12. The Manipulating Fiend
12
The Manipulating Fiend
S hortly after Cyrus departed, a knock sounded at the door.
Astoria opened the door hesitantly, expecting him, but it was only her new handmaiden carrying a food tray. Astoria welcomed her in and was surprised to find Skylar at her heels. He jumped away from her when she bent down to scoop him up out of habit.
Princess! I told you!
Astoria remembered his humiliation before Spyrah and smirked a little before straightening up. She looked out of the room and spotted Spyrah watching her from the sitting room. Spyrah dipped her chin in acknowledgement and Astoria returned it, her amusement increasing, before she closed the door.
The maid introduced herself as Emily. As Astoria helped herself to the meal she brought, Emily drew a bath for her in the washroom. Skylar complained about Spyrah while he ate his portion of the meal and continued even as Astoria rose and followed Emily into the washroom.
When she stepped inside and learned that it was Cyrus’ washroom too, she tuned out of Skylar’s rants and focused her eyes and ears on the door that assumedly connected to his room. Emily helped her out of her travel gown. Only when she was safely in the bathtub did she relax and take notice of her surroundings.
Her breath caught.
It was the most beautiful and luxurious washroom Astoria had ever seen. There was even a pool, sprinkled with rose petals, in the middle. The walls were sea blue, and the ceiling—Astoria gasped at the sight of blue sky and white clouds. But with one look, she realized it was an illusion.
Did Cyrus do this for her? Because she would bet on anything that it was black and lavender-grey before. Did he want to impress her?
Astoria immediately shut down her awe—as hard as it was—and focused solely on her bath. Every single detail around her was a wonder, but she wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction.
Whatever game he was playing this time, he wasn’t going to win.
This was her moment. Her turn for games and victories.
Skylar was still ranting. Astoria listened to him occasionally and responded when he allowed her space to talk. But mostly, he did all the talking, so he didn’t realize she was tuning in and out as she interacted with Emily.
After the bath, Emily helped her into a comfortable gown from Astoria’s own collection and sat her in front of the dressing table. When the girl began to dry her hair with a towel, Astoria summoned the wind to her fingertips and let the breeze play with her hair.
She met Emily’s astonished face in the mirror and smiled. Emily composed herself, apologized for her shock, and smiled back.
“May I ask something, Your Highness?” she asked hesitantly.
“Anything I have an answer for,” Astoria replied.
“Are you—are you the Princess of Daliston who challenged all her suitors in magical duels in order to win her hand in marriage?”
Astoria nodded.
Emily’s eyes lit up, and she clasped her hands over her mouth. “I knew it—I knew it from the moment His Majesty said Your Highness is the princess of Daliston! The others refused to believe me, but I was sure. Now I can tell them—oh, does this mean His Majesty was in Daliston these days to participate in your duel?”
Astoria’s face dropped at the reminder of their duel. Emily’s face turned ashen, and she began a flurry of apologies. “Your Highness, pardon me, I shouldn’t—”
“Relax, Emily, you’re not in trouble.” Astoria gave the girl an assuring smile in the mirror. “Yes, the Emperor was in Daliston to participate in the duel for my hand—though it’s not like how you think it is. I shall leave the honor to the Emperor himself to disclose the story to you all.”
Because Astoria was too tired to relive that moment again. Now that she thought about it, a new thought popped into her mind, adding a new layer of hatred towards her husband.
He had humiliated her in front of her people.
To them, she was bested by a mere street performer. A practical beggar. She only hoped that when Cyrus established the truth, her people would hear it and realize she wasn’t bested by someone so beneath her, but one who was really—
She stopped. Oh, he wasn’t great at all. Great was just in his title. He was a monster.
Emily fixed her hair, not opening her mouth unless it was necessary, and led Astoria back to her room. Skylar was on the bed. Astoria joined him and lay down as Emily moved about the room, emptying her luggage and arranging the items in their new places.
“Your Highness, where do you wish me to keep this?”
