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Chapter 157: A Princess’s Standards
🕑 Added 2023-09-22 03:11:28 +0000 UTCAs a princess, mine was a life of duty and hardship.
Scarcely a day went by where I wasn’t forced to scold a maid for setting the bath at 0.02°C below the optimal temperature (40.72°C) or fire a freshly hired servant for making accidental eye contact with me. Even now, my memories of childhood were scarred by the time I had to endure a chef providing me with a 78 hour baked streusel cake he had to watch for every minute of its creation, yet somehow forget to place the cherry on top at the end.
Nobody knew the horrors I had to endure.
Other than my siblings, no shoulders existed for me to shed my tears upon. And yet for all the trauma I knew, there was still room for more.
Indeed … if I were forced to name a more recent memory to take a place upon the mantlepiece of terrible experiences, it’d likely be the sensation of being lifted away by Coppelia while a spiralling ball of engulfing light sought to bite at my ankles.
Not because I objected to being rescued from certain doom by my loyal handmaiden, of course.
No, that was perfectly acceptable.
But rather, I objected to the manner of being carried beneath Coppelia’s arm like a piece of wayward luggage. Nor was I the only one to feel as such.
Fastened beneath Coppelia’s other arm, a pair of arms and legs dangled downwards, the baggy pink pyjamas that went with them flapping wildly.
Were I not despairing at my highly unflattering state, I’d compliment Countess Miriam on the way she expertly accepted her role as nobility by sponging off someone else’s retainer.
“–Hiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!!!!!!”
This.
This was my new normal.
“Wheeeeeeeeee~!”
Leaping like a cat burglar in an alley, Coppelia wore a smile filled with delight as she pounced from ledge to ledge, climbing the endless chasm by hopping upon each and every surface.
Whether it was the smooth, spiralling path used by the miners or the jagged and uncarved rock face, her nimble footing found purchase as she raced ahead of the chasing sun … just.
The fireball soared up through the chasm, its blinding heat nibbling away at the ends of my hair as the dark strands fluttered past my face. It was unremitting. A furnace of pure light. And wherever I glanced, I witnessed as solid rock crumbled like dry croissants moments before being engulfed by the maws of flames.
Just as the smuggling guildmaster was.
A truly undeserved fate.
That he’d been burned to oblivion before he could make amends for his crimes against the kingdom was a sentence lighter than any I could have given. A swift penance free of relentless lifelong hardship wasn’t a punishment I accepted. There would be consequences for that. Just as there would be if even a speck of that intense light grazed the tip of my hair.
Indeed, it was only right for Coppelia to spirit me away.
… Yet even so!
“Coopppeeliaaa!!” I called out, barely hearing my own voice against the rumbling. “Please carry me gracefuulllyy!!”
This … This was highly against etiquette!
There was a clear procedure to being carried away by my faithful retainers, and that included the use of both arms!
“Isn’t this great?! It’s been ages since I’ve had to jump away from an explosion!”
“Cooppeeelliiaa!!”
“Eh? Did you say something?”
“Cooppeeliiaaa!! Graceefuullly!!”
“Oh, sure! I can carry you gracefully, but I’d have to drop the vampire … should I drop the vampire?”
“Don’t drop the vampire,” said the vampire, looking only tired as she gazed down at what remained of her books and tent. “I have no wish to test my defences against an expanding ball of pure light.”
“Did you just ask if we can escape faster?... Because I can do that!”
My ensuing complaint, and possible suggestion to drop the vampire, was squeezed out of me as Coppelia tightened her grip.
“Hup … Hup … Hup … Hup … Hup~”
Immediately, what were slabs of rock became mushy slabs of rock as everything blurred. Nausea assailed me as all sense of equilibrium was lost to Coppelia’s deft impersonation of a mountain gazelle as she began to jump with little regard to the comfort of her passengers.
I let out a groan as a palette of browns swept by me.
And then … I found myself blinking at a bright moon hanging in the sky.
A silhouette of a tawny owl streaked across its surface, disappearing into the fluffy clouds drifting overhead. An icy breeze pricked against my skin, sharp and alive versus the pallid gloom of the abyss.
