Under the guise of welcoming Emeria and Delilah into the palace, a letter was sent out to all of the ladies in the palace. Everyone with any knowledge of politics knew it would be far more than rude to refuse such an invitation. But if anything were to make someone sick at such a gathering, the host would be blamed without an escape or viable excuse. This was different than a regular tea time in the palace. It was equivalent to a party. It was their first.

Thus, Emeria could gage that the food and drink would be safe, just this once. If Ariana wanted a swift fall from the top, she’d do something more than word games. She was testing them for now. It was to understand and learn of the enemy, nothing more, not yet.

So, here she was, hand in hand with her daughter, at Queen Ariana's welcome gathering.

Eyeing the wolfsbane in the center of the flowers, Emeria sat down next to Jizelle, who had saved the seats next to her. They were the farthest from the Queen, and it was by design of the mistresses, trying to send a message back. Of course, Ariana herself didn’t care, so long as her own message got through to the newest lady and her daughter. There wasn’t just flowers on the Queen's mind, but putting a few which had connotated meanings closer to death and danger had certainly made her feel more at ease.

The white roses were an extra little nudge. Especially since it was clear Emeria had slept with a man outside of marriage vows. It was an old meaning hidden in the dry white roses, but both Ariana and Emeria knew the depth of meaning in all the flowers displayed on the table. It wasn’t like Emeria hadn’t read books on plants. It wasn’t entirely unexpected, at least in her mind, to see a few flowers known for being popular at funerals. Unfortunately, that was to be their relationship. Like two sprouted seeds fighting for the same space, the same nutrients. Only one would grow to become a tree, beating out the competition. Whoever it would be was yet to be determined.

One of them flourished, sprouting leaves upon leaves.

The other grew deep roots, taking in the soil before the sun.

It was evident who had the upper hand, and it was blindingly obvious that someone would want to change that, at least, in Emeria's eyes it was.

Delilah sat, looking over the flowers with interest and then with concern as she also recognized the wolfbane and red spider lilies from the book they’d kept in their house. She nudged her mother and uttered a small whisper when she leaned closer.

“She doesn’t like us, does she?”

Letting out a quiet sigh, Emeria gave an equally quiet reply.

“Maybe she just likes colorful flowers.”

Rather than what was expected of her, Delilah sat up, hands in her lap, patiently, displaying posture and a dignified presence that wasn’t usually found in children. It was the result of all those times Delilah played tea party with her mother back in their village. Of course, none of the ladies nor Ariana knew of how they’d lived their lives, so seeing it brought a flurry of reactions. Delight. Surprise.

Smiles.

Many of the ladies gave little exclamations of joy, voicing praise, which brought a smile to their little Princess’s face. Seeing it only made the glee around the table grow. Emeria glanced toward the other end of the table, seeing Ariana’s eyes narrow and sharpen on Delilah’s movements.

When one comment flew in that Emeria had raised her daughter with exceptional manners, Ariana couldn’t stay quiet any longer.

“Even in fallen noble households daughters don’t raise their children alone. Perhaps Lady Emeria had help.”

Gazes drew to the woman at the end of the table, the Queen. It was a bold remark, one that few would dare to say aloud, especially before the person in question. Though, had Emeria walked into the palace with Delilah and her parents, Ariana wouldn’t have said such a thing. She wasn’t just insinuating that Emeria was kicked from her family, but that maybe the help she received was questionable.

A lover in her life, perhaps?

“Your Majesty, we don’t know the status of Lady Emeria’s family,” Jizelle said firmly, steering the conversation to just one of the barbs thrown down the table, the safer of the two.

After all, if Emeria herself was an orphan with no parents, regardless of social standing, that comment would do more than wound one name. Queen Ariana would have to backtrack on those words if she wanted to save face. Not that she truly cared, about Delilah or Emeria.

“Don’t get me wrong, ladies,” Ariana replied soothingly. “I’m merely surprised at the etiquette of the outer villages in the kingdom, considering these actions are befitting of a noble family.” As usual, the Queen held the table in the palm of her hand, just as she believed she always should, as her right and power. But when she saw no anger or hurt in Emeria’s gaze, she paused. “I just don’t think it proper for a woman to raise a child alone with no father. Who knows what they’d have to do in order to survive?”

She ended the words almost tearfully, but her eyes remained sharp, taking in the lifted chin and commanding gaze of that commoner woman. One of the other ladies opened her mouth to speak but caught Emeria’s subtle gesture as she reached for her cup.

“I don’t see it that way, Your Majesty.”

