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"Aish, tsk tsk tsk... I can't believe what happens when your favorite melon cookies aren't made by the great Calantha!" Lady Calantha teased, crossing her arms as she pretended to pout.
The moment Queen Barbara heard those words, her face paled. Melon cookies were her favorite indulgence, and few could get the recipe right. Not even the palace's finest chefs came close—only Calantha could make them perfectly every time, even sending them over while she was still recovering. To threaten her with their absence? That was a low blow. She was about to yield when her daughter cut in, eyes glinting with mischief.
"Hmm... I never thought Mother was a bully," Eira mused aloud, feigning deep thought.
"But never mind. I've always got your back, Mama. I may have inherited Father's looks and battle skills, but don't forget—I got your cooking too," she whispered loudly enough for her mother to hear.
Queen Barbara's eyes sparkled with excitement. How could she forget that her beloved daughter had mastered the art of melon cookies as well? A slow, mischievous smile spread across her lips.
"Hehe... you can't bully me anymore, Calantha. Gotcha!" she said, laughing triumphantly.
"Pttf..." Lady Calantha gave Eira a mock glare, puffing up her cheeks. Eira only grinned wider.
King Baltimore, who had quietly stood by watching his three radiant women, chuckled aloud. Calantha turned her glare to him instantly, and he nearly choked on his breath, recognizing the spark of mischief in her sharp gaze.
Fortunately, two young voices broke the tension.
"Hehe... What's the event, Father? Mother?" Winston's playful voice piped up as he strolled in. His eyes widened the moment he spotted Calantha. "Oh my gawd, Easton! GM is back!"
Winston rushed forward to hug Calantha, who beamed, stroking the hair of her "silly child." Queen Barbara rolled her eyes affectionately and drew Eira closer, resting a hand gently on her back. Easton entered moments later, smiling at the familiar warmth.
"Goodness, FW," Easton grinned, using the pet name he had always reserved for Calantha. He joined Winston in a tight hug, and their father soon followed. Eira and Queen Barbara joined too, and for a moment, they were one big, happy family—united in joy and comfort.
But not far away, hidden in the shadows of the forest near the garden wall, Princess Athena and her mother—the Second Mistress—watched in silence. Bitterness clouded Athena's expression.
"Why does Father always leave us out?" Athena whispered through gritted teeth. "Why does he treat Brother Easton, Winston, and Eira like royalty while we're ignored? I hate you... for being just a mistress."
Her mother said nothing, her jaw clenched in silent fury. The two figures slipped away into the trees, swallowed by shadows and resentment.
Back at the palace, King Baltimore decided to host an intimate family dinner in the southern garden—a tranquil haven of blooming lantern flowers and soft music. The air was filled with laughter and teasing. Queen Barbara and Calantha exchanged friendly barbs, neither willing to concede. Winston and Eira were locked in a playful battle of wits, while Easton occasionally added a calm word or two.
The king simply watched, a satisfied smile on his lips. His heart was full.
Until he spoke.
"You'll be leaving for Tenebria tomorrow, Eira," he said suddenly.
The words cut through the warmth like a sudden gust of wind. Eira's smile froze.
"What? Why? Is the marriage this soon?" she asked, her voice firm, brows raised.
"It's not the wedding. There's been a change," the king replied, his tone measured. "A contest has been announced. It will determine who becomes the Empress of Tenebria."
"A contest?" Eira echoed, confused. "Among the candidates?"
"Yes."
She leaned back, crossing her arms. "Then why not send one of my half-sisters?"
The king sighed. "The Tenebrian king specifically requested your participation. It was in the letter. We tried to nominate someone else, but they rejected it. The decision is out of our hands."
Eira narrowed her eyes. "And what if I refuse?"
"You can choose not to win. Play dumb. Get disqualified. Just go... and come back. That's all I ask," he said, his eyes pleading yet firm.
Eira studied his face for a moment before nodding slowly. "Fine."
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The Next Morning
Eira stood at the grand entrance of the palace, the early light brushing her face with a soft golden hue. Her personal maid, Cassandra, had packed their things at dawn. Their journey to the Tenebrian capital—a place whispered about in fearful awe—was about to begin.
Nobles, ministers, dukes, and lords lined the courtyard. Her stepsisters hovered at the back, their expressions unreadable. The mistresses stood on either side of the queen, their features composed but distant.
The king remained solemn, emotion hidden behind his royal facade. Queen Barbara, however, had already begun to weep silently, her tears glistening in the light. Lady Calantha stood still, an encouraging smile on her lips, but her eyes glinted with emotion far too heavy to hide. Winston and Easton stood like stone, but their gazes betrayed the storm inside.
Eira offered a warm smile and moved to hug them one by one. Her brothers squeezed her tightly, whispering soft encouragements in her ear. When she turned to her father, the king refused to let go, placing several kisses on her forehead. Then came her mother—Queen Barbara—who tried to remain strong but broke the moment Eira wrapped her arms around her.
A single tear slid down the queen's cheek. She quickly wiped it away.
Lastly, Eira turned to Lady Calantha. Their hug lasted longer, the air thick with unsaid words and a bond that couldn't be severed. And just like that, both burst into tears.
"Mother, I'm not getting married. Just going for a contest," Eira sniffled. "I promise I'll slack off and come home."
Calantha nodded, finally letting go after a long moment.
With one last glance, Eira waved to them and stepped into the carriage. As the horses neighed and the wheels began to turn, the castle gates opened wide. She didn't look back—not because she wasn't sad, but because she knew if she did, she might never leave.
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