Chapter Eighteen

I took a shower so hot it burned my skin. The water cascaded over me in a scalding torrent, searing my skin in a cleansing fire. Nerida always despised my preference for such hot showers, the way they turned my skin rosy and uneven. But her daughter was trying to kill me, she could get over it. I crumbled in the shower until my heart rate slowed. Logic would usurp my panic attack, the warm water would slow the heart rate and heal the body that I no longer felt connected to.

In the reflection of the bathroom mirror, I observed my own features, my own resemblance to the princess. An urge to claw at my face—to mar the visage that echoed hers—flickered within me. But deep down, I knew that such an act would only lead to more confinement, more scrutiny. If I were to yield to such an impulse, Nerida would likely confine me to a medical ward, attended by gaslighting psychiatrists until the prospect ball arrived. After all, I wasn't her true daughter; I was an imitation, a pawn in this grand charade. Unlike Irina, I wasn't allowed to be broken.

Later, as the shadows lengthened, Saija sought me out. I perched on the ledge of my bedroom, my gaze fixed on the bustling cityscape below. The city was a tapestry of movement, a mosaic of lives in motion. I marveled at the multitude of choices those lives held—choices that seemed an insurmountable luxury compared to my fate.

Saija's presence enveloped me like a comforting embrace as she settled before me, offering a cup of chamomile tea, a potion of solace in a world of turmoil. The tea, a fragment of our distant home, bore a soothing familiarity amidst the orchestrated chaos of our lives. “How are you doing?”

“Fine, as always,” I replied, my attention steadfast on the bustling expanse of flying cars outside the window, their swift movement a mesmerizing dance against the city's canvas.

Dressed in silk pajamas, Saija's natural skin tone looked radiant against the red fabric. The oldest among us by two years, she used to have to bind her breasts to remain a youthful appearance. Now, unbound and herself, she sat before me, a symbol of authenticity. A scar on her left hand, a token of her time at Dawnlight, adorned her with unapologetic pride. To me, she was the most beautiful woman in the world.

I wondered if I just looked like a copy-and-paste version of Irina, just as broken. My words aimed to ground us in the present. "How's Dawnlight?" I inquire, the words an effort to maintain the facade of casual conversation.

"You should be there," Saija said, her praise lifting my spirits. Saija's presence felt like warmth on a cold night, reassuring and steady. "It's remarkable. Students from everywhere, even royalty, trained to be commanders and leaders. You should ask Nerida to let you join."

A shake of my head echoed my silent surrender. "Nerida's thoughts are consumed by Irina's impending union. I-I..." Words stumbled upon my tongue, elusive and difficult to grasp. “I feel terrible acting in Irina’s place for marriage prospects, I just think that if she were to be more open about her condition, everyone would understand. We could do more intimate parties–”

Saija's reprimanding tone intervened. "Such transparency would mark her forever, make her stand out."

The tea's comforting warmth caressed my lips, a soothing elixir to my weary soul. “I know,” came my defeat. “I’d rather us four start acting as crazy as her. I’d love to throw a fit and attack some Astran guards.”

Saija's laughter, a shared resonance of camaraderie, cast ripples of joy within our tenuous sanctuary. A new topic entered the discourse, the realm of cosmetic alteration that had plagued our lives since memory began. “Did you hear about the new surgery?”

I rolled my eyes, an exasperated sigh escaping my lips. "Seriously? What's the latest trend now? A nose job, perhaps? Or are we all getting frazzled hair like Irina? Whatever it is, it better not involve anesthesia. I can't afford to be drugged out at the prospect gathering tomorrow night."

Just then, Amaya breezed into the room, a joint of our favored drug, stardust, between her fingers. Amaya was like a tempest in human form, unyielding as a mountain and untamed as the wind. Her very presence commanded attention. "You know, princess," she said with a smirk, "you don't need surgery."

Amaya's words hung in the air, heavy with implication. She winked at me, passing me the joint, and my incredulity intensified. "What are you trying to say?"

An exchanged glance between Amaya and Saija only fueled my confusion. "Wait, you two know something I don't?"
Shaking my head, I refused to believe what was forming in my mind. "No way. Please tell me Nerida isn't altering her daughter to look like me. What could she possibly want from my face?”

Amaya was giggling into Saija’s chest. “Not our faces,” she managed, nodding towards my chest. “Your breasts.”

My jaw dropped. “You’re joking.”

Saija groaned and rose, linking arms with Amaya. "Oh, how I wish we were joking. But the divine powers above have chosen your body as their canvas. We're just lucky to bask in its glory."

I blushed, a rosy hue that masked the bitter irony lurking beneath the surface. “Will the surgery impact your training at Dawnlight?”

Saija shook her head and ruffled my hair. “That’s for us to worry about, princess,” she said, then leaned down and kissed my forehead. “Rest well.”