Leaping free from the entrance of the mines, Coppelia skipped no more than once as she found her landing upon the edge of a precipice. Her shins punted a wooden fence down to the town below, as well as the sign warning of a sharp drop.
Then, each of us glanced behind as the mouth of the mines came to life. The darkness lit like a dragon’s throat.
Poof.
… Only for a tiny whimper of light to escape into the night, less a spurt of flames and more an unhealthy wheeze.
Relief found me at once.
Not only because my skin was still free of blemishes. But also because I could finally wriggle free of Coppelia’s arm. I dusted myself down at once. And then stepped away from the vertical drop. Priorities.
“Phew~” Coppelia wiped an invisible droplet of sweat from her brow. She admired the tip of her shoes peeking over the precipice. “That was close! We almost escaped the amazing explosion just to join the dead pile of wealthy uncles on the ground!”
I raised a brow, then peeked over the edge.
A dense cloud of fog. All which could be seen of the town of Stermondt. The mist enshrouded both the townsfolk and their ability to witness the rightful sight of their princess as I took my place peeking down at them.
And not even from a worthy enough height.
“It’s as I thought … this drop isn’t enough to murder wealthy uncles.”
“Eh? Hold on, there’s no way any wealthy uncle is surviving this.”
“I disagree. Most will perish. But ‘most’ isn’t good enough. If a body can still reasonably be checked for signs of life, then that small doubt alone renders the entire inheritance scheme unworkable.”
Countess Miriam tilted her head slightly.
Unlike me, she’d not bothered to wriggle free from Coppelia’s hold. Rather, she seemed comfortable being carried like a rolled up carpet.
“Hmm? What’s this about wealthy uncles?”
“Coppelia believes that the fog in combination with the cliffs can entice ambitious nephews and nieces to discard their wealthy relatives.”
“Oh. I see.” The vampire glanced down. “I’m afraid I have nothing to add to that debate. My only point of reference is myself, and I would easily survive the fall.”
“Because of your vampiric strength?”
“No. Because of my wings. I can call upon them in the moonlight … or at least, I believe I can. It’s been a few decades.”
Coppelia and I both creaked our attention solely onto her.
We patiently waited.
“... Um, by any chance, are you hoping to see them?” asked Countess Miriam, realising her error too late.
“You mentioned wings,” said Coppelia, giving the vampire an encouraging shake. “You can’t mention wings and not show them.”
Countess Miriam hesitated.
Yet after consolidating her regret, she closed her eyes.
Fwup.
Yet after consolidating her regret, obliged by sprouting a pair of small, bat-like wings to a puff of violet.
They seemed to me little more than paraphernalia, surely outmatched by the flight of paper doves and no better than to slow a descent. Functional at a stretch perhaps, yet utterly lacking. Like an opera house without a fruit stall inside.
I waited for them to flap.
They didn’t.
“Excuse me? Is that it?”
An expression of embarrassment graced the vampire’s face.
“My wings are sufficient for my needs. Which is very little. I don’t really have a need to terrorise the night sky. Not unless I want to skip a queue. Thankfully, there are few works I still need to line up for. I receive most of my books directly. And usually in advance.”
“I see … and how is it exactly that you come to have access to advance copies of unpublished works of utter scandal?”
The vampire smiled, appearing as dignified as she could while swaying under Coppelia’s arm.
“To you, I am Countess Miriam Estroux. But to others, I am The Pink Raven. A collector, a reviewer, and sometimes an editor. I consider myself a curator. And though you’ve never heard of me, I dare say you’ve felt my impact over the years.”
I was stunned.
Why, she was more than an intellectual. She was literary dignitary!
Indeed, this vampire might be a spawn of darkness, but she at least put her long years to use in a far better manner than any of her peers did. Those only conquered and enslaved. An impact shared by countless tyrants and schemers.
How many could claim to have captured the world of romance serials?
“Sadly, it seems a considerable number of books I was sent in good faith are now destroyed. A shame. I’d amassed a stack of suggestions which I lacked the opportunity to pass on.”
“More than a shame. A crime. Destruction of property is a clear offence. And I intend to see justice served for it.”
Indeed, all I could feel was a sense of grave injustice as I considered the loss of so many scandalous books. And while I couldn’t deny that burning them in righteous fire wasn’t an entirely incorrect thing to do … it had to at least wait until it was read!
