18 Isolde

The room is silent. No one utters a sound. If one looks carefully at the faces of the women under the stage, one can spot a trace of fear and anxiety mixed with the original awe.

The teachers sitting in their seats all are staring down the small marguerite on the stage.

One man in particular looks at her with great interest. His scholarly appearance makes him especially intimidating as he gazes at her from behind his folding fan. His dark hair is braided in a complicated Celtic braid behind him, which makes Marguerite extremely curious.

With Edward's reminder, she goes down the steps once more while anxiety rocks her entire soul. Before she can regain her seat, one girl stops her in her way.

"I think it be best for you to leave for the time being."

Looking behind her, the palace guards and her maids are standing as if awaiting for her. The maids all have complicated expressions, a mixture of fear and confusion, as well as slight disgust.

Her heart clenches as she walks towards them with her head lowered. She feels incredibly stupid, Edward clearly warned her multiple times, yet she didn't listen.

"Don't worry, Alphonse is going to summon you. You have a background that proves that you aren't a spy. As long as you make up a good story, you can ask him to vouch for you so rumours don't spread."

Instead of feeling relieved, Marguerite gets even more anxious. She has always been a bad liar.

Soon, she reaches her chambers and changes her clothes with the help of her maids. Then she sees that her maids are all taken away by rough men.

"They will undergo interrogation. Miss can wait here for now."

Soon, unfamiliar maids come to prepare refreshments for her. They tend to her until the time she has to be interrogated as well.

Marguerite feels uncomfortable as she had gotten used to her previous maids. She has very thin skin and is having a hard time remaining calm facing the intense stares of the servants and even the guards. She isn't sure why everyone is suddenly so hostile towards her.

"They think you're a child spy."

At the word, Marguerite sports a face of confusion and whispers quietly a question asking the clarification of the word 'child spy'.

"Sometimes, countries with malicious intentions will send a baby to a wealthy family and replace a new-born with it. Then they will maintain contact with the child until adulthood and promise various benefits. These children are extremely hard to guard against. Most of them steal information or carry out tasks like assassination or smuggling. If a child spy is discovered, they get executed immediately, which gives them no way out. So they are forced to obey the ones that sent them away until they can go back to their biological parents."

"That's horrible!"

Marguerite has never heard of such a weird practice in her life, so she is shocked. She subconsciously reaches to rub her neck as she wonders whether she will be executed or not.

After what feels like an eternity, she is finally given a summon, but contrary to everyone's expectations, the summon is from the emperor himself instead of the head of court matters.

Almost bursting into tears, Marguerite walks towards the emperor's royal sitting room as if death is standing at the end of the corridor with his scythe in hand.

The first thing that strikes her as she walks inside the room is the electrifying hazel eyes that bore into hers almost instantaneously.

She isn't sure how or when but she finds herself kneeling yelling "may the emperor live a thousand years" with the rest of the crowd by the time she regains her senses.

The man seated on the leather chair glances at the Eunuch standing humbly behind him. The Eunuch reacts quickly by ordering everyone to leave, then he himself exits. Marguerite is piqued by the mannerism of everyone, to the point of finally distracting herself from her anxiety. She watches as they stay half-bent with their right hand to their chest, all the while walking backwards until they reach the door where a servant opens it before bowing and exiting as well. All of this is done swiftly and perfectly as if it was practiced thousands of times in the past.

The deep voice of the man seated in front of her calls her back to her dreadful reality as she looks up into the eyes of the man. His eyes remain cold and sharp as he orders her to rise.

She stands up clumsily and almost steps onto her long dress. Blushing deeply, she tries to cover it up by smoothing out the wrinkles on the fabric, but it only makes her look even more unsightly.

"Sit."

She obeys and finds a small wooden chair to sit on right in front of the ruler. The chair is made especially so that she will be in a lower position from the emperor, making him look down on her the entire time.

"What is your name?"

His cold voice asks without any ripples. Marguerite almost answers with her own given name until Edward thankfully reminds her of her situation.

"Your name is Arthmael."

"My name is Arthmael."

The king shifts his sight from her to Edward perched on her shoulder.

"I'm asking for your real name. Tell your little thing to remain silent until I say otherwise."

A feeling as if a resounding explosion occurs inside her heart. The sudden shock feels so sudden that she wants to puke. Fear enshrouds her as she starts to tremble ever-so-slightly.

Marguerite can't help but look up into the eyes of the man, something that is extremely taboo, but that she has been doing unconsciously for a while now.

Edward is a little surprised at first, but then calms down and keeps shut. Marguerite is anxious to know what he is thinking and what she should do from here on.

The continued silence allows her to calm down somewhat enough to think and quickly realize that she has to fend for herself at the moment.

"I..."

The eyes of the king don't leave her figure as she almost starts to tear up from the anxiety that chokes her.

"I'm a very patient man. You have 5 seconds left."

The sudden voice startles her and she cowers slightly. She feels extremely pathetic and weak. Why can't she remain composed like Edward?

"M-my name is- is- M- Marg- Marg- Marguerite."

As if this single sentence took her entire day's energy to spit out, she starts to sweat and breathe harshly. The oxygen around her seems to be running thinner and thinner as she starts to take heavier and heavier breaths. Her chest starts to hurt and tears begin streaming down her face.

"Tsk."

She can't hear anything around her, she feels deaf. Her body curls up on the chair as she starts to concentrate on her lungs to try and calm down. She has never felt this way before, it's the first time.

As the minutes pass the emperor doesn't leave or call for anyone, he simply stares at the small girl curled up on the wooden chair. When he feels that she is suitably calmer, he speaks again.

"If you are scared of the implications of being a spy, then rest assured that no one would ever believe that you are capable of undertaking such a role."

A flash of killing intent lights his pupils as he finishes that sentence.

Marguerite takes a while before realizing that the man is trying to reassure her. She indeed feels much better knowing that she won't die under his order. At least not yet.

"Now, Marguerite was it? From now on, your name is Isolde. You are a foreign tribute from the Keltc empire given to me through a foster family introduction. As for Edward, you will not try to find him. If I suspect that you have attempted to search for him, I will have you executed immediately."

Marguerite only continues to hide her face in her knees. Bitterness filling her heart, she feels that everything is unfair. Yet there's nothing she can do about it, she just has to survive.

Celtic braid:

https://i.pinimg.com/736x/8f/7e/b3/8f7eb3dd5a42e5c9a931c610be5364f4--school-hairstyles-fun-hairstyles.jpg