8| Unhappy Bride

Early the next day, Sylteena was already aboard her next life-changing journey to the Werlerian capital.

Permanently leaving behind the building she once grew up in as a home before and after her father's death.

She was forced on her journey before sunrise. The only sense of closure she was given was a mere glance at the mansion's front before she was shoved into the carriage by her aunt and uncle — without letting her and Philip even have a glimpse of one another to bid goodbye.

Huddled in the corner of the carriage, Sylteena's lifeless eyes only continued to watch the passing trees of the lonely road they rode on.

With the stiff air suffocated by the presence of her aunt and uncle seated opposite her, Sylteena's presence submerged into the surroundings — being almost invisible amongst them as she hoped she could just as well disappear.

With the piercing silence drawing longer between them as relatives, Sylteena's mind began to recall everything Philip and her had discussed the previous night.

Disappointingly, the only valuable information Philip could offer her was one: Prince Antony was a blue-eyed sorcerer.

Which was basic knowledge — each eye color depicted the type of sorcery an individual hoarded. Blue eyes represented Psyche Sorcery, the ability to alter minds, thoughts, and emotions.

That and the news of all of Prince Antony's eleven ex-fiancees becoming disoriented and mute after the engagements were called off.

Although with that, the prince held the Noble image of an honorable leader and future king; his discipline and thrive for perfection were his notable characteristics known amongst the people of high status.

Sylteena's fingers dig into the fabric of her dress. What exactly did the prince do to them to have caused every woman arranged for him, to come out psychologically unwell?... And why?...

"Sylteena?" The curt tone of her aunt's voice recoiled her back to reality, forcing her to look up.

"Yes, Your Grace?"

"Once we reach the palace, you are aware that we expect nothing but your best behavior, yes?"

"Yes, Your Grace."

"And if Her Majesty or His Highness, ask you anything regarding your upbringing with us, you will tell them that your life with us is as splendid as our own daughter's."

Sylteena couldn't stop her eyes from slitting glares at the Duchess as she spat those words without an ounce of shame.

"Drop your eyes, you vermin!" The Duke, George, snapped, forcing her to abide. 

"Yes, Your Grace... I understand."

Genevieve gauged at her with a frown before letting out a scoff. "You are already showing your true colors even before you are crowned princess," she crossed her arms, "Don't be too pompous, child. Fate can still change within those palace walls."

Sylteena maintained her silence with her eyes studying the floor between them. But of course, she couldn't expect the Duchess or any of them from that household to truly grasp the maelstrom of emotions she was drowned in...

Hearing the Duchess let out another tut, Sylteena recomposed her mind as she felt their attention shift away from her.

She let out a soft sigh, taking a moment to settle with the threatening reality that loomed.

The entire journey to the Capital proceeded in absolute silence from Sylteena, as the couple from hell had themselves to keep entertained and disregard her person as a whole.

• • •

The long journey, unfortunately, crept into the early hours of the afternoon.

It was not until the short arm of the clock tower approached Figure Two that the Duke's elite carriage strode through the paved palace gates, halting at the carpeted steps to the open doors.

The carriage halted before opening for the guests within to step out.

 The Duke and Duchess were the first to grace the grounds, immediately lowering their heads at the persons who stood at the open castle doors.

Queen Rebecca and Prince Wilhelm.

"Your Majesty. Your Highness," the couple recited before raising their heads to lock eyes on the scowl imprinted on Queen Rebecca's lips.

They gulped, feeling the weight of her piercing glare on their failed first impression.

Duke George then cleared his throat softly, "Y- Your Majesty, allow me to first apologize for—"

"Not only did you dare to keep me waiting..." Her voice trailed with an underlying wrath. "... But you had the audacity to delay the entire wedding plan by two hours!" Her amber-green eyes are slit.

The Duke and his wife bowed once more, lowering their heads deeper than before.

"Forgive us, Your Majesty!" Genevieve spoke in a remorseful tone. "The storm from the previous night destructed most of the vegetation along the road, forcing us to avert our route."

George nodded, "Forgive our tardiness, Your Majesty... It was no intention of ours!"

Her Majesty, Rebecca, only stared down at the lowered heads with a distasteful grimace, unable to quench the crawling irritation underneath her skin.

It was bad enough she was forced into all these, but their insolence was another thing!

A light touch then fell on her shoulder, causing her to look to the side, locking eyes with her youngest son.

Prince Wilhelm offered her a meek smile, nudging his head towards the Duke and his wife. Rebecca sighed.

"Rise."

The Duke and Duchess paused before carefully lifting their heads. "Thank you, Your Majesty," they recited.

It took another moment of awkward silence before the queen's eyes raised to sight the figure behind them. She arched a brow.

"Is that the one?" Her tone was quizzical as she gauged the mute maiden who stood with her head bowed and her dress mesmerizing at a glance.

Genevieve and George looked over their shoulders, sighting Sylteena's submissive being before taking a step to the side.

The Duchess took it upon herself to speak. "This is our youngest daughter, Your Majesty," her hands landed on Sylteena's shoulder, sending a sense of gentleness to her touch. Something Sylteena had never known her for.

"Sylteena." Genevieve's lips pulled to a proud smile.

Dragging behind the velvet flare of the extravagant dress that squeezed her shape into an hourglass figure, Sylteena stepped forward with her eyes not leaving the concrete floor. "Good afternoon, Your Majesty..." 

Her lush blonde strands, braided and laced with golden pins and chain, shone like a petite crown on her delicate figure; her meek appearance being soft to the gaze and yet strangely alluring.

"Look up, girl," Rebecca ordered.

Sylteena's knuckles lightened to the force of her fists. She gingerly raised her head.

Rebecca's brows furrowed at the sight of her mismatched eyes; the colors crimson and black.

With Sylteena's face bearing a neutral expression, her eyes weighed slightly in lack of joy — or any emotions in fact — as she found her gaze falling back to the ground in instinct.

Queen Rebecca only observed.

"You are a lot more beautiful than I had imagined," the casual tone of Prince Wilhelm sliced through the silent air, seizing all gazes.

Rebecca's elbow instantly impacted the side of his abdomen, forcing a groan from his lips as he cringed.

She then cleared her throat. "Sylteena?"

Sylteena barely raised her head.

Feeling no sense of maternity or warmth to her soon-to-be daughter-in-law, Rebecca's voice came out stern and stoic, "The guests are already seated in the grand hall." Rebecca then snapped her fingers, beckoning a few maids to rush forth. "They will have you dressed and ready before bringing you downstairs for the ceremony."

Sylteena's head nodded as if manual nudged to, gingerly shifting her attention to the maids that led her in and towards the staircase.

Her feet moved in measured steps as she distanced herself from them, her expression plain; nothing near the glimmering attire she framed... And far from the expected gleam, a bride would carry on her wedding day.

Sylteena's fingers clutched into her dress.