The Value of Cunning
Emperor Edward Solomon strode into the opulent ballroom, the epitome of a regal monarch. His golden locks gleamed under the enchantments adorning his crown, casting a celestial aura. His white coat boasted intricate golden embroidery that seemed to summon constellations as he moved.
The courtiers gazed in admiration, captivated by his magnetic presence. Their devotion to him was palpable, treating him as if he were divine. To them, he embodied the ideal Emperor, a man to be feared and revered.
But amidst this sea of adulation, Marie Fletcher remained aloof, her attention elsewhere.
She donned an unassuming powder blue gown, gracefully draping over her form, with a subtle moonflower enchantment tracing the gown's side. The embroidery unfurled as the moon rose, too slowly for anyone but the most observant spectator to notice. Her simple dress paled in comparison to the extravagant attire of the court. Marie's peers attended revelries dressed in gowns that mimicked motifs like fluffy swirling clouds or flames licking along their hems.
As much as she secretly appreciated the illusions, gaudy as they were, Marie was Arveldian at heart. She eschewed the hedonistic pleasures that consumed the Viselians. In her opinion, they had become so enamored with magic's excesses that they had forgotten its innate wonder. Best not to become like them.
Besides, wearing heavily enchanted clothing gave her a headache. The pressure of her pent-up mana only grew stronger in close proximity to such things.
In truth, she would have skipped the Summer Solstice Gala altogether had she not awaited Edward's half-brother, Prince Ezra, who bore vital information for her cause.
Marie sipped on violet sparkling wine as she waited impatiently for the second prince's arrival, her thoughts turning to his tardiness.
"Where is that man?"
Stepping away from the crowded edges of the ballroom, she approached an indoor fountain beside the balcony. It was adorned with enchantments portraying mermaids playfully darting in and out of the water, charming attendees with shy waves.
She held back a delighted chuckle as she watched the illusions. The mana pent up inside her stirred, suppressed by the subtle iron charm wrapped around her wrist. In a way, it felt like a group of butterflies rioting inside her body, trying desperately to break out of a glass cage.
One of the mermaids extended a playful hand toward Marie, and without thinking, she reciprocated. Her hand passed through the illusion, leaving her grasping at thin air before it giggled and vanished beneath the water's surface.
"I see nothing amusing in those illusions. Only fools are entertained by a mere trick," a voice sneered suddenly from behind Marie.
Startled, she turned around to confront the speaker, only to find the emperor before her. His gaze was cold but mildly amused.
"Perhaps I can offer better entertainment," he suggested with a cunning smile that seemed more wolflike than human.
She discreetly touched her wrist to be sure the mana concealment charm was still secure and keeping her mana in check. The last thing she needed was to have a mana leak in front of him.
Her heart raced as she realized the Emperor of Viselis had just called her a fool. Marie wondered briefly what the hell she had done wrong to attract his attention.
Though her first impulse was to respond with a scathing remark, she had to reign in her pride and remind herself that he was right to think her a fool because it was the image she purposefully portrayed. It only bothered her that he managed to fault in her silent enjoyment of magic, during a moment where she was being entirely herself.
Suppressing her disdain, Marie greeted him with a small, somewhat clumsy curtsy—an excessive gesture among the Viselian court, but an Arveldian tradition she clung to.
"It's an honor, Your Majesty," She forced a polite, strained smile to maintain the appearance of reverence toward authority.
She could tell from the way the emperor regarded her that her curtsy was insufficient, as if his very presence was a gift to her. Marie continued regardless.
"My father taught me to appreciate all forms of magic," she explained. "Illusions may be mere tricks, but wars have been won through deception."
"Some wars are won with trickery, and others with power," Edward replied, his tone chillingly authoritative. "Which type of victory would you prefer, Lady Marie?"
There was a glint in his eyes that indicated he was challenging her, probing for the intelligence that lurked just beneath her fragile facade.
"History is filled with tales of cunning underdogs prevailing," she asserted. "Viselis itself emerged victorious against a more powerful adversary at its inception. Ten thousand soldiers triumphed over one hundred thousand, aided by mages projecting illusions that confounded the Favrian Empire- an empire that no longer exists thanks, in part, to that victory. What would you call that if not cunning?"
For just a moment, Marie felt gratified when Edward returned her history lesson with silence. At least until she remembered that it was unwise to find comfort in the emperor's silence.
She inwardly regretted her audacity, but the words had already escaped her lips. Luckily, he needed the support of her father, General Antoine Fletcher. Edward couldn't attack her indiscriminately, but this man was always creative in his punishments.
Marie's words were like poison to the emperor. His face reddened, and anger flashed in his golden eyes. He appeared ready to retaliate, but something stayed his hand. He maintained his restraint, and Marie sensed it was not out of kindness.
"You are correct," he conceded with a touch of malice. "We did secure our victory through trickery."
"Your Majesty, you are most gracious to acknowledge it," she replied, forcing another polite smile. "Perhaps you value cunning more than you let on?"
"I do value cunning, my lady," He said in a cool tone. "But there is one thing I value more..."
The emperor took a few small steps closer to her. "Power."
He glared down at her, his eyes burning into hers. Marie flinched as he reached out one hand and caressed a single loose strand of her mousy brown hair.
"I am the most powerful man in the world. I have an entire empire at my bidding, hordes of people who would do anything I asked without a second thought. Tell me, Marie Fletcher… what do you have?"
Her lips pressed into a hard line when he tried to flaunt his power over her. Perhaps she had shown her hand a little too much. It would be best for her to forget her pride and concede herself.
"I have nothing but my father's title," she acquiesced. "I should be grateful for your attention, Your Majesty."
It was then that she noticed Prince Ezra, who must have just arrived, in the corner of the room, looking on edge. He was waiting for her near their designated rendezvous by the entrance, but there she was stuck in a tense conversation with the most dangerous person in the room. She silently cursed him once again for his tardiness.
As if he noticed Marie's attention diverted away from him, Edward's grip tightened on her hair. He looked as if he felt pleasure at how easily she started to crumble.
"Oh, but perhaps you do have something," Edward spoke softly, but there was cruelty in his voice. "Perhaps you truly are a master of cunning and ambition."
Her facade cracked, revealing a hint of fear, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. Marie tried to maintain her composure, refusing to flinch at the increasing intensity of his gaze.
She noticed the amount of people who looked on, especially the women who gave her jealous glares. Since they spoke quietly, the content of their conversation was ambiguous to the nosy courtiers. She was sure how it looked with his hand grasping her hair. This was exactly the attention she hoped to avoid.
"I would never be so bold as to have ambition," she said narrowing her eyes. She needed to get out of this before the entire room had eyes on them. "I'm sure you're aware of how this looks right now. We don't want people to talk."
Marie gasped as Edward reached forward and yanked further on her hair, pulling her closer to him. Some of the pins that kept delicate braids pinned around the back of her head popped out of her hair and scattered to the floor.
"Let them talk," he whispered into her ear, sending a shiver down her spine.
Then, he suddenly released her, and Marie stumbled forward. The room fell into silence.
Marie's eyes reflected a lingering sense of defiance as he withdrew.
"Your Majesty, I believe I have offended you," she said carefully. "I shall take my leave to avoid further displeasure."
"You are correct, Lady Marie," the emperor replied, his tone softer but no less sinister. "Leave now, before I am tempted to do something more than pull on your hair."
As she turned to depart, he delivered one final, chilling admonition. "Remember, you are only what I allow you to be."