Chapter 156: Ch. 155: Red Carpet

I’m still sulking at the interruption as I enter my carriage in the long string of carriages lined up along the imperial palace’s official entrance. The stars twinkle overhead, much like the crushed gems sprinkled over the iridescent silver fabric of the lovely opera dress and gloves Lady Arabella personally designed for me. I am in the last carriage, furthest away from the gates we are about to drive through. My father is obviously first, followed closely by the empress and the crown prince.

So revenge on Augustus will have to wait if I even bother.

It’s weird, the mix of pride, annoyance, and wariness churning in my belly as a footman aids me in climbing into the cushioned interior. When Augustus had scolded me about having a boy in my apartments without supervision, he’d not only felt like a real heir to the throne but a big brother as well. But the excitement of this coming-of-age moment for Augustus does not pair well with the healthy helping of embarrassment as Elias watched our tiff with a knowing smirk. Just remembering that has me burying my face in my elbow-length gloves.

“Your highness, are you nervous?” Sage asks. In the faint moonlight coming through the windows, she stares at me with an attentive, sweet expression.

“No,” I reply, straightening up with a smile. “I’m terribly excited.”

“As am I! To think that we would both enjoy our first opera together!” she claps. I’m certain that underneath her false exterior, she is just as unenthused as I am.

I tap at my chin. “Tell me what you’ve heard of the opera, anything will do,” I request eagerly.

.....

“My aunt told me that lights shine like it’s daytime in there, all facing the stage. The costumes are a work of art, the singing exceptional. She told me she shed a tear watching,” Sage answers with a wistful look outside the window. I ponder on how much she said is a lie.

“It sounds beautiful. It is a shame this is the sole outing we shall have as a family to the opera,” I softly complain.

“‘Tis a celebration of the fine arts of the empire, your highness. While the imperial family attends officially once a year, you are welcome to go more often if you so choose. You shall be able to enjoy this spectacle many more for years to come.” Her attempt to comfort me goes in one ear and out the other. If she and her true mistress have it their way, I will only have a few more years to enjoy the opera.

I nod like a bird pecking at wood, then deflate. “But...” I start, allowing my voice to trail off.

“But what, your highness?” Even Sage’s bug-eyed blink is irritating.

“My sister. She’s coming today,” I admit. In fact, Julia is rumbling along to the Chrysanthemum Opera House in the carriage just before mine. As this is an official imperial family outing, much like the hunting competition, Julia’s presence is required. While I had been lucky enough to enjoy the Blessing Day ceremonies without her presence earlier this season, alas, much like how the sun cannot shine every day of the year, the imperial family cannot spend every day of the year without one of its princesses.

Julia’s presence does not help with the annoyance that has been simmering in me all day. All it has done is remind me that my crazy half-sister basically got away with nearly murdering me without any real consequences.

A warm hand suddenly grasps mine. Sage leans across her side of the carriage towards me with perhaps the most sincere expression I’ve ever seen her muster.

“Family is family, your highness.” She manages to drop the sappy one-liner without budging, an Oscar-worthy performance indeed.

Her grip is firm so I don’t try to wriggle out of it.

“Are you close to your family, Sage?” I ask instead.

“Very, your highness. My sister and I, we fought often of course, but at the end of the day, we are of the same blood,” she says warmly.

I squeeze her hand like we are friends and smile back. “Did your sister ever try to kill you?”

Sage opens and closes her mouth like a fish. “More than once?” I add as she gapes in silence. She tries to pull her hand back but I hold on tight.

“You don’t know how awful people can be, Sage. Sometimes, people can smile right in your face and have bad intentions toward you. Sometimes, those who are closest to you wish you the most ill. The most unpredictable thing in the world is the human heart.” I tap at my own heart for dramatic effect. “Right here.”

Sage seems a little flabbergasted, before nodding along. So I decide to throw in a little bait to increase her interest.

“That is why I’ve taken certain measures to learn of people’s intentions before they can act to harm me,” I smugly add as if it’s an afterthought and not a deliberate statement to entice her.

“Your highness... your highness? Whatever do you mean by that?” Sage squeaks, eager to hear me divulge more information. I can practically hear the caching of a slot machine hitting jackpot as she struggles to disguise her rabid hunger for intel as casual interest.

I tease her some more, opening my mouth as if I’m about to tell her about my spy operations before ‘suddenly’ becoming enthralled with something outside my window.

“Oh, we must be close! Look at all the people!” I paste myself to the window, looking out at the throngs who have gathered to catch a glimpse of the imperial family.

“Yes, there are so many of them. But your highness-” she stutters, trying to reel the topic back to her desired subject.

