Conspiration —1
At the capital city, people were whispering, both in agreement and dissent, their emotions ranging from anger to happiness.
Duke Alamos stood up, declaring, "Silence! Our majesty will be here soon; we should respect her for making us wait in the middle of this cold day!" he mockingly said, eliciting laughter from the crowd.
Ophelia and Damien stood amidst the mocking crowd, their brows furrowed deeply, their eyes blazing with intense determination.
A sly smile crept onto Damien's lips as he witnessed Ophelia pulling out her bow along with an arrow.
"Those bastards," she muttered, unleashing her fury with a single shot aimed at the duke's headpiece. Meanwhile, Damien ignited a fire around the wooden stage where the dukes were seated.
"W-what!? Fire!? Guards!!!" panicked the dukes.
Amidst the chaos, Ophelia uncovered her coat, revealing her identity as the rightful heiress of the Demesne Empire. The air crackled with intensity as she walked to the front, passing the fire, with Damien by her side.
"I am Ophelia Abellone, the rightful heiress of the Demesne Empire! I have arrived to claim my throne! I survived the fire, and nobody, NOBODY among these people, was looking for me!" she declared, pointing towards the dukes.
"I am Ophelia Abellone, the rightful heiress of the Demesne Empire! I have witnessed lies and hatred towards my family, yet, I shall not hold any grudges towards my people! Because I knew, these people conspired against me! Against you!" she shouted, silencing the crowds and the dukes alike.
"I am Ophelia Abellone, the rightful heiress of the Demesne Empire!"
After her announcement, Ophelia ordered everyone to go home, leaving the capital center. As the crowds dispersed, Ophelia fixed her sharp-cold stare upon the dukes.
- - - - -
As time ticked by, they entered the castle.
A grand chamber greeted them, with walls adorned with rich tapestries and large, arched windows allowing filtered natural light to illuminate the room.
A large round table took center stage, with rows of red chairs for the upper-classes to sit on. There, Ophelia gathered the dukes after her 'grand arrival' outside.
"Well, thank you for such a warm welcome, I must say. Great political decision to embarrass me," Ophelia remarked.
Clear.
"Are you all warm enough? Shall I order more heat?" she continued.
"Y-yes, my lady. It is warm enough…" stuttered one of the dukes.
The lady scanned the room, surrounded by 10 dukes. Three of them were the richest, most powerful dukes, alongside her family.
Alamos.
Deliante.
Hyme.
Ophelia, the sole Abellone, took her seat in the middle of the table, holding the most power as the duchess of the Demesne Empire.
"I shall begin with a hello, nice to see you all again. After all this time," Ophelia said sarcastically. "Then, I would like to discuss the corona—"
Alamos interrupted, "Forgive me, my lady. But, you should know some things."
"Yes, not that fast, young lady," Deliante added, standing up. "Surely, you are the rightful heiress, as part of the Abellone Family. But, we need to be clear that there are ancient rules," he continued.
"Indeed, Lord Deliante, by the ancient rules of our ancestors, you shall go through some trials before becoming the heiress of the Demesne," Duke Alamos said, agreeing with Lord Deliante.
Damien, sensing Ophelia's unease, stepped in. "On behalf of my lady, may I ask what the rules are, my lord?"
Deliante snorted, "A servant, speaking on behalf of his lady. Shame on you, Miss Ophelia," he said mockingly. "This is the problem when you have no parents. No one told you that a rule is a rule. Of course, you must obey it," Deliante added, blaming Ophelia for her predicament.
"Lord Deliante, show some respect for Ophelia," Duke Hyme, a very close friend to the Abellones stood up for her.
"But, Lord Deliante is right. A rule is a rule… This happens to be a legitimate reason we should halt your grand coronation," Alamos added.
Ophelia stood quietly, her hands folded upon her chest.
Damien glanced sharply towards Deliante, then took a deep breath and smiled. "It seems that my lady was not feeling well because of the cold weather"
Damien stepped forward, "I did not see you, my lord, yesterday at the meeting room in Abellone Duke House…Maybe, you should ask Duke Alamos what happened in the meeting" Damien suggested, glancing towards Duke Alamos, who recoiled, remembering their previous encounter.
Alamos glanced away, avoiding eye contact with the devil.
Damien smirked as he suddenly kneeled in front of the dukes, "Lord Deliante, for my lady's sake, please, tell me something I did not know, so I could work better for our wealth,"
Deliante cleared his throat, chin slightly raised, proudly smiling. "It is my pleasure to educate a stupid servant like you, young man, for the sake of our future queen," he said.
"As the ancient rule stated, a duchess shall marry a duke to become the queen. The duchess should work while producing an heir for the sake of the nation," Deliante explained.
Patriarchal.
"Surely, this sounds unfair for the duchess. But, no one wants a lady to rule the kingdom emotionally," the old man continued.
Damien gritted his teeth behind his smile. The kingdom was corrupted by old, patriarchal boomers who hoarded all the wealth for themselves.
"Then, what if the duchess had married another ordinary man before becoming the queen?"
Ophelia remained silent as the conversation unfolded. At that moment, Ophelia felt dizzy. The world spun around her, her vision blurred, and she began to lose her balance.
Then—
<bugh > Ophelia collapsed onto the ground.
Damien immediately rushed by her side.
"My lady! My lady!" He panicked.
All the men inside the room stood quiet at the scene. Some of them were only clearing throat, trying not to respond.
"Does anyone care to help here?!" Damien shouted as his eyes lit red.
"This is what would happen if the duchess is not ready to lead us all! Look at her, all weak only because of the winter" Deliante said.
"What? Weak?" Damien said in disbelief.
"Yes, a queen should not be an embarrassment for us all!"
Whispers could be heard around the room. Damien could feel his chest pounded really hard. Unsure of what did he felt there.
A storm of anger quietly raged underneath. Damien held Ophelia in his arm while trying to stand up. Then, he looked upon those men.
"What a disgrace…" He muttered as he walked away to take Ophelia home.
<tap, tap, tap> His footsteps echoed. <shriek, bam> Followed by a sound of a closing door.
Silence filled the air of the castle, while from afar, Damien could be seen walking towards the capital gate with unconscious Ophelia inside his arms. Closer, his brows furrowed. Damien could feel a slow-burning fire ignited inside him, remembering how the dukes tried to disgrace his lady.
Damien continued to walk, passing a quiet yet crowded street of the capital city. Bringing his lady back home.
- - - - -
Then, the night fell on the capital of the Demesne Empire. A place once filled with a bustling and vibrant thoroughfare has then become a shrouded quietness.
From the outside of the castle, chatters could be heard. In a dimly lit chamber, three figures huddled around a large, ornate table.
Lord Deliante with his whispered ambitions leaned forward, "It's time we take matters into our own hands" the man spoke.
"I am truly against this, Lord Deliante!" Lord Hyme replied with quite a high tone.
"Calm down, Hyme. It's not like we're plotting murder or anything" Alamos answered calmly.
"Come on, Hyme! Aren't you tired of becoming a shadow of the Abellones?" Deliante added.
Hyme furrowed his brow, asking "Why can't she choose who she wants to marry?"
"That woman is young, she needs guidance," Alamos replied.
"Indeed, Lord Alamos. That is why we should hold a grand suture competition for the lady. In that way, we could still control the political situation"
" you shall do whatever you like, lords. I will be on my way out of here" a frustration could be heard upon Lord Hyme's tone. Irritated by the dukes' behavior toward Ophelia.
He walked away out of the room, leaving both of them.
As soon as he got home…"Welcome home, father"
- - - - -
—to be continued