Why, this was just wasteful!
Thus, I looked down upon the sea of fog. Nothing could be seen but the sharp chimneys peeking out into the night … yet amongst them, a common chapel stood out like a candle in the dark.
It should be the most dull landmark in all of Stermondt. A nod to quaintness in a town teeming with industry and the sounds of moving goods.
Instead, it was bristling with light.
Its walls were aglow with a paint of divinity, its stained windows illuminated so clearly that each was akin to a gateway to the heavens. And yet I didn’t feel the slightest hint of warmth gazing upon it.
Because what was light, when it merely shone when all else was darkened?
I, on the other hand, was the brightest star in the sky. A light even in the height of springtime. And I would shine where I was needed most. Upon the shadow over Stermondt, cast by the walls of a chapel glimmering in the distance.
“You still intend on a confrontation,” said Countess Miriam, nodding with as much dignity as she could while being carried like a potato sack. “Very well. I believe this endeavour to be foolish, but I will not waste your conviction, nor your time. To approach blindly would be to invite defeat. Therefore, we must have a robust, carefully thought out plan in place. I suggest we–”
“Stop.” I held up my palm. “Before you make any suggestions, I wish to say something.”
Countess Miriam blinked at me.
“What is it?”
I raised a hand to my lips.
“Ohhooohohoohohohohohoohohohohohohohohoho!!”
The vampire’s mouth dropped, utter confusion mixing with severe apprehension.
I hardly saw why.
After all, what she just said was the most amusing thing I’d heard since one of the daughters in my mandatory tea parties asked me if I could pass her the sugar.
I was a princess. Not some scheming baroness seeking to expand my land by plotting how to steal another barn. And that meant my every action, my every word and my every gloat met a certain standard, dictated heavily by the status of my foe.
By all means, were this some duplicitous monarch of a foreign nation inciting instability in my kingdom, I would certainly be at liberty to be colourful with my response.
But a sister?
Almost certainly some nameless commoner, far beyond her depths?
A holy insect. And I did not need to plan to use my boot of authority.
All I had to do was see. And the sole would find its way.
“... Miss Coppelia, I suddenly feel a deep sense of unease.”
“Great, huh? This is just an ordinary evening~”
Indeed, to do anything more would be to instantly assassinate my own carefully curated reputation!
For all my wealth, beauty and unparalleled genius, princesses lived and died on the fearful words whispered about them in the corners of ballrooms and common taverns alike!
What good would it do me if I rescued my kingdom from the grip of calamity, only for it to be said that I answered my foes with fretting and fear?
The implications were galling!
When scheming nobility and rebellious peasants decided whether or not to answer the call of treachery, it wouldn’t be measured against my utter disregard for their wishes or my lavish lifestyle at their continued expense.
It would be on the back of the precedents I had set.
And for a sister of the Holy Church, this highly unwise misadventure in duplicity deserved only the least of my efforts.
That’s why–
“Ohohohoho … ohoho … ohoho … oho … ahem, my apologies, Countess Miriam. That was not a slight against you, nor your suggestion. With that said, it is rejected.”
“Ex … Excuse me?”
“We shall be proceeding through the front door. After knocking, of course.”
Whatever blood remained in the vampire’s face drained as she opened her mouth in horror. She became paler still when I approached, my shadow darkening the highly concerned expression being directed up at me.
I generously offered her more of my brilliant smile.
“Ohohoho … indeed, you’ve little to fear, Countess Miriam Estroux. For you shall have your justice. And you shall be present to witness every moment of it.”
The vampire paused, becoming very still. Something which looked very much like sweat began rolling down her face.
And then she attempted to wriggle free of Coppelia’s grip.
She failed.
I turned towards the chapel in the distance, its faux lights inviting me towards it.
It was time for the Kingdom of Tirea to renegotiate its relationship with this oldest of organisations, beginning with a tax rebate and ending with an errant sister on her knees.
And it would not be the heavens she’d be praying towards.
It would be me.
Comments
MrAcerulez
“Good news! You don’t have to wonder where your god is! Because she’s right here, and she’s fresh out of mercy.”
emanym
Juliette is always so fun to read. She sure has her priorities straight.
