Pipperly took slow, deep breaths to keep calm as she strode through the castle, her back straight, her hands folded neatly in front of her, and her chin tipped up.
The castle itself was grand and gorgeous and mirrored every daydream she had ever imagined when designing its interior. On every wall was an expensive painting or tapestry, often of battle scenes or the Duke’s favored children at various functions or important milestones.
There were also a lot of pure-white banners sporting the royal crest, when, in fact, they should have been teal. There were also a lot of decorative pieces with the Whitehall Crest gracing the walls and even armor and shields of passing knights.
The knights they walked past seemed to do double-takes on occasion, more than a few looking pensive while those older than thirty or so it seemed self-consciously shifted the shoulder guard with the Whitehall crest away from her line of sight.
It seemed her mother, while a bit of a child tyrant, inspired more loyalty in these men than the current Reigning Duke.
She acknowledged no one as she walked, opting to stay silent, even as maids and servants stopped mid-stride of what they were doing to curtsy or bow as was appropriate.
They had no leg to stand on to confront her about her lineage. It was now common knowledge that she slept in the Monarch’s chambers, magically sealed to allow only the descendants of the last sworn Monarch to enter and rest.
Their sights now would be on how many tests she passed.
When she reached the entrance to the throne room, she could hear the rush of voices mixing into an unintelligible mass from behind the giant silver doors. Taelison gave her a glance over his shoulder, swallowing silently and offering her a quick, bracing smile before pressing forward to open the door.
The servant at the door with a clipboard snapped his quill when he looked up to see the newest arrivals, his eyes going as wide as tea saucers as he fumbled to keep hold of his board. He trembled quietly as Pipperly turned her head, meeting his eyes with a relaxed, unaffected expression while her thoughts screamed.
“Pipperly Lenoir,” she recited, as calm and quiet as she could manage with her throat clogging up. Her voice sounded authoritative, at least, if a tiny bit hostile.
The man nodded quickly, taking a heaving breath before turning to the large room that had lowered its volume ever so slightly as the smattering groups of nobles closest to the door noticed the giant silver behemoths cracking open again.
“NOW ANNOUNCING THE ARRIVAL OF LADY PIPPERLY LENOIR-!”
The room fell into a hushed silence, and Pipperly took a final, deep breath before walking into the room. The crowd parted like the Red Sea for her, allowing her plenty of room on either side to stride up to the base of the Throne’s staircase.
To her expectations, Duke Whitehall was smiling with false warmth, his body straight with manners he would never possess when in the presence of his own court.
“Lady Pipperly Lenoir,” he greeted, standing with a muffled huff of breath and striding down the steps with his arms open wide. “On behalf of the Onyx Kingdom, welcome home.”
Pipperly gave a slight nod of her head, keeping her eyes intently on his white-gloved hands as he reached forward to offer his palm up. After a split second, she reached out her own right hand, a delicate touch, and he brought his lips to the back of her hand, the scruff of his goatee making the knuckles of her hand twitch at the sensation.
He stood straight again, smiling with a warmth she didn’t appreciate, the crimson of his eyes glinting at the perceived weakness. His hair, a vivid red color dark enough to rival blood, seemed almost dull in comparison to the rigid circlet of fleur-de-lys lacing the top of a solid band of silver. The Dragon’s Vitality, an aquamarine-colored teardrop gem as tall as a peach and as wide as a plum, was the glowing centerpiece of the beautiful artistry, with six gems running along the crown at each design accordingly.
That was the crown that Clementine wore...
‘Mother... Did she really wear that..?’
Pipperly saw a glint in the light of the crown, hesitating slightly as her arm was suavely looped through the Duke’s and she was led up the stairway.
She had to take hold of her skirts to avoid tripping and keep her eyes forward to keep her panic beneath a lid.
‘Did the gem just.. Wink at me?’
Once they reached the top of the platform, Pipperly looked upon the throne only briefly before darting her eyes to the podium at the left side, sitting at the base of a staircase that lifted into a second-story loft area that wrapped around the entire room with various other sitting rooms shielded by more white curtains. The podium was made of polished black marble, matching the decor of the castle perfectly, and shrouded in a sheet of white fabric.
At the base of the stairway on the right, a mage shrouded in a bright teal cloak with a black curtain hiding his upper face stood, holding the handle of a long silver case. The other side was being held by a purple cloak-bearing, broad-shouldered council member in a matching black shadow mask, whom Pipperly only knew the identity of due to the towering height.
‘The leader of the High Council, Asher Flint, and the man I need to make an ally of as soon as possible.’
They finally reached the center of the platform, and Duke Whitehall turned with her still on his arm and lifted a hand to silence the voices that had lifted into flighty gossip and conversation.
“Today we welcome home a descendant of our beloved Queen Clementine-!”
There was a polite smattering of applause and a few scarce whispers before it died again when he cleared his throat.
“We will be administering the Three Monarch Tests, beginning with the Orb of Kutora-!”
The hall fell into a muted hush, and the Duke gave her a painted, genial smile before motioning for her to go over to the podium on their now right side. It took her a few seconds to extract her arm, and even longer to turn her body and take careful, measured steps to the podium with the sheet.
A serving boy in a pale blonde wig and lavender uniform pulled the sheet away once she was close, and the room burst into a quiet fit of murmurs as the relic was exposed to the public eye.
The orb itself was a cloudy white-grey, something just beyond the surface shifting in the light of the sconces and the giant stained glass window at the back of the throne.
