The Queen Mother's Palace
Where silence itself learned to kneel.
Medea crossed the threshold into the imposing interior, where rose-colored lacework had been carved directly into the ancient stone walls—delicate patterns frozen in permanence, beautiful and suffocating in equal measure.
Above, magnificent frescoes adorned the semi-circular vaulted ceiling—testimony to the tremendous wealth and power this palace's mistress had once commanded in her prime.
Yet unlike the ceiling's grandeur, only pale white goddess statues lined the corridor walls. The occasional painting depicted scenes of pious devotion, and the heavy scent of frankincense—reminiscent of a stone cathedral—drifted past her nose.
Since her eldest son's death, the atmosphere here had grown increasingly funereal.
It has been quite some time since I last set foot in this place.
As a child, Medea had feared these halls. The goddess statues on every wall had seemed to glare down at her with cold marble eyes, waiting for her to falter.
When she had wept from fear, the Queen Mother would scold her more harshly. So Medea had learned to bite her lip and swallow her tears in silence.
She had already understood, even then, that crying would summon no comfort—only contempt.
— The Favored Granddaughter — "Grandmother!"
Upon entering the chamber where the Queen Mother awaited, Birna rushed ahead of Medea without hesitation. She buried her face in the elderly woman's embrace, displaying her charms with ostentatious affection—utterly oblivious to the tension crackling through the air.
"Birna, you have come as well."
The Queen Mother's voice softened perceptibly. She patted Birna's back with genuine tenderness before gently pulling away.
Then she raised her head.
Her gaze landed upon Medea—and hardened into stone.
"You."
The warmth vanished as though it had never existed. Before her stood the source of a lifetime's vexation—the living reminder of every sorrow.
Medea advanced with measured steps until she stood at the very center of the hall. She positioned herself directly before the Queen Mother and lowered herself into a graceful curtsy.
"Medea offers her respects to Grandmother."
"Kneel!"
The command cracked through the hall like a whip.
The contrast was unmistakable.
Birna had ignored all etiquette and thrown herself into the Queen Mother's arms—yet received only warmth and indulgence.
Medea's manners and greeting were flawless—yet the Queen Mother's expression twisted with undisguised displeasure.
Every observer could see plainly whom the Queen Mother favored.
How unfortunate that Medea is being scolded, Birna mused, her eyes glittering with barely concealed delight. But why is Grandmother so particularly furious today?
Catherine, who had half-heartedly considered speaking in Medea's defense, retreated the moment she perceived the intensity of her mother-in-law's rage.
Of course she would, Medea thought, concealing her contempt.
Her gaze swept the chamber—and found Madame Cuisine standing beneath the platform where the Queen Mother sat, wearing a serpent's smile.
Their eyes met. The head maid raised the corners of her mouth and inclined her head in mocking acknowledgment.
"I shall do as Grandmother commands."
Medea walked forward and sank to her knees. Yet even in supplication, nothing servile marked her posture—her spine remained straight, her head unbowed.
"However, I worry that such anger may prove harmful to Grandmother's health. If you would reveal the cause of your displeasure, I would gratefully seek forgiveness."
"You dare feign ignorance? Will you sow chaos in this palace once more and then pretend innocence?"
The Queen Mother's face flushed crimson at her granddaughter's measured composure.
"Are you even conscious of being a Princess? Because you have nothing productive to occupy your time, do you parade about so brazenly—flaunting the fact that you grew up motherless?"
In an instant, Medea's eyes turned glacial.
"Why does Grandmother insult not only me, but my parents as well?"
For the first time, a sharp edge emanated from the Princess who had remained obedient throughout. Her voice carried cold steel—utterly at odds with her delicate appearance.
"How insolent! Do you not recognize the gravity of your sins?"
"Forgive my foolishness. I confess I have no comprehension of what Grandmother speaks."
"Will you persist in feigning ignorance, knowing full well I have learned everything?"
The Queen Mother's voice thundered with righteous fury.