Astoria glanced over and saw Emily holding a rectangular box in her hands, covered with violet wrapping paper.
Violet wrapping paper.
Astoria sat up immediately and asked Emily to bring it to her. Her fingers untied the white thread, parted the covers, and revealed an elegant box. Her heart raced. It had to be from Emmett. The violet paper was his favorite for wrapping.
Astoria opened the box. There was a sealed letter inside, and a green drawstring bag, one that fit the box’s size. Astoria didn’t dare open it until she read the letter.
The moment her eyes landed on ‘My dearest Storie,’ ’ her vision clouded over.
Do you remember the time we visited Emora? You were only ten and you refused to leave my side to play with Silas and the Emoran Princes in their silly games. On one of those days, you told me you missed home and that I smelled like home, that you didn’t wish to leave my side. Thus, you saved me from the noble girls who tried to flirt with me. You said the same thing when we visited Feren as well, and when we accompanied Grandpa to one of his tournaments in Arden.
It’s nearing midnight now, and I am thinking about those times because things may change tomorrow as you travel to your husband’s hometown. Heavens, Stor, I cannot believe you are married now. I know this isn’t what we both wanted for you, but no matter what we did to prevent this, it has come to this. And I believe in you, little one, that you can do this. Whatever life throws in your paths, you will fight them like you fought all your other suitors. And this time you will not lose, because I promise to be right by your side when you are near, and in heart and soul when you are away.
I know this journey is only for a week, but I am dead set on convincing Father to let me come with you. If you are reading this and I made it to accompany you, do come and tease me about my gift. It’s a silly one. I thought that if I truly smelled like home to you all those years ago when we were away from home, you should carry my signature perfume with you. So, if I end up unable to come with you, I hope it will help with your homesickness and missing me, even though it will be only for a week.
I should really stop and go back to bed. I have no idea why I am writing this ‘note’ like an actual letter. You would be back within a week.
Until then, I will miss you terribly, and I promise to count the days till we see each other again.
Always your loving brother,
Emmett.
Astoria rarely cried. But by the time she finished her brother’s letter, tears streamed down her face. She missed him already, and thinking about him broke her heart.
If only she could let him know what had happened to her rather than Cyrus’ note…
Princess! The note! That’s it! You can send Prince Emmett a letter like you and the Emperor did back that day after the duel!
Astoria glanced at Skylar with gratitude and asked Emily to get her an enchanted quill and a few parchments. She paced the length of her room in anticipation until Emily returned with them.
Emily asked her hesitantly if she was alright. Astoria told her the letter was from her brother—she didn’t want her to think it was from a lover—and that she was going to write him back. She commanded her not to tell this to the Emperor.
Astoria wrote the letter, folded it, slipped it into an envelope, wrote Emmett’s name on it, and sealed it with wax—in case it fell into the wrong hands. Then she closed her eyes and held the letter in her palms.
Why isn’t it going?
Astoria opened her eyes at Skylar’s question and tried again. She concentrated hard, but the letter still sat in her palms. She opened her eyes in frustration and tried again and again, only to fail.
I don’t understand. She stared at the letter incredulously. Why can’t I send it?
Do you think it’s because of the distance? We are at least a thousand miles away from Daliston, Skylar said.
Should that be a problem? This is magic .
How about you ask him, then? Skylar suggested.
Astoria slapped the letter on the table and stood. Forget ever asking for his help!
You are not asking his help, Princess. Just ask him why you cannot send a letter via magic. We are in his palace, after all.
No. No, I’m not going to talk with him. Especially not about magic. Astoria walked back to the bed and lay down. For now, I just want to sleep. Tomorrow, we will start exacting our revenge.
Just what do you have in mind?
Foretelling’s whisper, Sky: you are going to love it. Astoria smiled wistfully and let herself be dragged into sleep.
When she opened her eyes again, the sun was hanging low in the sky, filling the room with a soft, orange glow. Astoria sat up, and after a moment of confusion, she regained the memories of earlier that day.
