Empty promises

Post her mother's death, Mircea started showing strange behaviour. The Royal Physician said it was her brain and that there was nothing they could do to cure it. Faustina tried to help her however, after six months, the king announced her as the crown princess and she was swamped with classes.

Mircea was bad at making decisions. Whenever someone told her to decide on something, she would face great dilemmas. Her emotions conflicted with her believes, and everything went spiralling down when she had no one to talk to about her conflicting decisions.

She tried to make friends with Faustina and even tried to get close to her father, but nothing worked out. Lilith was there for her whenever it was probable. Even so, Mircea felt lonely. The sadness she felt from her mother's death stayed with her and transfigured her into an anxious self.

When Mircea was fourteen, she used to cry at every small thing that didn't go her way. People started laughing at her. They called her a weakling. A crying princess.

She began avoiding people at court after that, and her condition worsened. Mircea had lost enough weight to be called thin. At the age of fifteen, she had eye bags under her eyes.

Carsten thought he had enough of her and came knocking on the doors of her chamber, demanding to resume her sword practice that she had abandoned for more than a year. It took her some time but, she learned how to lock away her emotions and channelled her anger into the sword practice.

Mircea simply learned how to run away from her emotions.

That was enough, always had been till now. When another death had come knocking on the door of her heart. She had continued ignoring it, trying to fight it and bury it and never look back.

She hadn't cried until she saw Faustina.

Mircea knew she was walking on thin ice here, but as long as she wasn't falling, it was okay. She was okay. At least, she thought she was okay.

She can't crumble under her emotions now, after ten years of trying and succeeding in ignoring them. She can't allow the dilemma to eat her up. It was a simple yes or no. It was either marry or don't marry the witcher prince.

Once she decides if she wants to marry him or not, she would think about the way to execute it. For now, she had to tell the council about Faustina's warning. She still didn't know anything about who was behind all her father's death.

One day at a time, she told herself as she breathed into the night air while stepping out of the slammer. Athos was pacing in front of the guard whilst Urban and Leigh seemed to be conversing about something serious, probably if they wanted to go home back or stay here for whatever eternity they had as witches.

Witches lived longer than werewolves and humans. A lifespan of a normal witch was a hundred and fifty years. Although, it depended on the amount of power or in the magic they possessed. Urban looked two summers older, but Saints know how old he actually is than Mircea.

Athos rushes to Mircea's side the moment he sees her, "What did she say?"

 Mircea gazes to where Urban and Leigh are standing, whatever conversation they were having is paused. Leigh looks a little out of it.

"Nothing important. She kept it hidden as they were still negotiating the conditions of the alliance."

"So King Diomedes is mistaken about the whole thing?" Urban counters.

"No, not really. We… The Court of Slyve is weak right now it would be stupid to deny it or call him out."

"Is there anything else? What else has she kept from us?" Athos questions.

"She said we should prepare ourselves as our enemy is still unknown."

"Well, tell me specifically what did she say we should prepare ourselves for?" Mircea looks at Athos pointedly.

He is smart, she will give him that but at the same time, he cannot take a hint. This is neither the place nor the time to discuss things like this.

Mircea huffed, "I'm tired, Athos. Can we do this later?" She walked to her horse, nodding once at the half-breed guard.

Athos realized he was being pushy. He didn't say anything after that. The night has risen darker telling her that she had been in the slammer longer than she realized.

Mircea was starving, she decided that after reaching her chambers she would have her dinner and then lay in the hot fount made particularly for the royals.

Mircea bids goodbye to everyone as soon as they enter the palace grounds from the back gate. Her guards had been waiting for her in the stable to accompany her to her chambers.

Mircea is commanding one of her guards to call her lady-in-waiting so she could have her bath and have supper ready when she hears Urban's voice in the hallway.

"Hey!" Mircea turns her head towards his voice. It seems as if he had chased her. Mircea registered that his hair was disrupted. He ran his fingers through them, getting conscious of her stare. Mircea cleared her throat.