Amaya, however, lingered. Her hand shot out, lighting fast, a testament to her skill as a Shadow. She pulled the wrist of my shirt up before I could protest, examining the scalding with a disapproving look. Amaya's strength was not just physical; she could read my unspoken battles, and discern my silent cries.

She crossed her arm and leaned against my bookshelf in a stance that would intimidate the gods. “You’re not well.”

I didn’t protest it.

She persisted. “Do you want me to fill in for you tomorrow? Nerida listens to me. I could fabricate a security breach, claim it safer for me to embody Irina."

I pulled my sleeve back over my hand, grateful for her offer. "No," I replied, meeting her fierce gaze. “You have lessons and war-god boyfriends. You and Saija are the best fighters. Enjoy your freedom, Amaya. You’ve earned it.”

A stormy gaze, an expression untamed as the elements, held mine with unflinching intensity. “We’ll be back by eight. I’ll be by your side the entire time.”

I nodded, acknowledging the promise. "Goodnight," I whispered, a smile gracing my lips as I thought of Ezra. "And thanks, Amaya."
------

I loved Astreaus. I was convinced it was the most enchanting place not only within our galaxy but across the expanse of the universe. With its four grand continents, each boasting a warm Mediterranean embrace, it was a realm of varied splendor. My connection with Astreaus began when I was a mere five years old, summoned to be chosen as a handmaiden to the princess herself. She confided in me that my eyes held a spark of unparalleled wonder, a spark that led her to select me above all others.

The breadth of our territories held me captivated. From the bountiful North Kingdom to the opulent South, I had traversed every corner of this land. Its beauty was a tapestry woven by the hands of gods.

Our castle, a mesmerizing blend of timeless fairy tales and advanced onyx and stone engineering, stood as a testament to our ingenuity. Its pillars and domes adorned each angle, while statues of the original twelve deities graced corridors and halls. It was whispered to resemble Versailles, a historical relic I had briefly skimmed over in my youth. My research, though, unveiled images of gilded grandeur, sumptuous golden silks, and ethereal white marble. That was our home.

Our gardens, too, mirrored this magnificence. Stretching into the horizon, they blended botanical wonders with tranquil outdoor havens. Irina and I, in our childhood escapades, had often found ourselves lost amidst their labyrinthine paths. As punishment, I was once forced to dissect every architectural aspect of the capital. Yet, I couldn't truly complain, for the experience only deepened my appreciation.

"I have to go," I playfully complained, extracting myself from the embrace of Ezra's silk sheets in the heart of Astraeus.

"Stay," he urged, his lips caressing the hollow between my breasts. Erza's movements held the grace of ocean currents, each gesture an exquisite symphony of water and wind. "My dear, I find myself needing you."

Laughter bubbled up within me, and I tugged at the sheets, revealing his strong, masculine form. Ezra's sun-kissed brown hair bore the tousled traces of sea breezes, his captivating countenance graced by the warmth of his smile. His chiseled jaw, a symbol of unyielding might, softened beneath the glow of his grin. And his body – a powerful testament to his prowess and valor, forged through years of combat against the Empire's darkness.

"I have to go," I insisted, savoring the sight of his magnificence. His arousal from our morning encounter lingered, his cum dripping ever so slightly.

He groaned and flipped over, pouring himself a drink as if it held the last drops of water in existence. "I'm declaring myself a suitor, you know," he declared, his grin full of challenge.

My silk nightgown barely clung around my waist as I spun around to face him. "You're doing what?"

“You heard me, darling,” his smile was so gorgeous I could never get mad at him. "I'm competing for your hand."

I couldn't help but shift, my expression caught between surprise and disbelief. "For Irina's hand, you mean."

His stride brought him closer, encircling me. "Irina is destined to walk a shadowed path, you understand this better than anyone," his tone grew earnest, laden with sincerity. "I refuse to stand aside and watch you marry another. Remember, I am a high lord in my own right."

“You have two older brothers, Erza.”

His presence enveloped me, his breath a warm caress against my neck. "I’ll murder them. For you, I would defy the heavens themselves," he murmured. "Esos, my homeland, I would offer it all to you."

A smile tugged at my lips, my thoughts drifting to the landscapes of Esos, west of Astraeus' expansive ocean. "Esos does hold a special place in my heart," I confessed, my words muffled against his throat. "But your brothers are entitled to their lives."

He pressed on, a fire burning in his eyes. "I'll enter the competition, and I'll emerge victorious," he vowed, his promise echoing with determination. "I'll be your prince, our union blessed by the threads of fate."

I rolled my eyes playfully, finally donning my clothes. "While the divine may have a role to play, Nerida's will shall reign over the games," I conceded, my resolve softening. "Nevertheless, you will be a formidable contender."

“Anything for you,” he kissed me.