My Brother, My Lover //WMMAP: Pre-Athanasia time period//

I .Wisteria. I

WARNING: SEX (SMUT WHATEVER)

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Princess Sesevia quietly sat in the center of Emerald Palace's breezy central garden, sipping her noon tea under the cool shade of a lace parasol, and clothed in a fine dress of satin ribbons as all Royal ladies do.

The aesthetic scenery of the garden surrounding her offered no expense, as it depicts an orchard sagging with purple wisteria blooms. These draped from above, almost prohibiting the caramel-colored sunlight in hitting the fresh green soil.

These weren't made by any nor tool. When Sesevia herself landed her heels here for her daily teatime, she was the one who flowered its infant seeds into full maturity without any trouble, instantly turning the whole place into a naturalist wonderland.

How did she do it? If her twin brother has his own specialty of magic, hers is the beauty of nature itself.

But even amidst such revelation, for the past hour she tried her very best to avoid slapping two of her maids tittering and gossiping behind her back. They kept wagging their tongues on and on, with many types of idle scandal endlessly pouring out from their annoying mouths.

"The maids in the Ruby Palace cannot stop whispering about the new woman." The first maid reported to the other, feeling giddy about this fresh one. "They say no one in the harem can be compared to her."

The second maid squeals in delight, nodding energetically. "Goodness, yes! She is that dancer from Siodonna. I heard she's the most favored by His Majesty, thus making the other concubines really jealous."

"True that. It's as if the Emperor loves her if you ask me. He gifts her brand new presents every day since she came. His Majesty goes to tea with her every afternoon, and in the evenings..." The first maid's voice trails off with a giggle.

"Well I think even though His Majesty is required to marry other Royalty for alliance, he might crown her Empress—"

A pair of gloved hands suddenly slams on the glass tabletop, making the porcelains on top to clatter and fall, some shattering against the soil. The loud action startled every maid in attendance, including those two wenches who can't shut up.

Ready to comply to every given command, they immediately rushed to dutifully clean up the lethal shards and also aid their Princess's needs, worried she may had been scathed.

Sesevia held out a single palm as she slowly dart up her seat, the fertile grass situated below her doll shoes visibly withered into shreds of dried weed; the grotesque consequence whenever her emotions ricochet negatively.

If she could make the most beautiful rose grow at will, then without doubt, she can send it back to hell.

Seeing this, the servants resulted to an abrupt halt, already fearing what may occur next. Nothing, you see, is okay when Sesevia's about to have an episode. Every single person in the Imperial Palaces know of this, so they try their utmost best in avoiding to displease her.

So, the question the servants are milling in their minds: What made Her Highness tick, when she was in a fairly genteel mood?

Good question, girls. Because sooner than later, they are about to find out.

"You..." Sesevia growls under her venomous tone, pointing a trembling finger on the maid who first began the insidious topic. "Who gave you the right to whisper such malice behind the Emperor? In his sister's back?"

The girl froze, her whole face devoid of color, that another maid was required to nudge her into reality.

"Y-Your Highness!" She wailed in sheer fear, prostrating her body on the ground. "Have m-mercy! I-I didn't mean to!"