64 - Claim
The warmth of the festival lingered on Mariana’s skin long after she left the crowded streets of Luxor.
The laughter, the music, the scent of grilled food—it all clung to her like a fleeting dream she didn’t quite want to wake up from. But reality, as always, waited patiently.
And right now, reality looked like the towering gates of their villa. Mariana slowed to a stop just a few steps away, suddenly very aware of her current appearance.
“Right...” she muttered, glancing down at the maid uniform she was still wearing. “… this might be a problem.”
The guards stationed at the entrance had already noticed her. Naturally. They straightened almost immediately, eyes narrowing with suspicion as she approached. One of them stepped forward, hand resting lightly on the hilt of his sword.
“Halt.” His voice was firm. “State your identity.”
Mariana blinked. “Uh…”
Right. She couldn’t exactly say, “I’m the Grand Princess who snuck out at dawn, committed minor crimes, and may or may not have been cornered by the Crown Prince in a library.”
“I work here...?” she tried weakly.
The guard’s expression did not change. “Which division?”
“The… cleaning division...?”
“Name?”
“I—”
“Stand down.”
The voice cut through the tension like a blade. Calm. Controlled. But carrying a weight that immediately silenced the guards. Mariana froze.
The guards stiffened even more. “Your Highness—!”
Grand Prince Eirwen stepped forward from behind them, his expression composed—too composed. The kind of calm that came right before a storm.
His gaze landed on Mariana. And for a split second, something dangerous flickered beneath that calm. “Inside.” he said simply. No raised voice. No visible anger. Which somehow made it worse.
Mariana swallowed. “Ye-Yes, brother...”
She slipped past the guards quickly, feeling their eyes on her back as she went. Behind her, Eirwen didn’t even spare them another glance. But the tension he left behind was enough to make every guard stand straighter.
The moment the doors of the villa closed behind them, the atmosphere shifted. The warmth of the festival was gone, replaced by something… heavier.
Mariana stood awkwardly in the center of the living room, hands clasped behind her back like a child caught doing something wrong.
Eirwen stood across from her. Silent. Watching. “So...” he said finally. Mariana flinched slightly. “Where,” he continued calmly, “have you been?”
“Outside...?” she offered.
“Outside where?”
“The city...?”
“Doing what?”
Mariana hesitated. “Exploring...?” she said.
Technically true.
Eirwen’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Exploring, huh...” he repeated.
“… yes.”
Silence stretched.
“Alone?” he asked.
“… yes.”
Another pause.
“In a maid uniform?” he added.
Mariana coughed lightly. “Di-Disguise...?”
Eirwen closed his eyes for a brief moment, exhaling slowly as if holding back something. “You disappeared.” he said quietly. “Without informing anyone. In a city currently under heightened security. During a time where we know you are a target.”
Mariana winced. “Whe-When you put it like that…”
“I am putting it exactly as it is.”
She looked down slightly. “So-Sorry...”
Silence again. Longer this time.
Then, “Did anyone approach you?” he asked.
Mariana’s heart skipped. Zafiel’s face flashed in her mind. His voice. His touch. The necklace. “N-No...” she said.
The lie slipped out smoother than she expected. Eirwen studied her carefully. For a moment, she thought he might press further.
But then, his gaze shifted. “What is that?”
Mariana blinked. “What...?”
Eirwen’s eyes were fixed on her neck. On the amethyst spider lily. And suddenly, the air in the room changed.
“This...?” she asked, instinctively touching it.
“Where did you get that?” His voice dropped.
Mariana hesitated. “So-Someone... gave it to me...” she said vaguely.
Eirwen didn’t respond. He stepped closer slowly. His eyes didn’t leave the necklace. And then, he froze completely. “No…” he murmured.
Mariana frowned. “… what?”
But he didn’t answer immediately. Because something clicked. A memory years ago.
He had stood beside their father—Grand Duke Maximus—inside the imperial palace. As heir apparent. Observing. Learning. And there, a painting. A younger woman. Elegant. Untouchable. Wearing that exact same necklace.
“That’s…” his voice went quiet. “That belongs to…”
Before he could finish, the door opened. Grand Duchess Darelene stepped inside.
“Eirwen, I—” She stopped. Her gaze landed on Mariana. Then dropped to the necklace. And for the first time since arriving in Luxor, she froze. “O-Oh…” The word barely left her lips.
Mariana blinked. “Mother...?”
Darelene didn’t answer. Her eyes remained fixed on the amethyst spider lily. Her expression… changed. Not shock. Not confusion. Something deeper. Something closer to fear.
“Whe-Where did you get that...?” she asked quietly.
Mariana hesitated again. “He—I mean, someone gave it to me.”
“Who?”
Silence.
“I-I don’t know...” Mariana said.
Another lie. Darelene didn’t call her out. But she knew. Of course she knew. Because there was only one person who could give something like that.
Her fingers curled slightly. “… I see.”
The room fell into silence. Heavy. Suffocating.
Eirwen finally spoke, voice low. “Mother.”
Darelene nodded faintly. She understood. More than Mariana realized. That necklace wasn’t just jewelry. It was history. It was authority. It was a declaration.
It once belonged to Empress Lilith—when she was still the Crown Princess. And now, it was on Mariana. Which meant only one thing.
“He’s making his move...” Darelene murmured softly.
Mariana blinked. “… what?”
But Darelene simply looked at her. Really looked at her. And in that moment, she didn’t just see her daughter. She saw a girl standing at the center of a storm far bigger than herself.
“Mariana.” she said gently.
“… yes?”
“Hide it.”
“… what?”
“The necklace,” Darelene said, her tone firm now. “hide it as much as possible.”
Mariana frowned. “But I can’t even take it off—”
“Then conceal it.” Her voice left no room for argument.
Mariana hesitated. “… okay…”
Darelene exhaled slowly, then turned. “Eirwen, come with me.”
He didn’t hesitate. “Yes, Mother.”
They both began to walk toward the door.
But just before leaving, Darelene paused. And glanced back at Mariana. “Change into something appropriate.” she said softly. “We will speak again later.”
And then they were gone.
The door closed. Silence returned. Mariana stood alone in the living room. Her fingers slowly lifted to her neck again. To the necklace.
“Wha-What is going on…?" she whispered.
Because now, it wasn’t just confusing. It was… serious.
Outside, in a quiet corridor, Eirwen turned to Darelene immediately. “Mother, that was—”
“I know.” she cut him off.
Her expression was no longer soft. It was sharp. Calculating.
“That necklace…” Eirwen continued, “… it’s the Empress’s—”
“Yes.”
Silence.
“Then this means—”
“Yes.”
Another silence.
He ran a hand through his hair. “That basta—”
Darelene’s gaze hardened slightly. “Watch your words.”
Eirwen exhaled sharply. “He’s claiming her.”
Darelene didn’t deny it. Because that was exactly what it was. A claim.
Public or not—it didn’t matter. Anyone who recognized that necklace would understand. Mariana was no longer just a Grand Princess. She was being positioned as the future Crown Princess.
“He’s moving too fast." Eirwen muttered.
“No,” Darelene said quietly. “… he’s moving exactly as expected.”
Eirwen stilled.
“That boy…” she continued, her voice calm but cold, “… does not hesitate when he wants something.” Her gaze darkened slightly. “And right now…” She looked back toward the room Mariana was in. “… he wants my daughter.”
Silence fell between them. Heavy. Uncertain. Because they both understood what that meant. Not just politically. But personally.
And somewhere deep within the imperial capital, a Crown Prince stood at the center of a growing storm. And a girl, unknowingly, had just been placed right at its heart.