Chapter Five

It was settled. My life was ruined. I would live out my last days as an outcast of society, hated as the girl who yelled at Duchess Faretra’s precious daughter. The girl who threw away her one chance at becoming Aria’s renowned columnist. Discarded by the royal house of Aria, just like her mother. Let the legacy of the Banished Brackenburys live on.

I moved quickly through the corridors of the castle, avoiding any hall that was occupied. My breath came in short, panicked gasps as air circulated through my lungs. What would happen to me? I would lose my job, not to mention my reputation. Everyone in Aria would hate me, and no one would hire me. I would have to move. Move to Nor or Balua. But what if my foul reputation spread there? What if I had to move off the continent of Etheia and travel to the frigid northern countries? Were they even populated?

This was unfair. Why did I have to go through this? Why had fate done this to me? I had never asked to tutor Odelia’s impudent daughter, so why me?

“This is absolutely ,” I hissed to myself as I stomped down a random corridor, disregarding my internal compass. My life was going to be ruined because of one trite action. It didn’t matter if I apologized, because Odelia would ruin me anyway! Royals were just overpowered aristocrats who only thought of themselves. As I turned a corner, I was absolutely certain of one thing: I would never, tutor in this castle again.

“Oof!”

I stumbled into a woman coming around the corner. We both caught our balance, and she turned to me worriedly. “Oh, goodness,” she said, placing a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry. Are you alright?”

“Sorry. I’m fine,” I told her and kept walking, not wanting to get into a lengthy conversation about how my face was probably beet red from anger.

The woman stopped me before I could swerve around her. “Wait…” Her deep green eyes studied me with an odd curiosity. Judging from her plain maroon dress and lack of decoration, I assumed that the middle-aged woman was a servant. Although her dark blonde hair was pulled into a simple bun, there was something about her that struck me as beautiful.

“Could you let me go? I’m in a hurry.” Clarice was undoubtedly telling Odelia all about my anger management problems now. I needed to get out of the castle—or hide somewhere, for that matter.

The woman in front of me smiled. It was a sad, broken smile that showed the stress of time on her features. “That’s right… You can’t possibly be Helena…”

A thin, fragile thread snapped at that moment. I was sick of hearing “Helena.” Sick of the pain it caused whenever someone spoke my mother’s name. “For once,” I said, feeling my voice rising, “could you people talking about my mother? Every time I meet someone, it’s always: ‘Helena? Impossible!’ I’m tired of it! You realize she passed away two years ago, right?”

The woman’s smile faded and she nodded. “You must be her daughter.” Her eyes took a far-off look, traveling somewhere beyond my comprehension. “Helena was a good woman. A good mother… A good tutor.”

“Until the Royals tossed her to the side like she was trash.” An unintentional bitter tone overtook my voice. “My mother didn’t do anything wrong in the first place.” The stress was beginning to be too much for me. At this rate, I was going to start yelling at this woman.

She gave me a firm look; her eyes narrowed, her brows constricted. “You are wrong in that respect. Although she didn’t commit a serious crime, her actions provoked a dangerous situation. I regret to this day that I wasn’t able to save her position, Lannie,” she said, “but your mother understood, despite everything.”

“Who are you to say that you regret it?” I asked, clenching my fists. How could she “save” my mother's job? Servants did not hold positions of power. “And how do you know my name? How did you know my mother?”

The sound of voracious footfalls thundered down the hall, interrupting the answer she was about to give. I turned to see a desperate messenger speeding his way towards us.

“Your Majesty!”

Low and behold, the messenger stopped directly in front of the woman. “Queen Philippa…” His words came in deep gasps as he presented her with a withered scroll. It was secured with a red embossed seal. “Message…from the king. He’s having difficulty…with negotiations in Nor. There’s been another earthquake.”

“Very well. Thank you for telling me, Leone.”

I stared, dumbfounded, as the woman took the scroll and opened it. After reading it, she gave the scroll back to Leone and dismissed him. She looked at me and smiled pleasantly. “I’m sorry about that.”

This woman was Philippa De Luca, the Queen of Aria.

It was too much weight for my strained mind to bear. I was falling backward before I knew it, and I didn’t feel my body hit the hardwood flooring because I was already unconscious.

                                                ————————

“Ms. Brackenbury!”

A concerned voice brought me back to reality, and I awoke with a start. I was on a bed of silk sheets that were far too comfortable to be my own bed. A blurry figure stood over me, but I couldn’t discern the face. What had happened? All I remembered was that I argued with a woman who—

The queen! I bolted upright, but I cried out as blinding pain flooded my head.

The figure pushed me back down on the pillow and said, “Don’t get too excited there, Ms. Brackenbury.”

Who called me that anymore? “Don’t call me that, idiot,” I moaned through the pain to the blurry face. “My name’s Lannie.”

The figure laughed, and a feeling of dread overcame me. I finally realized who I was talking to.

“Okay, Lannie.” Prince Titus' face became clear as he gave me a cheeky grin.

I groaned. “Dare I ask what happened?”

“I don’t know. Do you?”

Sighing, I sat up carefully and looked around. I was in a small room with a vanity, chest, and seating area. An extravagant room, but plain in comparison to the rest of the castle. I rubbed my head gently; the pain had subsided to a dull throbbing. “Seriously, what happened?”

Titus leaned back in the chair next to my bed, setting his booted feet on the rim of the wooden frame. As he rolled the long sleeves of his tunic to his elbows, I noted that he possessed several thin scars around his wrists. “You fainted when you were talking to my mother,” he said. “I’m sorry. I had just entered the hall, but I couldn’t catch you before you slammed on the floor. But I carried you here, if that helps.”

I snorted. “Aren’t all princes supposed to catch damsels in distress? I’m deeply offended that you didn’t catch me, Titus. Really.”

He smirked. “Well, I think fainting far surpasses the sin of not catching you. Honestly, I know my mother can be frightening, but fainting in front of her and getting serious head trauma takes it to a whole new level.”