The musty scent of age and history filled Silas' nostrils as he and Celeste followed Mikhail through the grand entrance of the ancient mansion. Intricate tapestries lined the walls; their colors faded, but they were still awe-inspiring in their intricate details. The high ceilings were supported by massive stone columns stretching into darkness, making the space feel cavernous and oppressive.
Look at this place. Celeste thought as her gloved fingers grazed the velvet drapes. It's like something out of a fairy tale. A dark and twisted one. She glanced around, her bright pink eyes narrowing as she caught sight of the servants who lingered nearby. Instead of being entranced by her beauty as she was accustomed to, they stared at her with curiosity, as if she were some exotic creature from a faraway land. This irked her, and she tossed her golden curls over her shoulder with a huff. You'd think they'd have learned some manners.
They continued down the long and maze-like corridors, their footsteps echoing off the cold stone floor until they stepped into an oasis: a lush garden bathed in sunlight, the air filled with the scent of roses and lilacs.
"Here we are," Mikhail announced, gesturing for Celeste and Silas to sit at a wrought-iron table set for tea. The porcelain teacups gleamed in the sunlight, and delicate pastries tempted them from a tiered stand. As they settled down in their seats, the maids stepped forward and poured tea into their expectant cups.
Celeste delicately lifted the delicate porcelain teacup, its intricate patterns dancing elegantly under the soft sunlight. She brought it to her lips, the warmth of the tea brushing gently against her skin before she took a tentative sip. The tea’s soothing warmth cascaded down her throat, spreading a comforting sensation throughout her body. She closed her eyes momentarily, allowing the serene tranquility to envelop her. Her concerns and schemes seemed to drift away in that brief interlude, replaced by an unexpected sense of peace.
Mikhail's smooth and resonant voice gently brought her back to the present. "Is the tea to your liking, Saintess?" he inquired with an air of polite curiosity.
Celeste's eyes fluttered open to meet his gaze, offering him a subtle nod. "Yes, it's wonderful," she replied softly, her voice barely above a whisper, betraying a hint of vulnerability she rarely showed.
She thought, scolding herself inwardly; I can't believe I let my guard down.
Her gaze shifted to Silas, who seemed equally affected by the tea's calming properties. His usually rigid posture had relaxed, his shoulders dropping as if unburdening him of a heavy weight. His eyes, usually so sharp and calculating, now held a softened, almost bewildered look as he peered into his cup.
"This is unlike any tea I have ever had before," Silas remarked, his voice laced with a hint of confusion as if the tea had gently unraveled the tightly wound coils of his inner turmoil.
"It is a family recipe passed down through the centuries," Mikhail responded, a small smile gracing his features. "It is said to have calming properties, to aid in peace and relaxation."
Celeste took another sip, feeling the warm embrace of the tea once again. A pleasant, fuzzy sensation radiated through her, smoothing out the edges of her usual sharp alertness. The tea's comforting embrace washed away the initial unease she had felt at this unexpected vulnerability. She had to concede; she hadn't felt this relaxed in ages.
The realization dawned on her that Mikhail had intentionally chosen this particular tea to lower their defenses, to make them more receptive to whatever inquiries he might have. Despite this understanding, neither she nor Silas could resist the allure of another sip, their bodies seemingly moving of their own accord, seeking the solace the tea provided.
Celeste's gaze swept across the meticulously tended garden, feeling a creeping unease begin to coil in her stomach. The garden, with its vibrant array of flowers and perfectly pruned hedges, radiated an uncanny stillness. The servants, hovering at the edges with eyes that lingered a moment too long on her, added to the growing disquiet. The only other presence was the Duke and Silas and a pervasive, almost supernatural calm that had settled over them since their arrival.
Seeking to disrupt the strange lull, Celeste carefully placed her teacup on the ornate table, its delicate clink breaking the silence. "I had heard that you had a younger brother, your Grace? Will he not be joining us?" she asked, her tone laced with a hint of wariness.
