6| Far From A Blessing

Later that day, Sylteena was then summoned into the Duke's office.

KNOCK! KNOCK!

"Come in", Lord George responded on the other side, permitting Sylteena to slowly push open the door and step in.

She immediately sighted both the Duke seated and the Duchess standing next to him.

Sylteena then went on her knees and bowed till her forehead touched the wooden floor. "Good evening, Your Graces".

Glaring down at her, Lady Genevieve was the first to speak. "Rise".

She slowly got up on her feet with her eyes glued to the floor.

George finally called, "Sylteena?"

"Yes, Your Grace?"

"Have you ever met the royal family?"

Sylteena's brows knitted. The royal family? She asked herself internally. "Just once, Your Grace. When I was still a child..." When he father was alive of course.

"And what about the princes?"

"I only recall attending a dinner ball they were present in when I was only seven. I have no history of direct interaction with any of the princes, Your Grace".

"Is that so?" Genevieve crooked a brow. "So how would you feel about the idea of marrying the first Prince?"

Sylteena's bones stiffened as her eyes slowly peeled wide to the words from the Duchess' mouth.

Taking a moment to rethink her question, Sylteena found her herself saying, "I... I beg your pardon, Your Grace..."

"You heard me perfectly", Her demeaning glare narrowed. "How do you feel about marry the first Prince?"

Sylteena couldn't still find the right thoughts to process a reasonable answer to such an absurd question. She blinked twice. "I... I do n- not know, Your Grace—"

"Well, now you will!" Lord George interrupted before tossing a folded sheet of paper at Sylteena's feet.

She stared at the paper with a crease formed above her brows. Her hand slowly stretched out to pick it — her brow quirked.

There was a royal seal on the letter.

She careful unfolded it.

"Read it out loud", George ordered.

Her eyes carefully trailed on each word.

"Dear Duke & Duchess of Elfedon,

Greetings of the hour, I assume this letter meets you to well.

In sense of urgency, I write to inform you that your youngest daughter, Lady Sylteena, is to be united in matrimony with Prince Anthony — a name that resonates with power and majesty. She is to grace the capital within two nights, as mandated by royal decree, to prepare for this momentous occasion.

I expect you to fully apprehend the honor and the grave responsibility that this union bears. The prosperity of our realm hinges upon her acceptance, and I emphasize that disobedience is not to be contemplated. Let this missive reinforce the grand opportunity that lies ahead and the weighty expectations that accompany it.

I anticipate no delay but immediate compliance with this royal command.

Signed, Queen Rebecca".

Even with each word leaving her own mouth, Slyteena couldn't believe what she was reading nor was her mind apprehending it.

Her bewildered gaze was fixed on the heavy weight in her grasp as her mind fogged in confusion.

"Congratulations, Sylteena", Genevieve's voice resonated, causing Sylteena to dare raise her eyes to meet her's; only to be stunned by the smirk imprinted on the Duchess' lips.

"You are chosen to be Werlerian's next princess".

A chill ran down Slyteena's spine.

• • •

Just moments afters receiving the second most lurid news since her father's death, Sylteena was immediately ordered to return to the guest chamber where a swam of maids were waiting to prepare her — she was to embark on her journey to the capital the next morning.

The next morning!?...

Within the moment of mused confusion, Sylteena watched as the maids gathered her a wardrobe of entirely new attires of elite fabrics and designs — nothing near the rags she was accustomed to wearing within the mansion.

Her brown skin, once dry and blemished, was now exfoliated and moisturized to glimmer and glow after hours of a water bath therapy and oiling.

Her blonde hair, tangled and stenched, was now silk and greased, glimmering with each wave as her hair was plaited into a twin braid and fixed with flower pins.

From her feet to head, her body was cleansed and softened, before suited into the thick velvet fabric of the eye-catching dress that swept the ground she walked on, adorned with golden jewelries and gems that glittered on her malnourished collar bone; made to look aesthetic.

Sylteena's lips were unable to utter a word all through.

