Whether it was the newfound emptiness of the castle, weaving silence into further endless silence, or it was the cool chill of her room with the fire no longer burning, Athusa found herself unable to rest: turning fruitlessly between the hours. With a sigh, she sat up, and gazed at the moonlight filtering into her chambers through the slightest gap between the tapestries.
What should she do? She considered. Should she ask Carlene if she could exchange her room for a smaller one for the next evening? She was deeply exhausted and yet her entire body, especially her mind, felt unable to be at ease at all.
Everything was uncomfortable.
She sat for a moment longer, contemplating, before pushing the covers aside, stepped into the shoes she had kept neatly beside her bed. She strode across the room, to where Carlene had hung up her dress for tomorrow, and began changing out of her nightgown. She felt a little better afterwards, a little less vulnerable and looking at herself before the mirror she began arranging her hair.
When she had brushed her hair to satisfaction, pinning back the platinum-blonde locks into a low ponytail and securing it with a band of pearls, she felt for the matchbox to light the candles in her lantern. She tucked the rest of the matchbox in the pocket of her dress sleeve and began making way for her father's - no, for her office. If she could not sleep, there was plenty of work to be done for the duchy. She may as well make the best use of the passing hours.
She did not expect to run into another. A little past the library, she ran into a solid body and startled, she nearly dropped the lantern, until she saw who it was in the hall. The dim light shone on sharply handsome features, catching finally upon silver eyes. They looked concerned.
"Your Highness..."
Eucemon steadied her before quickly withdrawing his hands.
"My apologies, my lady. Are you alright?"
Her heart was hammering wildly even as she slowly breathed out.
"Yes. You ... you were so quiet I didn't notice at all."
He seemed to be thinking quickly, as if considering what to say next. She was a little curious too: just what was he doing out of the guest room at such an hour? But even though this was her castle, the realm was the property of the imperial family ultimately and questioning a royal would be seen as discourteous at best and traitorous at worst and just as he hesitated with his explanation she also hesitated with the question she truly wanted to ask.
Did the king send him here to investigate after all?
It was too unusual. Too convenient. Eucemon was always accompanied by a retinue of the finest imperial guards. But not a single knight was seen even hours after the funeral even as Athusa expected his guard to appear. The prince must've realized she was wary too, for he looked away, realizing that an excuse would not work on the shrewd princess and it was best to not say anything at all.
If he was here to look into something, she thought, he would not tell her.
"It is alright." She said at last. "You don't have to tell me."
They walked in silence down the hall for a while.
"You should try to rest." He murmured. "This isn't good for you."
She laughed to that, the tone of her voice sounding bitter to even her own ears. Her empty laugh resounded through the emptier halls. Her father had liked to keep the castle lively throughout the day, for some of the seamstresses preferred to complete their finest work at the quieter hours of the evening, when all else had retired to bed.
Sometimes, especially on the nights before a grand banquet, the kitchens would be bustling with energy also as the bakers and long retinue of cooks and their assistants prepared their signature cuisines. The evening hours were the hours for the artisans and the Grand Duke had been especially accommodating of preferences of when to work.
"Try, perhaps, but it may simply be futile. Aside," her eyes lowered. "All rest plenty when beneath the ground."
"The Duke's spirit would not be at peace to see you so unhappy." Came the swift response.
"He's not here anymore." Her voice was cold. "Nor was he often here that frequently anyways. For sixteen years, the better part of the year he would be away to the capital for work, in between for travels about the duchy. I am not distraught, everything will not change ... that much."
Eucemon paused. Despite the Grand Duke had been so often busy, his love for his daughter was well known through the realm, and it was said the Randall princess lacked nothing. When the lord was finally home at the northern castle, the Duke Randall had made sure to spend plenty of time with his daughter: bringing her to riding and archery.
"I'm sorry for taking his time away from you." The Chancellor was after all one of his statecraft tutors and undoubtedly his preferred mentor. But time spent tutoring the royal family at the Capital would mean there was less time the lord had for his own family.
She seemed a little less guarded at that. They walked less in silence as small conversation continued. He spoke more of the south, of the time spent with her father, and she brightened too as she compared the lessons with her own from the late lord of managing the duchy.
He was different than she had expected, she considered of Eucemon.
"I'm surprised. I thought you couldn't..." Her voice trailed off, unsure of what to say.
"I can still perceive gratitude," he said. He could understand loyalty. He could comprehend affection in his own way. "It's just ... not enough for many."
She looked a little guilty. She had not meant to make it sound like he had a deficiency: the second queen's madness and taking of her own life was also a well known story throughout the realm. She had not meant for him to think of his mother, the Lady Maryanne, and the queen's impossible expectations for her Star Seed son.
"Lady Athusa," the prince continued suddenly. "I understand you are trying to compact the estate budget and perhaps it is a good approach. However, certain cuts cannot be made."
His silver eyes flickered to the shadowy end of the halls.
"Why don't you all show yourselves?"
Six men garbed in black stepped forward from the darkness. Though their faces were half obscured by masks, Athusa instantly recognize some of them by the shape of their eyes and angle of their brows. Her heart plummeted.
Former knights of the duchy.
"Why?" She whispered.
One of the knights seemed duly uncomfortable.
"Lady Randall... please, just give us the ring. The marquess-"
Her face paled. Her uncle wants her life?
"-unfortunately, for the marquess," mused Eucemon. "My father would seem to disagree."
The assassins readied their blades.
Swiftly, the prince stepped past beside her, throwing his cloak up into the air. As the garment slowly fell, the long cloth obscuring her view of the assassins, she heard screams for a splitting moment and her skin prickled feeling cold as chilling as if she was outside the castle.
Her eyes met Eucemon's calm silver ones.
The assailants were all frozen solid: the hall crowned by glittering ice.
"The Vierwich duchy is the indisputable property of solely the princess."