When it was time for dinner, Emily came to dress her, but Astoria refused and asked to be served in her room instead. After the meal, she tried sending the letter to Emmett again. Each time she failed, her frustration grew, and she reread his letter over and over like it was her lifeline.
A knock sounded at her door.
Astoria almost called out for the person to enter, thinking it was Emily when she realized the knock came from the interconnecting door to Cyrus’ room. She rose to her feet immediately.
“What?” she snapped.
“I just wanted to check on you,” Cyrus’ voice answered from the other side of the door.
“Do you check on all your prisoners? Heavens, they must feel lucky.” She snorted.
“My prisoners are not kept in fancy rooms, let alone next to mine with an interconnecting door. Nor are they given delicious food from my table or granted the freedom to walk around the palace as they wish.” He paused and asked, with an edge to his voice, “Where does that leave you, Astoria? Still my prisoner?”
Astoria fumbled with her response, her mind trying to digest and register his words. Did he just imply that she could go around the palace as she wished? What was he trying to do?
When her response was delayed, he added, “I didn’t see you at dinner.”
“Well, the whole point of not showing up was to avoid you.” She rolled her eyes.
“Didn’t I already know that?” he asked sarcastically. “Clara informed me that you asked to be served in your room. I simply thought to check on you. If you wish not, I shall leave you to yourself.”
Ask him!
Astoria met Skylar’s gaze with narrowed eyes. Of course not! He doesn’t need his ego boosted.
No, clinging to your pride isn’t worth Prince Emmett’s devastation over you either.
Astoria’s heart ached at his words. She closed her eyes and took a determined breath. Alright. For Emmett and Emmett alone.
“Wait!” she called out as Cyrus’ footsteps began to leave.
He stopped. “Yes?”
She clenched her fists and forced out her words. “Why can’t I send a letter?”
“I beg your pardon?” Cyrus’ footsteps shifted closer to the door.
Skylar gave her a deadpan look. Couldn’t you try to speak a little more clearly, Princess? Now you have to repeat the question.
Astoria reprimanded herself mentally and tried again. “I tried to send my brother a letter like you and I did on the first day. It didn’t work. I want to know why.”
There was a beat before he spoke. “Nothing magical can come in or go out of my palace without my knowledge. I have a protection barrier around the castle walls to prevent that. That’s why your letter didn’t go.”
And he was implying that he was her only option. At least he didn’t reprimand her. Not that she would have cared.
“So, to send the letter, I have to go outside the castle walls?”
“You are not leaving the walls,” he said firmly, the tone of his voice leaving no room for argument.
Astoria rolled her eyes. “You just proved I am your prisoner.”
“You are not.”
“Then let me out.”
“No.”
“Fine, then. Get lost.”
Princess! Skylar called her in admonishment. Swallow your pride!
Astoria narrowed her eyes at him. You swallow your pride around Spyrah first!
Skylar’s small face scrunched up in clear annoyance, and his eyes sharpened in a glare.
Cyrus’ chuckle reached her through the door. “Goodnight, Little Dragon. Dream of me.”
She lifted her eyes to the ceiling. “Bad night, Big Dragon. Dream of me escaping your prison.”
He laughed. He laughed!
Aggravating man! He was going to be the end of her. But before it came to that, she would bring him to his knees like the prophecy said.
* * *
The next morning greeted Astoria with the first wave of homesickness. She tossed and turned in her bed, her mind full of thoughts about Emmett and what he might be thinking and doing right now. When her grandpa heard about this, he would go paranoid too. Perhaps Silas as well, given that they were in good condition before she left.
The king and Marcia would mourn her loss, only because they had lost her to their enemy; she had been their only weapon against him.
Then there was Jasper. While she didn’t want to think about him, she wondered how he would react when he learned what happened to her. This was partially his fault, after all.
How about we focus on blaming you right now, huh?