Finally after the long torturous moments of complete makeover, Sylteena was left solemnly within the lavish guest room lit by the candle chandelier above — a room entirely opposite of the storage basement she was forced to sleep in for the past years — A standard even the other servants had not fallen too.

Sylteena remained seated at the foot of the enormous bed and her body still too stiffened to relax in such conducive conditions.

Even after the maids returned with a trolley to delicacies that was claimed to be her dinner, Sylteena, just still and blank, ignored the appetizing temptation set next to her.

Meals she had far forgotten how they'd tasted...

Unable to accept anything that were being showered unto her within the last few hours, Sylteena remained stale and numb in the same position as she continued to watch the dull night sky through the open floor-to-ceiling window.

"My Lady?"

Her head snap over her shoulder, having her tensed muscles immediately relax at the sight of only person in the mansion that looked at her as a living being.

"Philip!"

Philip — the Duke's adviser, and her late father's friend, stood at the door with a warm smile drawn across his lips. He bowed, "Good evening, My Lady—"

Sylteena immediately jerked from the bed and raced to him, throwing her arms around him as she buried her face into his chest.

"You finally came back!" She muffled into the fabric of his coat, tightening her grip around him. "I thought you left me..."

Philip only continued to smile, taking a moment to observe the precious girl he had missed throughout his three weeks away on an official business.

He grimaced.

Only the heavens knew the kind of things the young girl had to go through in his absence — without his subtle protection from the savages of the Duke's family.

He raised his hand gently stroke her back, "I could never leave you, My Lady". He could feel the outline of her bones despite the doubled fabric of the gallant dress she wore. "Until my last breath as your loyal servant, was a silent promise I made to your father, My Lady".

Sylteena couldn't bring herself to let go of Philip just yet, consumed by the fear that he might disappear if she did... Afraid that the monsters she slaved for would try to steal the only person left in her miserable life as a ray of hope.

She clung tighter.

Despite the abrupt change of status, Philip was the only person in the whole land that referred to Sylteena with the same respect she had earned as a child. No matter what circumstances she crumbled to or dread her reputation suffered — Philip's loyalty was unwavering.

Slyteena suddenly felt Philip's hands rest on her shoulders, pulling back to look down at her face with gentle eyes that soaked with sympathy.

"My Lady?"

Sylteena gingerly raised her gaze; her eyes blurred with tears and dilated in misery.

Philip's smile dropped, "I heard the news—"

"They want to get rid of me, Philip!" A tear slipped from the corner of her eyes.

He grimaced, "My Lady... I honestly am short of words to describe my bewilderment to the proposal, but all these were direct orders of the que—"

"Why is she doing this to me, then!?!" Her voice raised. "Why does Her Majesty want to punish me?! Of all maidens in the land!! All of them!!! What did I ever do to deserve this!?!"

Her voice, fueled with pain and anger, cracked with each word as her fingers shivered.

"My Lady", he gently rubbed her arms, "Maybe this is a blessing in disguise. A way the Heavens have chosen to save you from these—"

"There is no blessing in this world that these devils would let fall into my lap on a golden plater!"

Sylteena's fists clinched with gritting teeth, "If these monsters could quietly accept such an order without breaking a single pillar! Or even try to exterminate me before I can oblige... Then there is no way near hell that it is a blessing!"

Philip could only respond in silence, unable to find the proper counter for her carefully logical reasoning; battling within himself to not ignore the cunningness of the whole situation itself.

Sylteena trapped her lips between her teeth as tears streamed down her face. "They want to get rid of me..." A painful chuckle escaped her sore throat. "... Finally—"

"Do not say that, My Lady!"

She only continued to smile bitterly to the burning pain in her chest matching the physical bruises that blemished her skin underneath. Her cheeks glittered with the trail of tears.

A moment of tensed silence drew between the two before Sylteena finally took in a deep breath to then call, "Philip?"

"Yes, My Lady?" He continued watched her keenly.

"I need you to tell me everything..."

His brows knitted as she added, "Everything there is to know about the first Prince", she slowly raised her head. "I need every single detail of Prince Anthony..."

Philip gulped.