Just as refined as Delilah’s movements were, so were that of her mother. As she took a sip, Ariana’s gaze narrowed.

“Oh?”

“Noble or commoner, are there not households with a sole parent? I’m sure their kids grew up just fine. After all, there is a saying I’ve heard numerous times.”

 “And that is?”

“It takes a village to raise a child,” Emeria said with a smile. “I hope you didn’t assume that we had no contact with our neighbors, though, I’d understand your concern then, if you had thought that.”

“I do have many concerns, about many things, Lady Emeria. As a Queen should.”

Conversation drifted for a while, to unnecessary gossip and harmless thoughts and words. But of course, that would only last so long. Ariana not just wanted to knock Emeria down to the level she should’ve been at from the start, but to observe her. It seemed, she’d recruited the other ladies to her side. It was dreadfully obvious, seeing their gazes sparkle at the newcomer, the one who could oppose their so-called evil queen.

She watched Emeria picked up the correct utensils without hesitation, ate and drank with elegance, spoke with concise words and meanings.

Something told her she was missing a piece to the puzzle. Which household had her family skipped over? Which family didn’t try to send a daughter? And why would they have… if that daughter was already with child? They wouldn’t send someone already pregnant to claim the role of Queen. When she returned to her room, she would set her people on the hunt. Unless, she could get a hint out of her already.

“Lady Emeria,” Ariana sweetly called as she delicately set her teacup onto a saucer in front of her. The tiniest clink could be heard in the hush that fell over the table. Her gaze lifted slowly to rest on that of the one she feared could replace her if Owen truly tried to. “Do you have a last name or is it simply Emeria?”

If it hadn’t already been dead silent, it would have become such at those words. There were many commoners that held no last names. Whether it be from long fallen households banned from using their blood names, or due to no members holding a significant job, like that of a blacksmith or a tailor, a noble needed a last name to be recognized.

Those who had been trying to subtly aid Emeria and Delilah over the past hour couldn’t say anything to this question. In this setting, from the hostility in the Queen’s gaze, it certainly wasn’t a mere asking of a family name. It wasn’t friendly in the slightest. Jizelle frowned, looking down at her nearly untouched tea, her hands curling into fists under the table. Many of the other ladies looked to the flowers or the tablecloth themselves, dispirited that they couldn’t offer any assistance.

Because it was just a normal question.

They couldn’t pick a fight over it, no matter how it was said.

Emeria, looking into the eyes of a beast, lifted her own cup without a visible reaction to the barbs aimed her way. Ariana’s gentle smile twitched seeing the ease and form Emeria was displaying in her presence. It was irritating that she couldn’t pick apart the woman’s table manners.

After a small sip, the cup was set back down with the same elegance.

“Your Majesty, just because I didn’t share it, that doesn’t mean I don’t have one.”

Heads popped up, eyes wide, all around the table as the ladies took in the meaning of her words. Emeria was no regular commoner if she had a last name.

In fact, if she had a last name...

She could be a noble.

“And?” Ariana pressed. “What is it?”

When no response came, she scoffed, assuming the stance of a victor in the battle of words. If Emeria couldn’t give an answer, it meant she was lying about having a last name.

“You can’t even answer that?”

Jizelle spotted an opportunity upon seeing several women and men waiting a short distance away. She cut through the silence.

“Your Majesty?”

“Yes, Jizelle?”

Jizelle gently inclined her head over to the collected group, drawing Ariana’s gaze away from Emeria. Letting out a sigh paired with a scowl, she signaled for the next desserts to be placed on the table.

“I just think it’s a concern,” she declared to the group, covering her tracks of hostility with reason. “What if she were related to one of Felshare’s enemies? I was merely looking out for the kingdom.”

“Of course.” Emeria replied to her with a nod. “I understand completely.”

Their gazes clashed in the air once more.

“And that’s not something you should worry about. I am no enemy to the crown.”

As Emeria broke their stare by turning her attention to her daughter, Ariana couldn’t feel anything but defeat. The commoner had looked away first, but there was a strange feeling in the pit of her stomach.

Though the one to look away was usually the one to suffer loss, this time, the victor had declared silently that it wasn’t worth meeting the gaze of the other any longer.

Ariana’s hand clenched into a fist as she watched Emeria speak quietly to Delilah at the other end of the table.

After two hours of eggshells and barbed words, the ladies dispersed. Ariana was the first to leave, declaring a spontaneous headache that she needed to rest.

When her feet touched the carpet in her room, she demanded her most loyal servant to be present before her. She had information to dig up.

There was something she needed to know.