"The head maid has confessed everything. You have been conducting a secret affair with a man!"
A collective gasp rippled through the chamber.
So she pretends to be so demure and proper, Birna thought with vicious satisfaction, yet secretly meets men behind closed doors? What hypocrisy. Though who would even pursue such an insignificant creature?
Unlike Birna's gleeful contempt, Catherine's reaction proved far graver.
Impossible. There are no men anywhere near Medea.
She could state that with absolute certainty. The Princess's eventual marriage was a long-term strategic concern—Catherine had managed it meticulously to prevent any complications.
If that child possessed a lover, I would know of it.
Therefore, the head maid's confession was pure fabrication—a blatant lie manufactured to corner the Princess.
What are you thinking, Cuisine? Why commit something so grave without consulting me first?
Catherine's gaze sought the head maid, attempting to gauge her intentions—to warn her silently.
— The Testimony — "I offer my deepest apologies, Your Majesty."
But Madame Cuisine stepped forward, ignoring Catherine entirely.
"I am also profoundly sorry, Your Royal Highness."
She addressed Medea directly.
"Upon discovering Her Highness's clandestine affair, she attempted to silence me by manufacturing rumors that I was persecuting her."
She struck her chest dramatically and sank to her knees.
"But as someone who has devoted absolute loyalty to the Valdina royal family, I cannot ignore the truth. This matter directly concerns Valdina's sacred honor. Yet Her Highness persists in pretending ignorance—I had no choice but to speak."
The head maid's eyes turned toward another woman lurking in the shadows.
At her subtle signal, Marieu stepped forward.
"My name is Marieu. I served as Her Highness Medea's personal maid. My mother was Her Royal Highness's wet nurse, and I have attended her since childhood."
Marieu placed an elegant hand over her heart and dipped into a graceful curtsy—her greeting and elaborate bearing suggesting a noblewoman rather than a servant.
The Queen Mother frowned at such presumptuous self-presentation but remained silent.
"The Princess compelled me to accompany her whenever she met this man. I told her it was improper—that it would damage royal honor—but instead of heeding my counsel, Her Highness banished me to shabby quarters and instructed her maids to harass and punish me."
Her soft, frightened voice rang with manufactured sincerity.
"After His Late Majesty the King and His Majesty the current King departed, Her Highness felt terribly lonely. That is likely why she succumbed to forbidden affection, despite knowing it was wrong..."
Marieu touched her eyes with the edge of her sleeve, then gazed upon Medea with tears streaming artfully down her cheeks.
"Forgive me, Your Highness. Please... do not forgive me..."
"Your Royal Highness, I implore you—cease concealing truth beneath lies and fabrications. Please demonstrate the dignity befitting Valdina's direct descendant."
They stood together, heads bowed in perfect supplication:
the loyal head maid,
the wounded servant.
A flawlessly scripted tableau.
Ha—you are finished now, Cuisine thought beneath her lowered lashes.
This is what you deserve for casting me aside, Marieu added silently.
"Medea! You are absolutely revolting!"
The Queen Mother exploded with fury.
Yet what enraged her more than the testimonies was her granddaughter's incompetence—allowing herself to be accused by mere servants.
What manner of mistress permits inferiors to level such accusations? And royal blood, no less!
Behind her sleeve, Madame Cuisine permitted herself a smile of vicious satisfaction.
I knew this would happen. The Queen Mother could never tolerate discovering her underage granddaughter conducts affairs with men.
And when she learns the man's identity is Count Etienne specifically...
Her fury will become apocalyptic.
Beyond expelling her from the palace, she might confine Medea to a convent for the remainder of her days.
The head maid's wild imagination delighted her tremendously.
However—
The haze of triumph blooming around her dissipated silently as a calm voice pierced the chamber.
"Their accusations are false."
Medea denied it with perfect, unshakeable composure.
The hall went utterly still.
Every eye turned to the kneeling Princess—her spine straight, her gaze unwavering.
The true game had only just begun.
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