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 Selene 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.
Lara walked in without being announced, her worn training tunic a stark contrast to Selene's finery. She smelled of sweat 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 Selene without fear, wondering why she had been summoned.
Selene 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 would set aside his time with me because of you? Tell me, what are you to him, that you pass so easily through doors meant for a queen?"
Lara glanced at the windows, letting her eyes rest on the view before turning back to Selene.
"Princess, I..."
"You will address me as queen," Selene cut in.
Lara 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."
Selene's gaze darkened like a storm cloud, her eyes flashing with anger.
"You dare," she whispered.
"I state only the truth," Lara replied, speaking in a calm tone, unlike Selene's rising fury.
Selene 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, little brat."
Her eyes swept over Lara, lingering on her boots.
"You walk these halls with dirt on your feet as though his attention earns you privilege."
She stopped just short of Lara, close enough to smell the scent of sweat and iron that clung to her skin.
"But his charity is not love," she continued, her breath a warm caress on Lara's skin. "And a pretty face is not worth."
"Nor is magic wisdom," she replied, her voice low and even.
Selene'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."
Lara didn't blink. "Then why are you so afraid?"
A flicker of something passed through Selene'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."