Flawed Meat

The Kingdom of Geraldion, situated at the heart of the Central Continent, stood renowned for its captivating and ethereal beauty, competing even with the grandeur of the surrounding empires.

Extending over the fertile southern lands, the kingdom beckoned individuals from distant lands to explore its hot summer retreats along the expansive shores of the Crystal Sea, while winter had always captivated foreigners with magical sceneries created by the heavy snowfalls. The capital itself served as the epicenter of opulence and extravagance that defined Geraldion in all its glory.

Yet, behind the thick veil of this pristine beauty lay a concealed and grim history—the narrative of how the current ruling family, under the leadership of King Euris Ruan, ascended to the throne, wielding the mantle of power with its own shadowy past.

Deceit, clandestine machinations, and intricate conspiracies, which had been unfolding over the span of years, culminated in a nationwide rebellion instigated by none other than Euris himself.

This uprising, characterized by its ruthlessness and cruelty, dealt a devastating blow to the royal family of King Aster Valentine, Euris' cousin. It was more akin to a brutal massacre than a calculated political maneuver. Even fervent supporters of the Ruans were aghast at the appalling consequences wrought by their allegiance.

Termed the "Fratricide Rebellion," this dark chapter etched itself into the annals of Geraldion's history, marking a period of unparalleled horror.

Euris Ruan, the orchestrator of this tragic upheaval, earned the moniker "Brotherkiller." This name encapsulated the grim reality of a king who severed familial ties by beheading his own brother, King Aster, all in the ruthless pursuit of the throne. The echoes of this act reverberated through the kingdom, forever staining the legacy of the once-glorious ruling family.

The sole individual within the Valentine family to be bestowed mercy by Euris was Elindine, the Queen Consort, for whom Euris harbored secret affections. Posing as an effort to restore his tarnished reputation, King Ruan ordered her exile to the North—a desolate expanse shrouded in mystery and undiscovered horrors. There, in the embrace of solitude, Elindine was destined to spend her remaining days.

Unbeknownst to King Ruan, however, Elindine's womb cradled the seed of new life.

Now, a quarter of a century later, that nascent life has blossomed into the formidable ruler of the North—Duke Tillian Valentine, the solitary and surviving scion of the once-mighty Valentine family.

***

"Have you heard the latest? It appears that the princess is at last going to be sent away!"

A tall and rather slender maid leaned in closer to her companion, who stood nearby with a dirty rag in hand. She continued, lowering her voice discreetly,

"It has nearly been a year now, and Lord Crueder must be growing increasingly frustrated with her!"

"Hush! Lower your voice, won't you? She is, after all, of royal lineage."

The shorter, more robust maid pressed her chunky index finger against her thin lips and gestured with a slight jerk of her head to the right, redirecting the first maid's attention to the woman slowly walking through the long, sunlit corridor.

"Behold her plight—tossed left and right like a discarded doll. It echoes the adage: even famished dogs shy away from flawed meat!"

The subject of their conversation was none other than the lady of the manor, Aideen Ruan—the Second Princess of the Royal Ruan Family. She had been bartered into a marriage of convenience with the hitherto politically neutral Count Constantine Crueder. In a strategic move, the Count had forsaken his political neutrality in exchange for Aideen's substantial dowry, a financial infusion imperative to maintaining his noble status which he was about to lose due to enormous debt.

The two maids shared a simultaneous bout of mirth, only to abruptly stifle their laughter as the lady in question approached their vicinity.

Continuing her measured pace without interruption, she subtly acknowledged the maids' presence with a brief nod before resuming her unhurried stride. Meanwhile, two women brazenly stuck out their tongues and made obscene gestures in her direction.

Unfazed by the disrespectful conduct of the maids, the woman remained unperturbed. In truth, she was oblivious to their actions, for the young woman was entirely blind.

'So, it is true, after all... I am finally being sent away. I have become the discarded piece of meat, deemed undesirable even by the repugnant, starving dog that is Count Crueder.'

Aideen interlaced her hands in front of her stomach, maintaining a composed demeanor as she continued her gradual advance toward the stairwell. 

Having spent nearly a year within the confines of the Count's manor, often consigned to solitude, she found herself compelled to acquaint herself with its layout. Consequently, she had become adept at navigating its halls, moving with a familiarity that belied her lack of sight.

Yet, as she confidently took another step forward, her foot was caught in the folded corner of a thick rug adorning the floor—a mischievous trap meticulously laid by maids who viewed Aideen as naught more than a source of amusement.

Startled by the unexpected impediment, the princess lost her balance and descended into an unceremonious tumble. In the process, she inadvertently overturned a metal bucket, its contents of cold water cascading over the fabric of her dress.

A fresh peal of laughter reverberated through the otherwise tranquil hall on the second floor of the manor. It was succeeded by the ostentatiously feigned concern of two maids dashing to the scene.

"Tsk, Goodness, My Lady! You ought to be careful! Now we have to clean both the rug and the floor all over again! What a waste of time!"

The tall maid kicked the metal bucket with her foot, crossing her hands in front of her chest as she towered over Aideen who was still sitting in the pool of dirty water. The second maid walked up to the princess as well and joined in complaining,

"My Lady, please get up this instant! The water is ruining the floor!"

"Yes, I'm sorry."

Aideen was used to such unusual treatment from the maids. She held absolutely no respect in the Count's manor and was often ridiculed and humiliated by nearly every single member of the staff. 

Sitting amidst the squalid pool of water, devoid of any offered assistance to rise, proved not to be the nadir of her tribulations during her time spent there.

In her attempt to stand, the young woman encountered an additional hindrance. Something weighty was anchoring her to the ground—the first maid was standing on the fabric of her ruined dress, while the second–on her long loose hair. Exchanging sly glances and struggling to stifle further outbreaks of laughter, the maids continued watching as the lady struggled to get up.

At last, determined not to endure the role of the perpetual target of their derision, Aideen summoned all her strength. With gathered effort, she managed to rise, enduring the pain of pulling her hair, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of tearing fabric as a sizable portion of her skirt detached itself from the dress.

"Aideen!"

The princess swiftly turned her head in the direction of the familiar high-pitched male voice and responded,

"Yes, Lord Constantine?"

Count Crueder cast a discerning gaze over the woman, his expression steeped in disappointment. He clicked his tongue disapprovingly before continuing with a measure of severity,

"Every time I encounter you in these halls, it seems you are entangled in some form of trouble. Come to my study; there is an urgent matter we must discuss."

With that, he pivoted to depart but halted momentarily to add,

"Do change your dress before you do. I have no tolerance for anything unsightly within my study."

The man briskly advanced toward his office, leaving Aideen to clutch the soiled skirt of her dress between her trembling fingers. Lowering her head, she whispered,

"Yes, My Lord."