Crimson and Gold

After sending Saria to rest, Lysandra first visited the library she had built for herself in the pavilion, then returned to her chambers with two tall piles of books and scrolls. All dedicated to magical analysis and alchemy.

The matter of the drug was far from solved, and knowing that the lack of magic was holding her back, the Princess’ frustration was reaching its peak. To distract herself from the helplessness she was feeling, she naturally threw herself into studies.

Lysandra spent in this manner the next couple of days, only taking a short break to meet with Saria before she left on another patrol with Eris.

It was yet another morning busy with magical literature, when a knock sounded in the Princess’ chambers.

“Your Highness?” A maid hesitantly poked her head through the door.

“Yes?” Lysandra asked absentmindedly from over the scrolls scattered on the table.

“Someone came to see you…”

Lysandra picked up a quill and took a few quick notes in her journal. “Is it Drusus?” she asked, tracing her finger over the text.

“No.”

“Saria?”

The maid gulped audibly and glanced at the corridor. “N-No, Your Highness…”

Lysandra’s long brows knit tightly, her hand paused over the parchment covered with her elegant, albeit hasty writing. “Then tell them I’m busy,” she said, promptly returning to her studies. “And don’t disturb me unless it’s one of those two people I mentioned.”

Before the girl could say anything, the door burst open as the guest stormed inside.

“Really? Is this how you treat your dearest friend after she rushed to see you the moment she returned from her trip?”

The woman, who unceremoniously barged in, stopped before Lysandra, resting her arms on her hips.

She stared at the Princess from under her long eyelashes, her vibrant green irises, contrasting with her dark skin, seemed to glow with authority.

The feeling was emphasized further by the exquisite dress draped over her alluring, curvy frame.

Her dark hair was tied into fine braids, gathered atop her head in a loose bun, and decorated with a golden laurel pin.

Lysandra knew that pin very well. She was the one to gift it after all.

The moment their eyes met, a wide grin bloomed on the Princess’ face. “Zahra! What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming back for another three months!” she exclaimed, rushing to her friend’s side and pulling her into a hug.

“Oh, well… Lucetta had much less to offer than I initially thought.” Zahra sighed.

Lysandra released her friend from her embrace. “And here I thought you simply started missing me.”

Zahra looked at her in disbelief. “Darling, would I come here so quickly if I didn’t?” she asked, pointing at herself. “Look, I didn’t even have time to change. I’m still in my travel clothes.”

Lysandra raised her eyebrow, then scrutinized her friend from the gilded sandals on her feet to the pin in her hair. Her gaze lingered specifically on the green and gold dress. “You are the only person I know that travels in nabbian silk…”

Silk from Nabbo, also known as ‘a veil of morning clouds,’ was famous across the world for its incredible softness and almost imperceivable weight. Each thread building it was woven by seamstresses, specifically trained for the task, who dedicated their whole lives to mastering this skill.

Due to its unique nature and the difficulty of manufacturing, one roll of the nabbian silk could fund an army of ten thousand. Trained and fully equipped.

Zahra nonchalantly brushed the hair off her shoulder. “Lysandra, Darling. Once you travel enough, you’ll understand that you can’t put a price tag on comfort.”

The Princess giggled, thinking that this was exactly the thing she expected to hear. She invited Zahra to sit down and brought two cups of wine to share during their chat.

“So how was the trip? Any thrilling adventures? Enlightening encounters?” Lysandra lowered her voice to a teasing purr. “Scandalous romances?”

“Don’t even get me started,” Zahra scoffed. “I thought Lucetta was supposed to be the capital of passion and art. The cradle of romance. The epicenter of intellectualism!” she recounted, becoming more animated with each epithet.

“Aelius named the place after the love of his life, for gods’ sake!” Zahra continued her tirade. “Imagine my disappointment when I realized that the only thing it can be the capital of is geriatrics and poor wine!” Lysandra couldn’t help but giggle, watching her friend so agitated. “Was it really that bad?”

Zahra looked her dead in the eye. “The only poet I met was writing naughty rhymes on the wall of the bathhouse.”

As she finished talking, the woman took a long sip from her cup. The refreshing fruity flavor with a hint of alcohol spread on her tongue, giving a gentle reminder that the nightmare was over, which made her shoulders relax as she sank deeper into the sofa.