Astoria turned to Skylar’s sleepy voice; he was curled on the couch. He continued, For leaving your brother to his worries this long when you could’ve smoothed it over last night if you had—
Skylar, I told you—
Forget about my grudge against that spoiled Panda Princess. I’m not the one with a frantic brother back home worried about me. You are my only family, Astoria. I have no one I should be worried about, but you do!
The ache in Astoria’s heart throbbed. Oh, she wanted to comfort her brother. She so badly wanted to, but seeking Cyrus’ help was—
If you don’t do this now, don’t say I didn’t warn you when your brother shows up at the castle gates with an entourage of Daliston guards. You don’t want to bring him here, Princess. Write another letter and remind him briefly of the prophecy, and he will stay back, sending prayers to the Creator for you.
Astoria pondered his words and hated that they made sense from every angle. The last thing she wanted was Emmett showing up at the castle gates, demanding the Emperor return her. Knowing her brother and the lengths he would go for her, she knew he would come to Draken if she didn’t stop him now.
She sighed. Fine. I’m only doing this for the love of my brother.
Whatever, I know I am the one who convinced you. Skylar gave a small shrug, his rounded shoulders rising briefly. A smug look entered his eyes.
Astoria rolled her eyes and wrote a new letter. After having breakfast in her room, she got ready with Emily’s help to see Cyrus. Once she was dressed, she reconsidered her choices and thought about sending the letter to him through Emily instead, along with a note of her own—or better yet, sending it to him via magic, since only external magic was disabled—but at Skylar’s pointed look, she stopped the thought.
And shot him a sheepish smile. She was merely trying to annoy him.
Skylar rolled his eyes.
Emily told her that Cyrus could be found in his study at this time, and Astoria asked her to lead the way. When they reached the black double doors that were surprisingly unguarded, Astoria dismissed her maid and took a deep breath. Then she banged.
“Who is it?” Cyrus’ sharp voice cut through the door.
Astoria smiled in satisfaction. Instead of answering, she opened the door and let herself in. The fierce look on Cyrus’ face softened briefly, just before it turned into one of annoyance.
“Astoria.” He ran a hand over his face and through his hair. “Really?”
Astoria couldn’t help her smirk as she walked towards his large ebony desk. “Number one, that’s my infamous knock. Number two, this room is suffocating. Number three, I want to send this letter to my brother Emmett.”
She slammed the letter on his table.
“Number four, you look beautiful,” Cyrus said. The annoyance drained from his face, but his expression remained somber. He leaned back in his chair, tilted his head, rested his chin on his fist, and stared at her. “Number five, you have to ask nicely.”
Merely seeing him was off-putting enough—but for Emmett… Astoria sighed inwardly.
A smirk tugged at his lips. He enjoyed making her squirm, didn’t he? Wait until she got back at him.
Astoria clenched her jaw and fists before gritting out as politely as she could, “Please.”
Cyrus made a faux-disapproving expression. “No. Try again. The full sentence.”
Tell me why I shouldn’t strangle this man right now. She telepathed to Skylar, wherever he was.
Skylar’s snicker filled her mind. Because he’s your only option to send the letter to your brother to comfort him and stop him from coming here.
Right.
Astoria straightened her already straight posture and lifted her chin. “I want you to help me send this letter to my brother, please.”
Cyrus’ smirk bloomed. “You are desperate, aren’t you?”
She glared at him. “Unlike you, I have a brother I love back home, literally going out of his mind with worry for me as I speak right now.”
Cyrus stared at her, and the longer he did, the more his smirk softened into a smile. “You do love your brother, don’t you?” Before she could respond, he added, “I would like to read your letter first.”
He began to reach for her letter, but Astoria snatched it back. “You will not cross into my privacy!”
He shrugged. “Then you are wasting my time.”
“You are such a fiend!”
“And you are so childish.”
“Oh yes, congratulations on that .” Astoria let out a cold laugh. “You have married a child trapped in an eighteen-year-old girl’s body.”
