As she passed the Main Palace, the servants recognized her and hurriedly pressed their foreheads to the ground. Talia wondered if they were terrified that the notoriously ill-tempered Second Princess might make a scene.
Past maids gaping in utter shock at her unannounced visit, Talia entered the Empress’s Palace, appointed more lavishly than any other quarter of the imperial grounds.
At dusk, Senevier usually dined with the Emperor in the Main Palace or spent the hours quietly in her own residence. Talia guessed today would be the latter.
As expected, Senevier was resting inside the secret workshop concealed behind her private library.
Talia descended into the basement through the entrance hidden between the bookshelves, met by the heady fragrance of assorted herbs, the pungent scent of essential oils, and a trace of smoke that stung the nose.
Inside the vast room, where violet motes seemed to drift through the air, medicine vials containing all manner of alchemical reagents and various apparatuses lay scattered about. Beside a blazing hearth, books penned in the tongues of myriad races were stacked high.
It was a cluttered sight, almost unimaginable for a mother who surrounded herself only with the most precious, exquisite things.
Yet Talia crossed the chamber with practiced ease, walking straight toward the desk where Senevier sat. Her mother leaned back against a chair mounded with velvet cushions, scanning a parchment scroll.
When Senevier did not so much as acknowledge her presence, Talia felt her chest burn as if she had swallowed an ember.
Leaning over the desk, Talia gritted her teeth and spat, “Asros came to see me just now.”
Only then did those deep blue eyes flick up toward her. Talia sneered.
“He claims I am to be married soon.”
“I had no idea Asros took such an interest in you,” Senevier remarked casually, laying down the parchment.
Seeing her mother’s focus linger solely on her brother to the very end, Talia felt an urge to seize whatever was nearby and shatter it. She clutched her skirts, barely suppressing the violent impulse.
“Why must I learn of my own marriage through him? And what is this nonsense about me joining the pilgrimage? What sort of scheme are you plotting?”
“A scheme? What an unpleasant thing to say.”
Senevier let out a light sigh and rose from her seat. For a moment, Talia found herself captivated by the effortless elegance of her mother’s posture, but she quickly narrowed her eyes in suspicion at the faint smile lingering on Senevier’s lips.
Senevier spoke blithely, her tone like that of an innocent young girl.
“It is high time you wed. A proposal came from a suitable match at the right moment, so I merely set things in motion.”
“And is that ‘suitable match’ that snake, Serian or whatever his name was?”
Talia curled her lip, remembering the oily, sickening man who had escorted her at the banquet.
“I take it he’s a man you’ve thoroughly vetted inside and out, Mother?”
“If you are asking whether Serian can perform his duties as a man… yes. He possesses rather remarkable talents in that regard. If you wish it, he will serve you most willingly.”
Talia had intended to mock her mother’s sordid past, but this grotesque counterattack shattered what little composure she had been clinging to. Every word that left Senevier’s mouth felt like a spider crawling over her skin.
Talia shrieked, voice cracking.
“I don’t want that disgusting creature! I would sooner bite off my tongue and die than let a man like that lay a finger on me!”
“Goodness…”
Senevier cradled her cheek, sighing as if overcome with pity.
“Then I shall find you another groom. In fact, I was just narrowing down the list of other worthy candidates.”
She pointed to the parchment resting on the desk. Talia shuddered as she read several names written there. They were all fanatical devotees of Senevier.
Was this woman truly intending to hand off one of the men lusting after her as her daughter’s husband?
Rage and dread churned into a sickening knot in the pit of her stomach.
“I’m not getting married! Don’t play the caring mother now; leave me alone as you always have!”
“Does that mean… you refuse any man who isn’t the heir of Shearkan?”
Struck square in her rawest wound, Talia blanched and recoiled.
The corners of Senevier’s lips curled, her venomous tongue darting out like a viper’s.
“If you wanted him so badly, you should have claimed him by any means necessary. I left that man by your side for seven long years. What on earth were you doing all that time?”
She shook her head, as if looking upon something pitiable.
“Now, the man you coveted will belong to another woman in a matter of months. Are you content to simply stand by and watch?”
Talia’s shoulders shook violently. The realization that Senevier had seen through her every thought was chilling.
Watching her daughter’s pale, stricken face, Senevier slipped the mask of a benevolent mother back on, her voice turning sweet and coaxing.
“Talia, I arranged this solely for you. To offer my precious daughter a way out of her miserable plight.”
Pale, slender fingers brushed gently across Talia’s cheek. It felt like a white serpent gliding over her skin. Talia froze, stiff as if paralyzed.
Senevier peered into her daughter’s terrified eyes, whispering as softly as down.
“You have two paths. One is to seize the man you desire by any means necessary, and the other is to become a slightly less pathetic loser.”
Her mellow voice clung to Talia’s ear like viscous sap.
“I took the former, and I claimed everything I ever wanted. But if you lack the strength to do so, choosing another partner you can settle for and playing the happy victor is an option as well. It is rather pathetic, but if you are doomed to be a loser anyway, isn’t it better to salvage at least your pride?”
Talia tore herself away like a beast wrenching free from a snare.
Senevier offered her daughter a serene smile.
“This journey is the final chance I will grant you. Ponder carefully which path you will take.”
Talia glared at her with venom before bolting from the workshop. A melodic laugh, light as birdsong, trailed after her like a shadow. The sound burrowed into her mind, refusing to fade for a long, agonizing while.
In the end, Talia found herself embarking on the journey alongside the half-siblings who despised her.
Since the Empress’s Palace had provided all the provisions and hands required for the travel, there was nothing she needed to oversee herself. Senevier had even attempted to assign her personal guard and high mages to the escort.
That proposal, however, fell through in the face of Gareth’s vehement objections. The Crown Prince was already incensed at having to travel with a half-sister who was a thorn in his side; he would never brook an order to bring the Empress’s retinue along.
Word had it that Gareth had marched directly to the Emperor, sparking a fierce clash until Senevier’s decree was overturned. For Talia, it was a relief. She had no desire to spend weeks flanked by her mother’s zealots.
‘For my sake? Don’t make me laugh…’
Talia tore at a hangnail, glaring at the servants loading chests onto the carriages.
There was no world in which Senevier would go to such lengths for her daughter’s benefit. She had an angle, without question.
With cold, watchful eyes, Talia took in every servant sent from the Empress’s Palace.
END