16| 'Loving' In-laws I

On reaching the galavant entrance of the Welerian palace, the silver-edged carriages pulled to a halt at the steps of the open castle doors.

The first person to step out was none other than the crowned prince, Prince Anthony, escorted by a pair of guards as he strode into the building without even a thought to look behind.

Sylteena followed after. With her head faced down and her hands held together to portray a submissive demeanor, she treaded carefully to the door as she watched the guards ignore her presence as she proceeded forward.

"Your Highness?"

Her shoulders stiffened to a voice at her side, forcing her gaze to meet the maid standing feet away from her.

With her brows knitted into a deep scowl, the maid gauged Sylteena from head to toe with her eyes leeching pure distaste.

From her years of experience as a lowly servant to the Pearson family, Sylteena knew more than enough that such an act was beyond disrespectful and insulting to any person of noble standing; but of course, no one in the entire castle, from servant to royalty, viewed her as a being of any worth despite the crowned titled forced upon her.

Their discrimination was glaringly clear with each sight of cringe and grimace of disgust they had on their faces every time their gazes scrutinized her, without an ounce of respect as they looked her in the eyes.

Sylteena only stood silently as the maid then spoke. "Her Majesty awaits your presence in the tea room... Immediately."

Before Slyteena's head could nod, the maid turned with a scoff, "Follow me," she paced away in hurried steps.

Sylteena's shoulders slumped as she took a moment before raising her head to walk in the direction of the maid, who led her through the hallway and up to the door of the tea room.

The maid then opened the door before dropping her head to a bow. "Your Majesty, Her Highness."

Sylteena's eyes remained glued to the tiled floor, statically lowering her head.

"My Lady!?"

Sylteena's eyes widened to the familiar voice that called that particular title. She gingerly raised her head, her lips gaping in surprise at the person now standing opposite the queen's seat.

Philip's brown pupils were dilated with dark circles margining his eyes as a wide smile tugged the edges of his lips. "My Lady..." He called once more in a bitter pained tone.

Sylteena felt a wave of warmth and relief drench her body and soul just at the sight of him as her feet picked up on their own, racing towards him.

Sylteena threw herself at him as her arms wrapped around him tightly, burying her face in his chest. She immediately broke into tears from the warmth of his arms trapping her.

Philip then brushed his fingers through her hair, "It's okay, My Lady. I am here now... And I am just glad you're safe."

Still seated with crossed legs on the velvet cushion, Her Majesty, Queen Rebecca, gently stirred the content of her cup before placing aside her cutlery and taking a sit.

She then cleared her throat to seize their attention, forcing Sylteena to let go and turn and face her before bowing — she immediately wiped the tears on her cheek. "Forgive my insolence, Your Majesty..."

Rebecca waved a dismissive hand. "I have no need for your friable apologies," her eyes narrowed. "Just hear this and hear this once. The next time you have the audacity to run away from this palace, I will make sure there is none of you left to be found and brought back."

A chill prickled down Sylteena's spine as her eyes widened. Run away?... She was unable to blink. That was in no way near the truth! She didn't try to run away! She was adducted and restrained like an animal to a post, left in the middle of nowhere at the mercy of the merciless fate of forest beasts.

A tight lump lodged in the throat as she tried to speak. She couldn't just stay silent, the thought echoed... She couldn't just let them look at her as an unappreciative outcast after accepting her into the royal household...

Her lips gapped, "Your Majes—"

Rebecca immediately stood up from her seat, dusting her fingers as her eyes gauged Sylteena one last time. "You are already enough mud to our family's lineage..." Her green eye slitted, "Try not to tarnish our name just as much."

And without a moment of consideration, Queen Rebecca turned to make her way out of the tea room, escorted by the standing guards and maids as the door was pulled shut.

Sylteena remained stagnant on the spot, staring vaguely at the seat the queen rose from.

With her hands left hung on her sides, her fingers clutched into the fabric of her dress as her lips trapped between her teeth.

Philip, who stood behind her, took notice of her clenched fists as his brows furrowed into a grimace.

He carefully stretched out to gently grasp her shoulder. "My Lady?..." He called in a tamed voice. "Please, pay no mind to whatever they—"

"I almost died."

A sensation similar to that of cold water being dumped on his being caused Philip to still at her words with wide eyes. His lips were agape.

Sylteena's mismatched eyes — lined with eye sacs and puffed from tears — remained hollow and empty as she watched the space before her.

"I would have died. I would have never been found. I would have never returned..." She slowly turned to face the petrified face of her one and only friend and family.

"... So why did I make it out alive?..." Despite the redness of her eyes, a new trail of tears welled.

Philip's expression broke deeper as his arms immediately wounded Sylteena's slender body.

"My Lady! Please!" He pressed her against his chest, his arms forging a protective warmth around her cold body as he squeezed tighter. "Please do not speak such cursed words upon yourself! Please!"

He gently stroked her head, feeling the wetness spread over his shirt as her fists clenched into the fabric of his coat. He could feel the painful shards of his own heart pierce his chest.

He continued to stroke her blonde strands as her tears poured out and loud sobs broke from her lips.

"It's okay, My Lady," he tried to comfort her as she broke down even further, clinging unto him for stability as her tears poured to her heart's content.

"Let it all out, My Lady... It's good for the heart."

After the heart-shredding moments of bitter tears, Sylteena finally calmed her broken self, with her head still resting on Philips's chest, still clung to his sleeves.

Philip grimaced. "My Lady?"

He then noticed she remained still and silent, with her shoulders now stiff. Her head remained faced down.

He crooked a brow, stepping back carefully to take a glimpse of her face. "Do you feel better now, My Lady?"

The long strands of her blonde hair shrouded her face before she finally took in a deep breath, swiping the traces of tears off her cheeks.

"I have an assignment for you, Philip."

A deeper crease formed above his brows. "And what would that be, if I may?"

"I need you to get me one of my father's books..." She raised her head, her eyes still tainted red. "The Chronicles of Beasts."

His brows quirked.