I pat my hair as if I’m worried about my appearance. “Tell me, Sage, how do I look? Has my hair held up during this carriage ride?”

“It has, your highness. But actually, you were just mentioning-” she starts to say, before she gets cut off by a knock on the window by a footman. There is no more use in begging, because it is time for us to enter the finest opera house in the entire land, sponsored by the imperial family.

The sheer increase in volume as the door opens is almost overwhelming. I’m still struggling to adjust to the public part of being a princess, even whilst playing the occasional puppet role of the promised child for the Holy Church. Women wave handkerchiefs, men tip their hats. It’s the evening, my first public outing with the family during the night, yet there somehow seem to be even more people now than during the daytime for an occasion such as Blessing Day.

“The people of this empire have a true passion for the arts,” I faintly murmur to Sage as I struggle to keep my face from wincing at the onslaught of sound and attention. Get a grip, I tell myself, you’ve done this before! You’ve done this so many times and you’re still acting like a rookie!

I squeeze my hand in my glove and suck in a deep breath before waving at the gathered people. The lights erected along the carpeted walkway into the exclusive entrance for the imperial family shine against the flecks of diamond on my gloves of rare silk. It is surreal to reflect on the amount of danger and blood I’ve survived to enjoy such opulence.

As I am the youngest and the last to arrive via carriage, I thankfully do not have to spend too much time waving before rushing to catch up with the rest of my family ahead of me on the carpet. Julian flashes his trademark, heartthrob grin, causing a woman to faint. Julia stays close to Empress Katya’s side and sulks in a magenta dress with tulle layers so delicate they resemble a flower. The empress hugs her close, playing the part of a loving mother as she waves to the people. Then she turns and waves to me, beckoning me to come closer.

Tell me, if a rattlesnake shook its tail at you, would you approach it or run?

I fall still in the middle of the carpet and the empress smiles even wider, her red lips dazzling in the low light. It’s a knowing smile, the kind your mom shows you she knows you did something dumb and she’s just waiting for you to admit it. My insides twist out of sheer habit while my outside smiles lovingly back. I even crinkle the corner of my eyes for extra emphasis.

Sage cannot follow me onto the carpet, instead staying on the fringe with the other staff who have accompanied us. But if she were here, she would notice the fat drops of perspiration accumulating at my hairline and sense that something was wrong.

“Come,” a voice says suddenly. It’s Augustus, having walked from where he was broodingly standing beside our father to approach me. “The opera is a bore, but from the special imperial box we can stare down at everyone and judge them.”

I cannot help the snicker that comes out. “Judge them on what? Their outfits? Their ability to dictate who their sister can and cannot spend time with?” In front of us, Julian casts an unreadable look in our direction over his shoulder before entering the quiet stairway that leads to the imperial box.

Augustus taps his chin playfully, his dark formal suit a becoming look with his tanned skin and dark hair. “I was thinking more along the lines of determining which faction they are a part of and how much dirty money they are accepting behind closed doors.”

“That does sound a touch more fun,” I admit. The names on lists Emma has presented to me over the years run through my head, organizing themselves categorically into those who partake in the Erudian Empire’s lavish arts scene and those who do not.

It’s weird, but just thinking analytically helps me calm down, my breath coming out more smooth and less choppy than before. The lovers of the opera amongst the nobility are typically associated with the Duvernay faction due to the empress having sponsored many of the stars who will perform on the stage tonight.

“I have something to tell you. About Julian and about... those who he associates with,” I whisper to Augustus suddenly, wishing to tell him about the landmine involving Julian that I stumbled upon recently. But my words get swallowed up as the door gets shut behind us and the wailing crowd disappears.

“What was that?” Augustus asks as we make our way up the stairs, bending his looming stature towards me.

“N-nothing. You look sharp tonight for once. You usually dress like a farmhand.”

“Well, I’d wager I fight better than one, at least. Take my hand so you don’t slip,” Augustus instructs me, taking my poor attempt at humor in stride. “This stairway hasn’t been renovated in about 50 years.”

I bite my lip, slightly annoyed that I didn’t repeat myself. But my confidence balked when I recalled how Emma told me not to pry. Even though Augustus has grown a lot, I’m not sure if he has grown enough to tackle whatever mysteries Julian has tangled himself in. This conspiracy, however large it may be, is a still lake that no doubt hides many horrors beneath it. I’ve studied enough politics to know that whatever it may be could be dangerous, even for a crown prince.

But even if I don’t want to seek out the truth behind this conspiracy, those involved in it sit amongst tonight’s crowd, hungry for a show.

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