Awkward, Are You Sure?

Zeena sat in her usual black hat, this time dressed in a red silk gown.

A tea table had been arranged in the garden, surrounded by colourful flower beds and overlooking the sweeping green lawns. Tiered platters were crowded with exotic pastries, tarts, pies, and crumbles, while steam curled from several teapots.

Zeena lifted her flower-encrusted cup just as Natalie approached in a flowing blue chiffon gown.

Her entire face brightened.

“Natalie!”

Natalie smiled and took the seat opposite her.

Sybill watched Zeena curiously.

“That woman can feel the happiness too.”

Natalie glanced towards her.

“Would you like some tea, Sybill?”

Sybill pointed towards the teapot and gave an awkward little nod.

Zeena raised an eyebrow.

“This is Rowland’s teacher, isn’t it? Quite peculiar, she is.”

“The tarts are exquisite,” Natalie said. “Would you like some, Sybill?”

“Ahh, the…”

Sybill froze.

For one terrible moment, Elena and Silvi flashed through her mind.

No unnecessary thes.

She swallowed.

“Strawberry pie… uhhh… please.”

Zeena’s eyebrow climbed a little higher.

Natalie poured Sybill some tea.

Sybill reached for the cup, but her attention shifted towards the hedges bordering the garden, then the trees farther across the lawn. Her eyes moved towards the path behind Zeena.

“Sybill?” Natalie said.

“Huh?”

Sybill turned too quickly, knocking the cup against its saucer. Tea spilled down the front of her blue lace gown.

“Oh!”

She jumped up and began frantically dabbing at the stain with a napkin.

Zeena stared at her.

“The apologies.”

Sybill reached across the table for another napkin, but her hand caught the edge of her plate. It slipped from the table, smearing strawberry filling across her gown before crashing onto the ground.

Sybill looked down in horror, then slowly towards Zeena.

Zeena’s expression said enough.

Heat rushed to Sybill’s cheeks. She clutched the napkin between both hands, visibly flustered.

“Sorry.”

Zeena’s lips tightened and she rolled her eyes.

Sybill immediately looked back down and began rubbing frantically at the stain, clearly wishing she could disappear along with it.

“Oh, Natalie,” Zeena continued, deliberately turning away from her. “Harold went an entirely different shade of purple when the news arrived that you were coming back.”

Still desperately rubbing at the strawberry stain, Sybill muttered,

“Of course the Harold turned purple.”

Zeena stopped.

“Excuse me?”

Sybill stiffened.

“Ahh… umm… nothing.”

Zeena gave her a long look.

“So, as I was saying…”

Sybill resumed rubbing at her gown.

Then her hand went still.

The embarrassment disappeared from her face almost instantly. Her lavender eyes sharpened as she looked towards the hedges again, then the trees, her gaze moving attentively across the garden.

Zeena frowned.

A worried Natalie called out her name.

“Sybill?”

Sybill’s face turned stern.

The garden erupted.

Dark figures burst from behind the hedges and trees, boots pounding across the marble paths and grass. Steel flashed beneath the afternoon sun as two assassins closed in behind Natalie and Zeena, blades sweeping towards their necks.

ZAP!

A violent crack split the air.

Lightning struck both men before the blades could touch them, sending them crashing to the ground. Their weapons slipped from limp fingers and clattered across the marble.

Sybill was already rising into the air, her stained blue gown billowing beneath her. Her wand appeared in her hand as the awkwardness from moments ago vanished completely.

Her lavender eyes glowed.

“Twelve.”

Another assassin broke through and charged towards Zeena.

Natalie seized a flowerpot and smashed it over his head.

CRASH!

Terracotta shattered around him, but the man merely staggered. Zeena snatched up a heavy porcelain teapot and brought it down hard against the side of his head.

It shattered on impact.

The assassin crumpled onto the grass.

More assassins were already closing in.

Sybill swept her wand with one elegant flick of her wrist.

The air roared.

A tremendous gust tore across the garden, ripping leaves from branches and sending napkins, pastries, and overturned cups flying. Several assassins were caught in the blast, their bodies snapping backwards before they were sent hurtling through the air towards the stone wall.

They struck it with tremendous force.

A few sickening cracks sounded on impact before their bodies dropped limply to the ground.

Sybill barely seemed to have moved. Her long black hair floated around her as though she were suspended beneath water, carried by the wind still swirling through the garden.

One eyebrow rose as she contemplated the destruction below, as though deciding whether the result was entirely to her satisfaction.

A faint smile touched her lips.

The remaining assassins faltered.

One look at Sybill hovering above the garden was enough.

They fled.

Some scattered between the hedges and trees, disappearing across the sprawling grounds.

Sybill slowly lowered herself onto the marble path. Her glowing eyes returned to normal, but her attention remained fixed on the direction in which the assassins had escaped.

“Are you both the okay?”

Natalie nodded.

“We’re fine.”

Zeena said nothing. She was staring at Sybill.

“I have to the checking if there are the others.”

Before either woman could answer, Sybill ran across the garden after the fleeing attackers.

By the time Leo reached the ladies with several armoured guards, the garden looked as though a small war had passed through it. The tea service lay overturned, pastries were scattered across the grass, shattered porcelain and terracotta covered the marble path, and several motionless assassins lay around the garden.

