is he going to cause problems?”

“I don’t think so. He’s harmless, unless you count being bored to death by his ramblings.” The Princess sighed. “My father isn’t fond of him either, so we don’t have to worry.”

Lysandra and Saria walked back to the Princess’ chambers.

Barely making the turn around the corner, they were welcomed by familiar faces.

“Your Highness! Welcome back.” Alkaios rushed to greet her. “How was your trip?”

Lysandra breathed a sigh of relief in her heart that she decided to leave Alkaios and Heron behind. If they joined the trip, they would be gone alongside everyone in Sisica.

“It was alright,” she said, deciding to keep the horrors of it a secret for now. “How were things here?”

“We were keeping an eye on your room as you asked,” Alkaios chimed in. “It was calm the whole time.”

“Nobody tried getting in?”

“Nobody,” Heron confirmed. “We regularly checked inside, too, but everything looks to be in order.”

Being spared more trouble, Lysandra finally relaxed. “Thank you.”

Once she and Saria walked into the room, the Princess headed directly to the cupboard and opened the wooden jewelry box.

Inside, instead of bracelets, rings, or earrings was only one necklace. One that Saria recognized very well.

“It’s still here. Good,” Lysandra fixed the silver chain and brushed her finger against the polished surface of the moonstone.

“The Faolán amulet? Do you think someone will try to steal it?” Saria walked over and looked at the jewelry.

They still had no idea how she ended up in its possession or what happened to its original owner. For now, they placed their hopes in the final memory recovery session with Asteria.

The visit was scheduled to happen in a few days, so with a bit of luck, their questions would finally be granted an answer.

“I’m not sure. I’ve been unable to contact its owner for a long time, so I can’t tell what is going on.” Lysandra frowned. “It’s better safe than sorry.”

Saria glanced at the rather simple and not very sturdy box. “Wouldn’t it be safer in a vault or a safe?” she asked hesitantly.

A cunning smile appeared on Lysandra’s face. “Come here,” she gestured at her lover.

When Saria walked over, the Princess closed the box and moved away ever so slightly. “Open it.”

When Saria had lifted the lid, she was stunned. What she expected to see the first time was now right before her eyes.

Silver and gold, rubies, emeralds, diamonds. Rings upon rings, bracelets upon bracelets.

And no trace of the moonstone necklace.

Seeing the surprise on Saria’s face, Lysandra smirked. “I had this box made specifically for something like this. It will show its secret content only to me. Everyone else will see some trinkets.”

Another love-struck throb crossed Saria’s heart. “I should have known better than to underestimate you,” she grinned.

“Mm,” Lysandra hummed as she stepped closer and lifted her lover’s chin with her finger. “You should. If you do this again, I’ll have to teach you a lesson,” she purred.