Mikhail's response was amiable, his demeanor unruffled. "He is attending to other duties at the moment. But I am sure he will be disappointed that he was not here to meet you, Saintess."
Celeste's instincts screamed that something was amiss. A shiver of apprehension trailed down her spine, and she caught Silas's eye, recognizing a similar flicker of suspicion in his gaze.
Mikhail's voice cut through their silent exchange. "I would like to offer my apologies, your Holiness," he said, a touch of feigned regret coloring his words.
"For what, your grace?" Silas inquired, his expression guarded.
"For being unable to attend your first visit two days ago. I was informed it was a matter of great importance, yet I was indisposed and could not meet you. I hope your journey back was not overly taxing."
Mikhail's remark, delivered with a sly undertone, did not escape Celeste's notice. She observed him over her teacup, his eyes scrutinizing them from behind his own.
"There is no need for apologies, your Grace. We understand you were unwell, and the journey back to the temple was manageable. As you might know, we have established a new temple in the Elysarra Forest," Silas replied, maintaining his composure.
At the mention of the Elysarra Forest, a fleeting shadow passed over Mikhail's face, almost imperceptible but enough for Celeste to notice. He set his teacup down with measured calm, his fingers absently tracing the hem of his coat.
"Yes, I did hear about your new temple," Mikhail responded, his voice taut with barely concealed tension.
"We were quite taken aback by its beauty upon our arrival. The forest has been under exceptional care. It's so lush and green," Celeste added, her voice dripping with feigned sweetness, an attempt to probe further into Mikhail's guarded facade.
"The forest has been a cherished part of our lineage for generations," Mikhail stated, his voice tinged with a hint of loss. "It was with heavy hearts that we ceded its guardianship at the King's behest." His gaze, icy and penetrating, returned to Celeste. "We recognized its significance to the Church, particularly to you, your Holiness. Your longstanding ambition to sanctify a holy land was not unnoticed." His look towards Silas was pointed, laden with unspoken knowledge.
Silas, seizing the moment to steer the conversation, interjected, "The Elysarra Forest's rich history made it an ideal choice. It is, after all, where the revered Elysarra vanquished darkness. A fitting ground, we thought, for a temple and the Saintess's residence."
Celeste felt a shiver as Silas spoke of the ancient battle, the forest's air thick with the echoes of a time when legends walked the land.
Mikhail's attention momentarily shifted to the silent servants before returning to his guests. Speaking softly, he said, "Your Holiness speaks truthfully. Our library contains many texts containing detailed accounts that the forest was the stage of that great final conflict. A testament to the victory of light over shadow. And thus, I do not doubt it will become a sacred sanctuary under your stewardship."
He paused, his gaze wandering to the lush greenery that enveloped them. "While the transformation of Elysarra Forest may not elicit our enthusiasm," he continued, his voice steady, "we still hold dominion over Zandel Forest." His eyes met Silas's, a subtle hardness in their depths. "Of course, any foray into its depths requires my consent. And whatever is unearthed therein is subject to our jurisdiction."
Silas, adept at reading between the lines, understood Mikhail's implication. The Duke knew the Holy Knights' recent excursion into Zandel. Maintaining his composure, he replied, "We fully acknowledge and respect the sovereignty you hold over your lands, Duke Mikhail." Silas replied, choosing his words carefully.
The serene garden around them, filled with the vibrant hues of meticulously tended flowers and the gentle murmur of a nearby fountain, stood in stark contrast to the brewing tension.
Silas leaned forward, the folds of his richly embroidered robes rustling softly. "Forgive my intrusion into personal matters, Your Grace, but there's growing concern within the court. The precedent set by previous Dukes marrying at a young age is well-known, and your continued bachelorhood, along with Lord Belmont's, has raised eyebrows."
Mikhail's brows knitted together, a slight crease forming on his forehead, clearly taken aback by the abrupt shift in topic. "Is my personal life now a matter of state concern?" he asked, his voice laced with a hint of irritation.