Zeena was still staring in the direction Sybill had disappeared, her mouth slightly open after the sheer display of perfection she had just witnessed.

Leo hurried towards them.

“Queen Natalie. Duchess Zeena. Are you hurt?”

“We’re fine,” Natalie said.

Zeena looked towards him.

“What about that girl?”

Leo followed her gaze.

“She can take care of herself.”

************

Harold sat with his eyes narrowed in concentration. Across from him, Mariana lay sprawled across the divan, lazily twisting a strand of her long red hair around the tip of her wand.

“So the fake prince was arrested.”

Harold said nothing.

Mariana smiled.

“Your suspicions were right. Your son is about to lose his title.”

Harold’s expression hardened.

“I should have had him assassinated on suspicion alone.”

Mariana raised an eyebrow.

“The servant boy?”

“Yes. There was something wrong about him from the beginning.”

Mariana gave a quiet laugh and lazily twirled her wand.

“Well, speaking of assassinations… I sent a little surprise with Zeena’s entourage.”

Harold looked towards her.

“I hope you’ll like it.”

Her amusement faded as she leaned farther back against the divan.

“I can’t go back home. Andrew knows too much, and his goons are actively searching for me. And you sent your nosy wife Zeena away to meet Natalie, now that the bitch is back.”

Harold’s gaze remained fixed on her.

“Whatever Natalie did to you—”

“She didn’t do anything. It was Andrew.”

Mariana examined her manicured nails.

“He rejected me for marriage twice. First for Natalie, then for Alfariya.”

Mariana gestured dramatically at herself from head to toe.

“Can you imagine the level of depravity required to reject all of this?”

She paused, considering it.

“Something tells me Andrew might be asexual.”

A memory flashed through Harold’s mind.

Years ago, he had walked into the throne room without announcing himself and stopped dead. Natalie was sitting on the throne, Andrew standing as she pulled him down by the collar. They were kissing with enough enthusiasm that Harold immediately retraced his steps and quietly closed the doors behind him.

A maid was approaching down the corridor. Harold stopped her and pointed towards the throne room.

“Stand guard. Don’t let anyone enter.”

The maid blinked but nodded. Harold walked away without another word.

Something about living with Zeena for so many years had honed a particular instinct in him. Some things were better left unseen—and even better left unmentioned.

Harold looked at Mariana.

He chose to say nothing.

After a moment, he leaned back in his chair and changed the subject.

“You are one of the most powerful witches this world has ever seen, Mariana. You preside over a Domain and command the mad mages. With that kind of power behind us, we have a very good chance of achieving what we set out to do.”

Mariana laughed.

“You make it sound as though they simply handed it to me.”

She slowly turned her wand between her fingers.

"The circumstances demanded a show of power.”

Harold’s eyes narrowed.

“And you gave them one.”

“I did.”

A satisfied smile spread across Mariana’s face.

“Those who refused to submit were killed. Those who remained learned to submit.”

She continued turning her wand between her fingers.

“Some broke rather quickly. Darlene fell to her knees and begged me for her life.”

“The older mages were already furious. Magic was diminishing, and so was the number of mages in the realm, but the display proved decisive.”

Harold watched her silently.

“After that, there wasn’t much left to discuss. They granted me sole control of the mad mages and the Domain.”

Mariana leaned back against the divan.

“I fought too hard for what I have, Harold. I won’t relinquish control so easily.”

Her smile turned cold.

“If I go down, half the world goes down with me.”

Harold regarded her for a moment.

“What will you do now, Harold?” Mariana asked. “Your wife worships the ground Natalie walks on. What other alliance do you have besides her family?”

Harold gave a dismissive wave.

“Zeena will come around. She loves Rowland, and she loves me.”

Mariana raised an eyebrow.

“And Natalie?”

“Natalie is a beloved pet one becomes too attached to. When it dies, you cry for a few days.”

His expression remained perfectly calm.

“Then you adopt another.”

Mariana stared at him for a moment before a slow smile spread across her face.

“Thoroughly diabolical, you are.”

Harold’s jaw tightened.

“I’m sure your involvement was uncovered days ago,” Mariana continued. “Andrew is simply waiting.”

“That blind fool can wait longer.”

Mariana burst out laughing.

“Oh, you don’t know, dear?”

Harold looked at her.

“His sight is back.”

Harold went still.

“So is his son.”

Mariana smiled.

“And so is his wife.”

The door suddenly opened, and a servant hurried inside carrying another message from the castle.

Harold regarded him.

“Two in one day?”

He gave a humourless laugh.

“My, my.”

The servant bowed.

“My Lord.”

Harold took the message and read it. His expression gradually changed before he slowly looked towards Mariana.

“Well, Mariana.”

Her smile faded.

“It seems your little surprise hidden among Zeena’s entourage was intercepted as well.”

Mariana sat up.

Harold continued reading.

“By a highly skilled mage.”

His eyebrow rose as he read further.

“Several were incapacitated within seconds. The survivors fled before the mage could reach them.”

Mariana’s amusement vanished.

For several seconds, she said nothing. Then she slowly brought a hand to her chin.

“Hmm.”

Her eyes narrowed before a slow smile returned to her face.

“It’s time I put my underlings to some proper use.”

She lazily twirled her wand.

“They’re getting rusty in their dens anyway.”