Page 7

H ellebore was surrounded by a fleet of serving girls and seamstresses—headed up by Phoebe and Elaine—after being woken up at the crack of dawn on her wedding day to begin preparations. This time, however, she was content to let them do whatever they wished so long as they did not disturb the Chymesian to Iubian dictionary in her hand. Since being woken up, she'd been refreshing herself to hopefully make conversations smoother, but she still had a while to go before she could be considered fluent.

Hellebore felt nothing but the smooth pages beneath her fingertips. There was nothing but calm acceptance. She was many things, but she was not going to rage or mourn in futility. Her fate was sealed. Better to get on with it.

Hellebore flipped a page, causing the seamstress on her right to prick her and chide her right as the door opened and all the girlish chatter ceased. Hellebore lifted her eyes from her page to see the female elf from before, the one wearing the royal pattern, King Taiyo's sister, Hellebore presumed. They looked alike, both having that warm, amber-toned skin, brown eyes, and black hair that faded into orange. She had an elfling on her hip as she stood in the doorframe, a stern, commanding presence despite the baby trying to take her necklace and stick the rubies in his mouth to drool on.

Hellebore had not spent much time with babies in Chymes, but it was nice to see that there were at least some similarities in the way babies conducted themselves across species.

“Your Highness,” the servants and seamstresses murmured as she strode into the room.

Hellebore kept her arm holding her book aloft, given the number of pins in the sleeve that was currently being sewn together while on her.

Like politics, decorum had never been Hellebore's area either, so since she hadn't been given a formal introduction to Taiyo’s sister, she was unsure what the expectation was.

“Alchemist, my brother has been unexpectedly occupied this morning, so I took it upon myself to facilitate our introduction.”

Hellebore was lucky the translation for “facilitate” was on the page she had open.

“I am Princess Haruko, His Majesty's older sister, your soon-to-be sister-in-law.” The way Haruko said it made it clear she did not find that to be a cause for celebration.

Was there anybody in Iubar who was excited about the union? Why had King Taiyo wanted her hand in the first place?

“Lovely to make your acquaintance. You already know who I am, so now we are on equal ground.”

Princess Haruko stepped farther into the room, the maids scattering to get out of her way. She looked at the seamstresses and said, “Continue on, we cannot delay.”

The seamstresses obeyed and continued sewing Hellebore into the dress.

Haruko came to a stop in front of Hellebore, just behind the seamstresses, and took her in. Haruko and Taiyo both weren't as tall as some of the other elves, but both were taller than Hellebore and the average human.

Her eyes landed on the book in Hellebore's hand and she raised an eyebrow. “My brother said your Iubian was subpar.”

Hellebore's fingers curled in tighter on the dictionary. Oh, had he?

“His Chymesian has room for improvement. Actually, his communication in either language leaves a lot to be desired.”

There were a few stifled gasps from the serving girls who had been trying very hard to make it seem like their pointed ears couldn’t hear anything more than an inch away from them.

“Still, it is a pleasant surprise to see you deigning to improve your skills in our tongue. Not what I expected from someone like you.”

“Right. Because a human alchemist would have no interest in learning anything,” Hellebore sneered.

“I meant a relation of Palladia.”

Hellebore knew her aunt had met King Taiyo twenty-five years ago, and knowing now his age and the corresponding development of elves, Taiyo had been incredibly young for a king. Clearly her aunt had not left a favorable impression on Taiyo's sister either. But what could her aunt have done to give such a specific impression? She was an alchemist; the pursuit of knowledge was in their blood.

“Is there anything I can help you with, Princess? I'm a little busy today,” Hellebore said, pointedly looking at the seamstresses around her and lowering her voice. “Who knew marrying a king would be such an ordeal?”

The elfling on Haruko’s hip successfully got the chain of the necklace into his gummy, toothless mouth, and Hellebore hoped she hadn't been planning on wearing it for the ceremony.

“I am here to make things crystal clear to you since my brother is far kinder than I am.”

Taiyo was supposed to be the kind one?

Hellebore couldn't help her snort, but Haruko ignored her and pressed on. “You are a necessary evil. You are—”

“A human. Worse, an alchemist. Thank you so much for reminding me.” Hellebore’s lips twitched into a sardonic grin, but she was completely empty on the inside. “Spending the night here and wearing your people’s clothes made me almost forget I’m not an elf.”

Strangely enough, Haruko wasn’t charmed. She adjusted her grip on her baby and stepped closer. “Don't get smart with me.”

“If my aunt and my reputation precede me, then you know I can't be anything less. I'm a most accomplished alchemist.” At least, Hellebore would maintain she was publicly even if no one else agreed.

“You are here to serve a purpose. You might wear the title of queen for a brief, fleeting moment, but you will not last. You will be a footnote, not a legacy.”

Hellebore glanced at the elfling and nodded. “And I take it I am looking at the one who will be carrying on the royal line if you have your way? He is a full-blooded elf, right?”

“Your pride over your own ignorance is a particularly appalling trait, but I should have expected as much from one of your kind. You do know Queen Idonea of the Star Elves will be in attendance today?”

Hellebore had heard the news of the Star Elf king getting married recently, but what it had to do with her marriage, she didn’t know. It did grate against her skin though that apparently it was something she was supposed to know and that it was relevant to Haruko but she had no idea how.

“Queen Idonea is only half-elf.” Haruko hefted her son up higher on her hip. “You don't know anything about me, my opinions, or what way I would have if I could. Your marriage to my brother will not last long.”

Even if Hellebore maintained perfect health, their marriage would only last about sixty years, giving Taiyo a little more than half of his remaining lifetime to be free from her.

“Look, Princess, stop stating obvious facts.” Hellebore turned slightly, facing Haruko fully as best she could without earning the seamstresses’ ire. “Sarcasm aside, we have a very important wedding happening in a few hours despite how much we both wish otherwise.”

Haruko’s voice was as stiff and cold as steel. “You almost killed my brother once already.”

Were they ever going to let that go?

“It was an accident . I was sedating him.” Hellebore huffed, rolling her eyes and getting stabbed in the shoulder when she moved, tilting her head and adding, “And I saved him, by the way, too, but that doesn't fit in your neat little narrative about evil alchemists.”

“Don't hurt him again.”

Then Princess Haruko tugged the chain of her necklace out of her baby's mouth and swept away toward the door. She paused by the nightstand where Hellebore had placed the iris so it sat in the sunlight.

However, she said nothing in acknowledgment and just walked out of the room.

Hellebore lifted her chin and let the seamstresses finish sewing her into her wedding dress.

Good. The shallow fits and spurts of frustration hadn’t overtaken her. Not even her combative future sister-in-law had broken the pervasive numbness she’d shrouded herself in.