“But enough about my pitiful fiasco of a trip,” Zahra waved her hand and picked a book from the table. “Alchemical benefits of transmutation magic. Alteration spells for advanced poison crafting.” She shot a glance at Lysandra. “Have you finally decided to become an orphan, or did Therion say one dry joke too many?”

“Unfortunately, it’s something more complicated,” the Princess sighed.

For the next quarter, Lysandra was explaining the circumstances around the drug and her findings. Her story conveniently omitted her involvement with Mormo.

As the Princess finished the explanation, she saw Zahra suddenly get up. “Alright. Let’s go.”

“Go where?” Lysandra looked at her friend, puzzled.

“Show me that drug. I’ll take a look at it.”

Seeing that the Princess was still. Zahra rolled her eyes and put her arms on her hips. “What? Don’t tell me you have forgotten that your friend is not only beautiful and smart, but also the best healer on the Peninsula?”

The Merea family had a very high status in the Empire. It was not only one of the oldest houses in the country, but also one with a lineage of outstanding healers and mystics, capable of using one of the rarest forms of magic—the phytolomancy.

Most notably used by the Keepers of Sacred Gardens in Zomiria, phytolomancy allowed its users to control the flora.

Phytolomancy could be used for both healing and combat, and it was especially sought after in alchemy.

Lysandra, of course, knew that very well. She had known Zahra since childhood and even picked up alchemy under her guidance.

The reason she didn’t think about asking Zahra for help was that she didn’t want to get her involved in something dangerous, and simply because, for the past few months, Zahra had been traveling around the continent.

Having her return at this moment, when Lysandra was facing a major setback, felt like a divine intervention.

The Princess finally beamed a beautiful smile and led Zahra to her laboratory.

***

A bright green light slowly faded, revealing the silvery powder stored in a glass bottle.

Zahra shook the bottle, narrowing her eyes. “You were right. It was altered with magic, but it wasn’t transmutation,” she said.

“If not transmutation, then what?” Lysandra walked over to the alchemy table and glanced at the bottle. “Some kind of geomancy?”

“No,” Zahra said, her expression turning serious. “It was altered with dark magic.”

Lysandra felt a cold shiver running down her spine. “Are you sure?”

“Absolutely sure. I can’t tell what exactly was done to it, but the traces of the Darkness are impossible to miss.”

The Princess ran her fingers through her loose hair and started pacing around the room. “If dark magic was involved, then standard medication won’t work. There might not even be a cure in the first place.”

“From what you told me and judging by the magical traces in the sample, the drug may be mostly used as a carrier for whatever that abyssal abomination is inside,” Zahra said. “If that’s the case, then our only option is prevention.”

“That’s easier said than done. At this moment, the only areas affected are the poor neighborhoods. My father isn’t going to take action until the situation escalates to a point he can’t ignore anymore and Saria can’t cover all that ground on her own,” Lysandra brainstormed aloud.

“Once I’m back home, I’ll talk to my father to send some of our men to help.”

“Thank you. It would be a big help.”

“No need to thank me. This is what should be done.” Zahra sat in the opposite chair. “It would be good to have a sample of the infected blood. It can give us some clues as to what was done to the substance.”

Lysandra nodded. “I’ll tell Saria to bring it next time she goes on patrol.”

Zahra leaned back in her chair and observed the Princess in silence. “Now, forgive me for interrupting the doom and gloom vibe we have going right now, but it’s the third time I hear this name today.”

Curiosity flashed in her lush green eyes as she propped her chin on her hand. “Please, do enlighten me as to who this mysterious Saria is.”

At the mention of her lover’s name, Lysandra’s sour mood immediately lightened.

Her lips curled into a bashful smile, and a gleam of happiness appeared in her eyes. “She’s my… She’s someone special,” Lysandra said, unexpectedly shy.

Without a word, Zahra got up, took Lysandra’s hand, and then led her back to the Princess’ chambers. There she locked the door, grabbed another bottle of wine from the cupboard, and poured it generously into the cups.

Finally, she nestled herself comfortably on the sofa. “Alright. I’m ready,” she said, flashing a brilliant smile at Lysandra. “Who’s the woman who turned you into a love-struck puppy?”