The chamber burned with bright light, like a wildfire. The smooth stone floor showed the shape of a crowned wolf and a rising flame, and the sun made the inlaid patterns shine. Golden curtains moved with the breeze, their folds glowing like waves on a restless sea. The room was built to impress and overwhelm, with glass walls that made it feel like there was no line between inside and outside. The heat in the air was heavy, wrapping around the skin like a warm, invisible blanket.
Princess Valeria stood in the center of the room, glowing in a gown that looked like it was made from gold. The silk hugged her body, with layers that opened softly like flower petals. Thin golden threads sparkled across her top, spreading light across her skin. A small crown sat on her forehead, with yellow gems that flashed like tiny flames when she moved. She looked powerful and perfect, so beautiful it was hard to look at her without feeling small.
Eira walked in without being announced, her worn commander's uniform a stark contrast to Valeria's finery. She smelled of steel and leather like someone who belonged on a battlefield. Her boots left light marks on the smooth stone floor. She held a metal glove under one arm, its plates shining in the sunlight. She looked straight at Valeria without fear, wondering why she had been summoned.
Valeria turned slowly, her face calm but with a sharp look in her eyes. Her voice was quiet, but there was a clear edge to it.
"Who are you, that the king summons you to his private chambers? Tell me, what are you to him, that you pass so easily through doors meant for a queen?"
Eira glanced at the windows, letting her eyes rest on the view before turning back to Valeria.
So that's what this is, just jealousy.
"Princess, I..."
"You will address me as queen," Valeria cut in.
Eira lowered her chin for a moment, then raised her head again, not out of respect, but to keep her composure.
"Forgive me, Princess. But you're not queen yet."
Valeria's gaze darkened like a storm cloud, her eyes flashing with anger.
"You dare," she whispered.
"I state only the truth," Eira replied, speaking in a calm tone, unlike Valeria's rising fury.
Valeria stepped forward, her gown trailing behind her like a river of fire.
"The truth?" she echoed, her voice dripping with contempt. "The truth is you forget your place, Warden."
Her eyes swept over Eira, lingering on the scuffs on her boots.
"You walk these halls with dirt on your feet and war in your eyes, as though loyalty earns you privilege."
She stopped just short of Eira, close enough to smell the scent of sweat and iron that clung to her skin.
"But loyalty is not love," she continued, her breath a warm caress on Eira's skin. "And usefulness is not worth."
"Nor is magic wisdom," she replied, her voice low and even.
Valeria's jaw tightened, her face a mask of anger and frustration. "The king may keep you close," she spat, "but he will never choose you."
Eira didn't blink. "Then why are you so afraid?"
A flicker of something passed through Valeria's eyes, fear, rage, pride.
"You are beneath me," she said coldly. "A fool, meddling in matters far above your station. Get out, before I forget my grace entirely."