"Uh…Hey." Mircea tried not to stare at his curly black hair. The man had really good hair. Mircea mused to herself silently, now staring at his face.

"Are you okay?" He steps closer. Mircea wondered how they always end up like this, in the middle of some hallway.

"I meant to ask you earlier on our way back, but you seemed lost in your own thoughts." Urban continues acknowledging the guards standing behind her. Mircea looks back at them.

"Where is my lady-in-waiting?" Mircea asks both of them. Begrudgingly they both walk off in the opposite direction.

"Yes, I'm okay." She smiles at him. The smile does not reach her eyes and if Urban notices it, he chooses to not say anything. He nods at her slowly.

"I…I'm not good at politics but I can help you if you feel anxious or troubled. I'm, after all, a healer and before you say anything, I'm not a mental health healer however, I understand it just enough to help you here and there." His smile is full of warmth like he understands her inner conflicts.

Mircea doubts that is the case. He is simply being kind to her. She chuckles softly, his effort was a little cute "Thank you Urban, for saying this."

"I'm not kidding, Mircea."

"I know. I will come to you first when I need a psych physician. Maybe you can be a Royal Psych Physician in my court…if you decide to stay here." She twinkles, cracking him up.

"Maybe I will." Mircea's heart skips a beat at his response. The idea of Urban belonging in her court was…exciting.

"Yes, maybe." An awkward silence falls. Mircea realizes she had been flirting with him. Moreover, he initiated it. It was surreal how she forgot about important things like ruling Slyve when she was with him.

In front of him, she was not the new queen of Slyve. She was just Mircea.

She liked being that, being her and not anything else.

Urban looks behind her, Mircea turns around to find the guards had returned with a girl who was her age, likely her lady-in-waiting for the night.

Mircea glances back at Urban to tell him good night when he says, "Take care." She nods at him and without saying another word he retreats.

"Your Majesty." The girl bows down.

"Yes, get my supper and ready the hot fount." She orders the girl, opening the door to her chamber.

***

The season has changed early this year. Monsoon is already knocking on doors in the kingdom of Slyve. The topic is hot in the court however, Mircea bets it will be all forgotten when she tells them about the letter from King Diomedes and what are the hard conditions of the alliance.

Royal astrologers have said that storms are coming their way, they should warn the people of the kingdom. Mircea agrees with him. The clouds have already covered the sun.

Winds are playing even with the windows half-closed. It is Mircea's favourite season.

Storms are rather beautiful touches of melancholy that are full of life. They are not selfish. They pour out themselves wholly without discriminating life. Their roars are just as sad as any other living being as if it also has a life. Moreover, storms have comforted her more than any creature ever could.

Mircea gazes out to the wind howling. She can feel the anger bursting in the wind.

"You look cheery." Carsten steps beside her.

Mircea doesn't hide her shock as she glances up at him from her throne. "Fancy seeing you here, Chief."

"Oh, I should be the one saying that, your majesty." He chuckles.

Mircea scoffs at his non-harmful sardonic comment. "I was going to come looking for you. A queen cannot go without meeting her army's chief commander now, can she?"

"How have you been?" Carsten knew her better than anyone in the court. He had been there after her mother's death. Mircea's face tightens at his question, even so, she simply nods. "I'm fine. You said I look cheery."

"I very well know about your love for storms. The weather is indeed nice today." Carsten tried to change the topic; Mircea notices his effort and gazes out with him.

"I need to talk to you. There is something you should know and prepare for." Mircea says after a moment.

He glances back at Mircea and nods stiffly. She looks are him wondering why she hadn't felt that sadness after her father died.

Perhaps it was because she would feel it when Carsten dies. He had come to her rescue after her mother died. He taught her how to pick a sword and fight. Not her father. And perhaps Carsten was more of a father than her biological father could ever be.