Silas maintained a calm demeanor, his hands clasped in front of him. "The continuity of the Ducal lineage is a pillar of our kingdom's stability," he explained, his tone carrying the weight of his position. "In some instances, the royal court has been known to intervene in matrimonial matters of noble families. It would be most unfortunate if the Duke of such a venerable house were subjected to such directives, given your family's tradition of marrying for love."
Mikhail's gaze grew distant momentarily as if lost in thoughts far removed from the manicured gardens around them. "Your point is well taken, High Priest," he replied, his tone now edged with frost. "Rest assured, the future of the Aster lineage is not something we take lightly."
Celeste watched the exchange, her mind calculating the undercurrents of this conversation. With a nod, Silas acknowledged Mikhail's response, though his eyes betrayed a glimmer of something more sinister.
As the tension in the garden thickened, Celeste's eyes shifted towards the Duke's butler, who had been standing at a distance. She could see that the man's eyes darted toward the sky as if expecting something to fall from the heavens at any moment. At that moment, Mikhail's voice cut through the silent atmosphere again.
"But let us not concern ourselves with such matters. Please allow me to show you our library. I am sure the Saintess will appreciate the collection," he said, his voice resuming its previous amiable tone.
Celeste exchanged a glance with Silas, who nodded in assent. They rose from their seats and followed the Duke through the garden back into the mansion.
As they meandered through the grand corridors of the Aster estate, Celeste couldn't help but marvel at the splendor surrounding her. It was all vastly different from the rustic look of the grand entrance. Each room they passed was a testament to refined elegance and historical grandeur, adorned with rich tapestries, gleaming chandeliers, and meticulously crafted furniture. Ornate paintings and sculptures graced the halls, each telling a tale of the Aster lineage.
The library itself was equally impressive. It was a colossal space; from its high, vaulted ceilings hung golden mobiles that formed the shape of celestial bodies.
Immense bookshelves crafted from dark mahogany lined the walls from floor to ceiling. Each was filled with books of every size, their spines creating a kaleidoscope of colors and textures. Several towering ladders on wheels were positioned along the shelves, their brass fixtures gleaming in the soft light that filtered through the tall stained-glass windows.
Long, polished wooden tables dominated the center of the room, their surfaces smooth and inviting. Each table was paired with plush, high-backed chairs upholstered in deep sapphire velvet, offering a comfortable haven for readers.
As they entered, Theo approached Mikhail and whispered something in his ear. Mikhail turned toward Silas and Celeste and gestured towards the shelves. "I have a quick matter to attend to, so feel free to peruse our collection, your Holiness. I'm sure you'll find some texts of interest. And if there's anything specific you'd like to read, just let our librarian, Frederic, know, and he'll be happy to retrieve it for you." Mikhail strode out of the library with a bow, followed by Theo. Celeste and Silas exchanged glances before going to the shelves, perusing the titles for anything that caught their eye. They had been there for only a few minutes when they heard footsteps approaching from behind. Turning around, they saw a tall man with a shock of deep black hair dressed in a dark suit and bow tie.
"Good afternoon, your Holiness and Saintess," he said, his voice deep and resonant. "My name is Frederic, and I am the librarian here at the estate. Is there anything specific you are looking for?"
Celeste nodded, her eyes scanning the shelves. "Do you have any texts on the history of the Elysarra Forest? Particularly any that detail the legends surrounding Elysarra and Elirius?"
Oliver smiled, his eyes showing a bit of confusion. "We do have several texts on the subject, all quite fascinating. But I am sure the Church has a better selection of texts regarding the two God siblings."
"Yes, but I was interested in reading about their final battle."
"Of course, Saintess. Please follow me this way." He led them to a corner of the library, where several rows of thick tomes were arranged on a shelf.
As Celeste perused the titles, she could sense Silas's eyes on her, studying her every move.
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