As soon as she said that, she remembered Silas telling her the same words over a year ago. Fuelled by the recollection, she broke the seal, unfolded the letter, and began to read.
“My dearest Emmett, I miss you so much already. Yes, as you have probably found out by now, my street performer ‘husband’ turned out to be the Emperor in disguise. I want you to be assured that I am alive, unharmed, and healthy, if not well, safe, and happy. My temporary prison, though not as bad as the dungeons back home, is so dark and bathed in boring elegance. Everywhere I look, there is at least one black thing. Just like the heart of the man who owns this place.
“He is a monster, a dark, manipulative fiend. He is arrogant, calculating, deceitful, egotistical, overbearing, imperious, haughty, vain, cunning, malevolent, callous, heartless… oh brother, I could go on and on, and it would not be enough to describe him. Worst of all, he bears the title of my husband. He believes that his power and title give him the right to toy with people’s lives, and I am now a pawn in his twisted game.
“But be assured, my brother, he cannot break me, because I draw strength from the thought of you. I know you worry, and I hate to be the cause of your distress, but I promise you, I will make you proud in the end. Until then, often think of me and send me your courage through the stars. I love you to the number of the stars. Always your sister, Storie.”
Astoria lowered the letter from her face and met his gaze with a neutral expression. “Satisfied?” She folded the letter back and slipped it into the envelope.
Cyrus had a hand over his mouth, trying and failing to smother his smile. Astoria narrowed her eyes at him, forcing him to fight his amusement hard. He cleared his throat and held out his hand for the letter. “Very much. Since it’s all about me.”
If he realized what she read was fake, he didn’t question it.
“Do you promise to send it to my brother?” she asked him like one would ask a child if he promised not to climb trees again.
He raised a perfect, dark eyebrow. “Why don’t you see for yourself?”
Astoria eyed him skeptically but let him take the letter.
“Do you want me to seal it?”
“If you have a plain seal, yes.”
Cyrus opened the drawer and searched for a plain seal, sparing her a glance. “Remind me to make you a seal of your own, Empress Astoria.”
He gave her a teasing smirk. Astoria’s heart constricted hearing her new title, but she rolled her eyes at him.
Cyrus sealed the letter and closed his eyes, not before giving her a wink, which did strange things to her insides.
Astoria forced her eyes to stay on the letter in his palms rather than his face, noticing the way his eyebrows furrowed as he concentrated and how his unfairly long eyelashes brushed below his eyes. But she failed. At that moment, he looked more human than she had ever seen him.
Then she remembered the way he had looked at her on their wedding day when she walked down the aisle to him.
Her heart accelerated. He had looked even more human then than now. But what made him look like that when he stared at her, she had no idea.
Astoria snapped out of her thoughts as his eyelashes fluttered and opened. She was quick to drop her gaze to his now-empty palms so he didn’t catch her watching him—thankfully.
“There, now. Your precious letter has been sent to your precious brother.” Cyrus dusted off his hands.
Astoria eyed him. “How do I know you didn’t simply send the letter somewhere else in this palace and not to my brother?”
“You don’t,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone and smirked as she huffed. “Your only option is to trust me.”
“My trust is the last thing you will ever have,” she snapped and turned on her heels to storm out of the room.
“By the way, your coronation is in a week. I’m about to send out the invitations to my court and my vassal kings. Oh, and the royal seamstress will see you today after lunch to take your measurements. I don’t know about you, but I am quite eager to announce our marriage to the continent.”
He gave her that annoying smirk.
“Yes, you already rambled about how you long to flaunt me as your wife yesterday. I have no desire to hear it again.” She shot him one last glare over her shoulder and stomped out of the study, with the perfect scheme for revenge in her mind.
The first of many.
That night, when Cyrus came to their interconnected door and wished her good night, repeating the same words as the last two nights, Astoria opened the door and shot him a sweet smile.
“Bad night, Big Dragon. Dream of flowers.”
She shut the door on his baffled face, biting her lip to keep from grinning too broadly.