She clenched her hands into tight fists for several seconds before reaching out, knowing she probably wasn’t going to be able to--
‘Oh.’
The ball was big in her grasp and very, very light. She watched, intently, as the smoky inside of the crystal seemed to darken abruptly and polish itself, a glint coming to its surface as it seemed to completely solidify.
“Awesome,” she uttered, mostly by accident as she held it up and peered at it closer to a standing magic crystal lamp. “It’s so shiny..”
She heard a heavy inhale, and was immediately reminded of her current time and place, flushing a little in embarrassment before turning and walking back to Duke Whitehall, doing her best to keep a straight face despite the probably obvious red of her ears.
“The second test?” she asked calmly, doing her best to resist the urge to toss the orb up and down in the air like a balloon. It felt that light, but from personal knowledge, she knew letting it escape her grasp for even a second would make its weight heavy enough to leave a deep divot in the throne-stage flooring.
The Duke’s smile looked stiff, but he wordlessly took the crown off of his head and turned to her with a nod, “Pardon me, then..”
The crown was large, and she felt something cold rush across her scalp before her body shuddered at the invasive feeling.
It felt like someone stepped on her grave.
She stood straight as the feeling on her head lightened to almost nothing, and she hesitantly lifted a hand up to make sure it hadn’t slipped off when she had been briefly unbalanced.
She felt something sharp against her fingertips, her hand jumping back an inch before she hesitantly probed the rest of what felt like a tiara. She pulled it from on top of her head as the voices beneath the platform burst into more talking, hushed whisperings and excited laughter and occasional gasps of shock reaching her ears as she bright the trinket to her face for closer inspection. She cradled the Orb in the crook of her arm to make sure she didn’t needlessly drop it.
The circlet was now a simple, solid silver with its seven gems, the Dragon of Vitality still very much glittering in a teasing, taunting manner.
Two ovular purple gems were the first of six on either side of the teardrop gem, followed by a circular turquoise just a shade darker than the Dragon and finished on either end with a solid blue.
It was gorgeous.
She put the crown back in place, freezing a little when it seemed to adjust itself into her hair to the point that her flyaways were tucked back into the bun.
‘Heh-heh... That’s not creepy at all…’
Duke Whitehall was standing stiffly with his false smile, but with a wave of his hand, the staff case was brought over by the Head Council member and the Grand Mage. The case was opened by Duke Whitehall, who stepped back just as quickly when the staff gave a quiet buzz of warning in response to his close proximity.
‘Not even Duke Whitehall was that ambitious.’
Pipperly took a deep, calming breath.
‘The Orb worked and the crown changed shape.’
‘I’ll.. be.. fine…’
She grasped the staff, lifting it from its case as it crackled loudly and then suddenly went quiet.
‘..That was... Anticli-’
There was a jolt, and she felt her hand go frozen stiff around the staff as she was pushed back several feet, her slipper’s lack of heel the only thing keeping her from flying onto her backside.
She closed her eyes against the harsh light now pulsing from the staff’s orb, bright, blinding white threaded with purple, blue, turquoise, yellow, orange, red, and verdant. Her bangs were being blown back from her face from the sheer power coming from the staff and she could hear the others in the room crying out as they were either pushed back as well or sent sprawling on the ground due to lack of balance.
“My Lady-!”
Taelison’s cry went unheard as Pipperly felt the cold creeping from her hand to her elbow, racing up her arm and shoulder and burrowing into her heart like the worst shot of burning ice water.
Her legs trembled and she grit her teeth, her left eye-watering and closing against a sharp pain before it sharpened and she could see clearly again.
Her next inhale felt deeper, despite her breathing behind labored, her lungs taking more air in while remaining full.
‘I feel so cold.’
Finally, the light died to a simmer, leaving her eyelids burned with the after image while she tried to blink away the discomfort.
She looked at her hand, still gripping the staff in a white-knuckled grasp, and heaved herself back up to standing straight.
‘Dragon, your name is Frayzir, is it not?’
The gem was silent for a moment and then gave her such a lascivious purr.
‘It has been many moons since I’ve heard my True Name. Speak, human. What do you ask of me?’
‘Why don’t we upset the status quo and spook them a bit... We could offer a bit of a decor change..?’
‘White is quite beneath you, I think. What shall we change it to?’
‘Turquoise?’
‘I like your style.’
She lifted the staff, watching impassively as the nobles and servants both struggled to get to their feet, staring at her as if she were the second coming of the messiah.
She smirked.
The staff in her hand pulsed a second time, and she enjoyed how several people flinched in response, but stood dumbfounded as she gripped the tool with both hands and slashed it through the air.
All at once, a ripple of magic shot from the place in the air her staff had marked, sending another frigid wave of energy out, this time giving the room a facelift.
The white banners hanging from the ceilings and walls seemed to ripple into a strong turquoise color, the Whitehall insignia replaced almost instantly with the Onyx Crest.
Winds tore from the movement and banished the dust and grime from every surface in the castle, sending them out of the open doors and windows, often throwing them open at the ends of halls to assist. Pipperly smirked as the wind died down again, feeling herself preen a little as Taelison and Zorion gawked at her blatantly, their uniforms now sporting the Onyx Crest, as well.
“That’s three,” she smiled, twirling the staff a few times like a baton before slinging it over her shoulder and giving a big, megawatt smile to the Duke. “I think a feast is in order, don’t you?”
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