This love is like a curse (2)
The brother and sister didn't seem to have arrived yet. Gareth, the crown prince of the empire and her half-brother, usually stood like a monarch either in the center of the banquet hall or on the second floor, overlooking the entire hall.
And next to him was always Ayla - the embodiment of nobility and elegance.
“But we may not see Ayla Roem Girtha today,” Thalia chuckled to herself, picking up the silver goblet from the small round table.
As the image of Ayla collapsed in the middle of the ballroom, her face deathly pale, came to mind, a fierce feeling of satisfaction flared up in her chest. The way she shook, spewing wine onto the marble floor, looked as if her very heart was being torn out of her.
“I wish it were true.”
Thalia ran the sharp tip of her nail along the surface of the goblet, making it creak disgustingly.
She couldn't count how many times she prayed while looking at her stepsister convulsing on the floor.
“Just die, Ayla. Please don't ever open your eyes again."
- Your Highness.
Thalia, immersed in dark thoughts, turned her head towards the voice that sounded very close.
In front of her stood a man in a perfectly fitting dark green suit. One of his hands was pressed to his chest in a respectful gesture. His face seemed familiar.
Only after some time did Talia remember that this man often attended receptions hosted by her mother. The name slipped out of my head, but my memory recalled how my mother called him Count Serian.
- Glad to see you again, Your Highness. Every day you become more and more beautiful,” the man looked at her with admiration, then bowed low and kissed the back of her hand.
A chill of disgust ran down my spine, as if a wet caterpillar had crawled across my skin. But Thalia forced herself to smile.
“My mother asked you to accompany me, right?”
“Her Majesty is always concerned about your well-being, princess,” his evasive answer sounded like confirmation. “But even without the empress’s request, I could not resist talking to you.” Take a look around.
He whispered in her ear, as if revealing a great secret:
“All the men in this room are looking at you, your highness.” All of them, like me, dream of coming up, kissing your beautiful hand and showering you with ardent compliments. But they can hardly restrain themselves - no one wants to incur the wrath of His Highness the Crown Prince.
- So you’re not afraid?
“I earned his hatred a long time ago,” he replied with a sly grin. “But because of this, I have the honor of accompanying you.” You could say that failure turned into success.
Talia hated men who clung to her and paid too much attention to her. More precisely, she openly despised them.
But even an unreliable shield seemed like a salvation - anything was better than standing alone under a hundred prickly glances.
Thalia accepted his help with an air as if she was showing him a favor.
- And what did mother say? Maybe she asked to save the pitiful eldest daughter, who, like a black crow, wanders alone around the hall?
“The Empress ordered that everything be done to ensure that you enjoy the reception.”
Thalia barely suppressed a laugh.
The man led her to the dance floor in front of the balcony.
“And she told me to do everything possible so that you outshine everyone at this ball.”
The dancers, to the accompaniment of lyres, lutes [1] and organs, awkwardly retreated, casting furious glances in their direction. But the count pointedly ignored them and reverently bowed before the princess in a deep bow.
“Will you allow me the honor of dancing with you, your highness?”
Thalia looked with contempt at his pampered palm without a single callus. She didn't want to touch a strange man. But caustic glances and whispers around only fueled her stubbornness.
“Everyone hopes that I will disappear or sit quietly in the corner as if I’m not here.”
"But that won't happen."
Thalia placed her hand in his. Just waiting for this, the man put his arm around her waist and led her along the platform with graceful grace.
Even Thalia, who had difficulty withstanding other people's touches, could not help but admire the man's outstanding dancing skills. Count Serian flawlessly followed the melody and skillfully emphasized the advantages of his partner.
Talia had always loved to dance, but she had never felt as graceful as she did at this moment. And it seems she wasn’t the only one who felt these feelings.
She glanced over the shoulder of the count, who skillfully twirled her in the dance. Hundreds of eyes harmoniously, almost synchronously watched her every movement. All these people, who had recently despised the bastard of the imperial family, now could not take their eyes off her.
Thalia felt a sense of triumph. Even before, when she appeared at receptions, people pretended not to notice her, although they secretly followed her every step. But then only contempt and wariness were visible in their eyes.
Now everything was different. They looked at her the same way they looked at her mother - with fear mixed with admiration. These glances enveloped her like a tangled ball of threads - sticky, greedy, piercing.
She felt like Senevier - the most powerful, the most dangerous and the most beautiful woman in the world.
But the sweet feeling of victory did not last long. The music suddenly stopped, and the true hosts of this evening entered the hall.
—His Highness, Crown Prince of the Empire, Gareth Roem Girtha, and Her Highness, First Princess of the Empire, Ayla Roem Girtha.
Under the loud exclamation of the master of ceremonies [2], the crown prince and princess of the empire crossed the threshold of the hall with a majestic step and began to descend the marble stairs. And at that very moment, Thalia found herself thrown out of everyone's attention.
Count Serian with a bitter grin led her towards the terrace, where food and wine were displayed.
“It’s a pity that our fun was so rudely interrupted,” he muttered, as if trying to dispel her gloomy expression. But the girl was no longer listening.
She did not take her burning gaze off Ayla. She stood in a dazzling white dress, her face lit up with a smile, as if she had completely forgotten about her recent humiliation when she collapsed on the floor in front of the crowd. Next to her brother, smiling discreetly, she looked like the embodiment of refined grace.
Talia's heart filled with burning rage.
She stared at them inquisitively: thick black hair, emerald eyes, faces as if carved from ivory. They showed that very true greatness and dignity - something that neither she nor Senevier could achieve, no matter how hard they tried.
Seneviere was the snake that dragged the young emperor, once hailed as a Saint, into the swamp of filthy adultery. And she is just a spawn that escaped from the belly of this snake. And even if Senevier gives birth to the emperor ten more sons, this will not change anything.
Thalia watched silently as her half-brother and sister were surrounded by an enthusiastic crowd, then abruptly turned to the table with wine. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed how some of the guests, who just a minute ago had been looking at the heirs with reverence, were now whispering, casting meaningful glances in her direction.
Every nerve in her body tensed to the limit. I just wanted to tear out those impudent eyes.
“Don’t you dare compare me to them!”
The princess could hardly restrain herself from shouting it out loud, trying with all her might to keep a straight face.
And next to her - as luck would have it - this man, as if not noticing her anger, tactlessly whispered in her ear:
“It seems their Highnesses have decided to ignore your presence.” What do you say? Do you dare to greet them first?
She shot him a look full of venom.
He just grinned, as if enjoying her rage.
“Isn’t that what you came here for?”
Thalia bit her lip.
He was right. She came to ruin their mood, to turn their triumph into dissonance. Senevier probably wanted this too.
Gathering her will into a fist, the girl clutched the goblet and resolutely walked towards her half-brother and sister, proudly walking through the crowd.
At that moment, Longboat Raedgo Siekan appeared at the door of the banquet hall.
Thalia froze. Her heart began to pound, as if she had been caught off guard.
Notes:
1. The lute is an ancient string instrument with a pear-shaped body, similar to a guitar, but with a more delicate and shimmering sound. In the Middle Ages and the Renaissance, it was often used to accompany singers and court dances.
2. The master of ceremonies is a court manager responsible for conducting special events and ceremonies. In the context of the scene, he plays the role of a herald, solemnly announcing the arrival of high-ranking guests.