The Curse of the beauty

And so the seethe begins.

Emma swung her fist, slamming it into the trunk of the tree before her. Bark splintered, leaving a fist-shaped indentation in the trunk.

"Why the fuck now, of all times?" She demanded, visibly angry.

Why the fuck did one of those imbecilic, lifeless gossip-hungry bitches need a 'celebratory feast' the day before the tournament? She knew it was likely some minor princess that needed to show off her most recent toy. And of course, each noble within the city was required to go to. She had been making progress, considering how to more conservatively use both stone and ice together. And now this?

More futile posing. More strutting around like they had a entire iron shoved up their asses and with their fake, painted grins. Their sensitive chuckles and furtively plotting around how to urge their 'face'. She had never caught on the stupid concept of it, and as she had bluntly told Jian so numerous times, she did not care for it either.

She proceeded strolling, clearing out the little enclosure behind her. When she had first came here, it was an open-aired space, likely expecting to be a garden. Screw that, rather than tossing in each plant she might discover, she had made it comfortable instep. She had left the tree standing, and instead, put in a number of chairs and more than many cushions. Forget that contemplating posture stuff. She just leaned back in a comfortable, padded seat and got more done than any of the so-called 'young masters' within the city.

Shadows danced behind her as fast-moving clouds above flitted through the sky above. They washed over the large tree, whose species had not existed back in Alexacia. There were two benches in her courtyard, sitting as unused as the day she had brought them, and her miniature throne, a shrine to cushiness and comfort.

She had been here for nearly two years now, she idly mused, running her fingers along with the stone of the walls, as she strode inside. Oh, there had been a lot of huff and fuss when she had arrived out of nowhere but playing smart had been her saving grace. She had not been able to speak a damn word, and by the time she learned, she knew enough to not tell anyone jack shit.

So, here she was, living in a small villa at the edge of the Middle District. No visitors, no friends, just herself and Jian. She liked it that way.

Emma turned the corner, opening a door and stepping into the house. Turning right, she followed the circular corridor wrapping around the meditation area to her room. She passed the kitchen on the way, momentarily spotting Jian's tall, lean form inside as the old man working the counter.

She flat out refused to eat what the people here considered "food." She had enjoyed various types of food back home, but she did not enjoy the live baby octopus or bird nest soup. A little boost to Sol intake is damned.

Jian was hunched over the giant textbook she had made, it was open on the counter. On its pages were hand-drawn instructions for what simple foods she could remember. She grinned at his back as she remembered teaching him how to cook. It had been......fun to say the least.

She ran a hand through her messy hair, ruffling it a bit further as she moved on. Was she ever glad for the things she had learned around the house at home? She grimaced, remembering her early teen days. Like every other girl she had known, she had been a goddamn brat. Idly, she wondered where those days were and whether anyone even missed her? Maybe her neighbours. Jess too. But that was about it. Everyone else she had known had been a social butterfly. They would have put on the grieving faces just long enough to not be seen as assholes, then they would just move on.

Those days were dead and gone.

*****

"This one asks if the mistress wishes for anything."