CHAPTER 2

Elara sat perched on a high stool, her reflection staring back at her from the grand dressing mirror that adorned her chamber. Around her, a team of the finest beauticians in all the dominion meticulously attended to her, their skilled hands weaving magic with natural pigments and herbal extracts.

As the beautician delicately applied the cosmetics, sculpting contours to accentuate her cheekbones and adorning her lips with rich hues, Elara's mind churned with a tumult of emotions. Every normal lady would revel in the attention, relishing the opportunity to be pampered and ornately adorned. But for Elara, the knowledge that it was all for her mother's satisfaction twisted her joy into bitter resentment.

She couldn't shake the memory of the servant who had delivered the news earlier that morning, the words like a dagger to her heart. "The queen has asked that you prepare for a trip later today," the servant had said, her tone heavy with implication. "Make yourself look presentable, as befitting of a bride, for the trip."

The anger surged within Elara, a fiery tempest threatening to consume her. How dare her mother drag her into such situations without her consent? The fire of rebellion burned bright within her spirit, urging her to lash out, to defy her mother's will at any cost. But as she met the servant's gaze, she saw a reflection of her own captivity, a reminder that they were both ensnared in the queen's web of servitude and oppression.

With a heavy sigh, Elara suppressed the urge to lash out, to defy her mother's will in a blaze of defiance. She knew the consequences of such actions all too well, the chastening wrath of her mother awaiting her with every act of rebellion. And so, she gritted her teeth and endured, a silent martyr to her mother's tyranny.

Elara's hand instinctively went to her neck, a visceral reaction to the memory of her mother's near-fatal assault. Hate and anger surged within her, a bitter torrent threatening to consume her from within.

As if fate itself conspired to test her resolve, the servant attending to her nails filed a little too vigorously, drawing blood. Pain shot through her toes, up her legs, and through her spine, igniting a wildfire of agony within her.

The servant recoiled in horror at her mistake, stammering out an apology as Elara's rage boiled over.

“I’m sorry my lady.”

Without hesitation, Elara seized the nearest object—a golden comb—and struck the servant on the temple. The girl crumpled to the ground, unconscious, as the other beauticians looked on in shock and uncertainty.

"Get out!" Elara's voice thundered through the room, a fierce wind whipping through the chamber in response to her fury. The other beauticians hesitated, unsure of what to do, until Elara's command rang out once more. "Get this mess out of my sight!"

With bowed heads, the beauticians quickly gathered the unconscious maid and retreated from the room, leaving Elara alone with her reflection. She gazed into the mirror, seeing not herself but a stranger—a victim of her mother's cruelty, trapped in a world of pain and suffering.

Tears threatened to spill from her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. With a deep breath, she steeled herself against the weakness that threatened to consume her. She placed her tiara upon her head, a symbol of her strength and defiance, before rising to leave the room.

Elara climbed into the waiting carriage, her mother's icy presence chilling the air around them. Without a word, she settled beside her mother, her gaze fixed straight ahead, devoid of emotion.

"What took you so long this time?" Her mother's voice cut through the silence, dripping with disdain.

"I'm sorry, mother," Elara replied tersely, her tone flat and unyielding.

"A leader must be perfect, flawless, and attentive to timing," her mother continued, a sinister grin twisting her lips. "Timing is everything, as you will see with your next assignment."

Elara's heart sank at her mother's words, a sense of dread settling over her like a suffocating shroud. She wanted to demand answers, to plead for mercy, but she swallowed her questions, the silent screams of her mind threatening to shatter her sanity.

They rode on in silence, the weight of their unspoken words hanging heavy in the air. The carriage rolled through plains and over mountain passes, the landscape passing by in a blur of greenery and stone.

Finally, they reached the Avian forest, the boundary between Lorath and the Northern Kingdoms. From the forest's edge, they could see the distant peaks of the Athrean Mountains, looming like silent sentinels over the capital of the Northern Kingdoms, Therianthra.

Elara's mind raced with questions, but she dared not voice them aloud. What new assignment awaited them in Therianthra? What sinister plot had her mother concocted this time?

As the carriage resumed its journey, they were met by a military contingent from the king's palace, tasked with escorting them through the city gates. A group of soldiers, armed and armored, rode up to the carriage, their leader pulling alongside to speak with Elara's mother. With a flick of her wrist, her mother lowered the curtains, granting the soldier an audience within the confines of their carriage.

"We're honored to have you in our kingdom, your majesty," their leader bowed from atop his horse.

"Oh, I'm more ecstatic to be here, myself," Lillith replied with a smile that dripped with deceit, her eyes glinting with hidden malice.

Together, their group rode through the gates into Therianthra, a city of towering walls and majestic towers. The buildings seemed to reach for the heavens, their red stone walls crafted from precious stones unique to the city.

Elara marveled at the sight, but her mother's words soured the moment. "Imagine being queen in a dominion as great as this," Lillith mused, her voice tinged with arrogance. Elara rolled her eyes, choosing to focus on the breathtaking architecture instead.

The citizens of Therianthra were a sight to behold, their olive skin and regal posture a testament to their wealth and status. Adorned in fine silk and lavish jewelry, they exuded an air of opulence that spoke volumes about the city's prosperity.

As they dismounted from their horses, a servant rushed forward to open the carriage door for Elara and her mother. They were greeted by a eunuch, his dark skin contrasting sharply with his bald head and muscular physique.

"Welcome, your majesty, Queen Lillith the first, Conqueror of Realms and Keeper of Arcane Secrets," the eunuch proclaimed, his voice ringing out with reverence. "Enchantress of Empires and Arbiter of Magic, Mistress of Magics and Vanquisher of Rivals, Sorceress Supreme and Protector of the Mystic Realms, Supreme Ruler of the Greater Dominion of Lorath."

Then, turning to Elara, he added, "Welcome, Princess Elara, daughter of Queen Lillith the Great, heir to the throne of Lorath, and soon-to-be bride of the crown prince of Therianthra."

Elara's shock was palpable as she turned to her mother for an explanation. With a sinister smile, Lillith confirmed the eunuch's words. "Well, now you know, daughter."