The passing weeks unfurled slowly, each day a languid echo of the last. The palace, usually a place of glittering distractions, had grown dreadfully dull for Lola, not for lack of companionship, for her friends remained a lively balm but because a certain emperor was notably absent.
Xander was forever journeying from one kingdom to another, smoothing treaties, tending alliances, and doing all the tiresome duties expected of an emperor. And when he did return, he was buried in affairs of state, leaving Lola adrift in his absence.
She wandered now through the palace gardens, her fingers brushing lazily against the velvety petals of a blooming archway. With a weary sigh, she crouched before a patch of bluebells, her skirts pooling gracefully around her.
"Hello, beautiful," she murmured to a blossom. "Are you as lonely and bored as I am?"
Scoffing softly, she added, "That infuriating emperor... Why make me accustomed to his company if he meant to vanish like mist?" She sighed again, brushing her fingertips along the stem. "Forgive me for venting my spleen on you."
She rose, brushing her skirts just as Emmeline, her ever-watchful maid, hurried into the gardens.
"My lady," Emmeline said with a curtsy. "The emperor's uncle and his wife have arrived at the palace."
Lola straightened, curiosity momentarily brushing aside her melancholy. "Oh! Is that so?" she asked, her voice laced with interest.
Emmeline nodded. "They are expected at the main hall. Shall I escort you?"
"Yes," Lola said, gathering herself. "I must welcome them in His Majesty's stead."
As they walked briskly through the palace corridors, Lola leaned closer, voice low. "Tell me, Emmeline, what are they like? I would rather not stumble into a hornet's nest unprepared."
The maid darted a glance around, ensuring they were alone before whispering, "The emperor's uncle is a duke, my lady, a man known for his pride. It is said he and His Majesty rarely see eye to eye. His duchess, however…" Emmeline hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "She is… not easily pleased. Sharp-tongued and quick to find fault."
Lola exhaled slowly, her resolve hardening. "Then I shall simply have to win her favor."
As they stepped outside, the sound of carriage wheels crunched against the gravel drive. Straightening her posture, Lola smoothed her skirts and clasped her hands demurely in front of her.
When the Duke alighted, she stepped forward with a gracious curtsy. "Good day, my lord. Welcome to Aldovia."
The Duke barely spared her a passing glance before striding brusquely inside, his robes sweeping behind him like storm clouds.
Lola's smile faltered but did not fall; she whispered to herself, Courage, girl. Courage.
The Duchess descended next, her gaze raking over Lola with open disdain. She approached, her movements graceful but dripping in contempt.
Leaning close enough for only Lola to hear, the duchess whispered coldly, "I do not know who you think you are, or what you hope to become here but know this: you do not belong. Before you tarnish all you touch, take your leave."
Without another word, the Duchess swept past her, leaving Lola standing alone, her heart clenching.
For a moment, the bright day seemed dimmer, the flowers less vivid. She pressed her lips together to stave off tears.
Just then, salvation arrived.
"My lady!" Beatrix, one of her maids, hurried toward her, her cheeks flushed with excitement. "The Emperor summons you to the South Wing!"
Lola barely waited for the words to finish. Without hesitation, she lifted her skirts and ran, her heart pounding, her mind racing not with fear of the Duchess's cruel words, but with wild hope.