The Empress' Descent

Chapter 4 - The Maid

The room was a far cry from the Empress' chambers I'd been accustomed to. The space was not even half the size of it. Though I did not complain. In a peasant's eyes this place was more than extravagant.

I threw myself onto the mattress, the sheets shifting satisfyingly around me. At least the bed was comfortable. I could lie here all night and let the covers embrace me in their softness.

Staring up at the canopy curtains, I found myself being hit by nostalgia. Even though I hadn't felt like I was gone for years.

While being guided to my room, I'd seen the halls where I'd run around as a child. I had passed the fields where I would spar with the young knights. I stole a glimpse of my younger sister Cynthia's private gardens where she would intertwine her flowers with my short locks.

What I felt was not nostalgia. Perhaps it was the feeling of knowing that from now on I would be walking these halls as a completely different person. That everything and everyone I knew will never be the same again.

Fate drove me back here and I was back home. But it did not seem like that at all.

But then, what was home? It was the same place as before, I realized. There were enemies wherever I might look, snake-tongued and with eyes at the back of their heads. Traps were laid in every corner, snares that lure weaknesses and incompetence.

I've been through those as Crown Princess and as Empress. Such obstacles were common.

I chuckled and brought a hand to my forehead. "I am a fool for fretting. I have played this game once. I will gladly play it again."

This time, though, I must dance to a different tune to survive. I was used to battles. And battles bred survivors. Should they discover that their tyrant Empress had come crawling back from the dead, it'd be over for me. They'd shove my head into the ground and bury me a second time—alive—if they had to.

I was not new to this. I must be careful.

A series of gentle pounding on the door made me hoist myself up and sit.

"Who is it?" I cried out.

"It is me, Elian. Can I come in?"

"Just a second."

I pulled the door open and gestured for him to come in. Elian entered, golden blonde and in princely attire of white and silver.

I picked up the edges of my skirt and bowed. It seemed as though I had a flair for dramatics. "Forgive me for the mess, Your Highness. I'm afraid I haven't had the time to unpack yet."

I meant it for the trunks at the sides that the servants had delivered earlier.

Elian's nose crinkled. "You're too formal... and stiff. Loosen up a little."

I tilted my head. "Pardon?"

"I'm saying you can relax." He was toying with a curl that fell loose on his brow.

"I am relaxed."

"No, that's not what I mean." He let out a sigh. "Forget it. I came because my mother wanted me to check up on you and..."

His green gaze slipped away and his hand went to the back of his neck. He pressed his lips shyly.

I joined my hands together in front. "And?"

"And she wanted me to apologize. Back there, I—my behavior was unacceptable. My mother is right. I shouldn't have acted like that at the first meeting. Especially to my... betrothed."

I lifted my brows at the last word.

There was a tinge of pink on his cheeks. "I am deeply sorry, Clary."