Mate 08 - Angentha's Land

Sage

The journey to Angentha was upon me.

The maids bustled around, placing my belongings into the grand carriage sent by the emperor himself. A carriage not just for transportation but a statement—a symbol of my status and how well I was supposedly treated in our empire. Yet, despite all the grandeur, I felt nothing but emptiness inside.

Dawn painted the sky in hues of violet and gold, the cool breeze brushing against my skin as I stood near the carriage. The knights assisted me, their faces impassive, merely carrying out their duties. The maids, however, barely concealed their disdain. They hated me for being a slave’s child, for the mere fact that I was given a place above them despite my bloodline. Not a single one of them cared whether I left or stayed. I was just another burden to them, an unwanted presence.

No warmth, no tearful goodbyes.

Only the emperor stood before me, his expression unreadable as always. His voice was firm yet devoid of emotion as he reminded me of my responsibilities.

“Remember, Sage, your actions will reflect our empire. Conduct yourself with dignity. Do not shame us.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” I murmured, bowing my head.

Mistress Leovold, my ever-strict tutor, stepped forward. Her sharp gaze held a mixture of expectation and warning.

“You must remember all I have taught you,” she said, her tone clipped but softer than usual. “Your purpose is to gain Crown Prince Damien’s affection. Do whatever is necessary. Do you understand?”

I clenched my hands into fists. “Yes, mistress.”

The empress and Axel did not come to see me off. I expected as much. They would be happier knowing I was leaving, relieved that I would no longer be a presence in their lives. The knowledge stung, but I forced myself to stand tall. I would not give them the satisfaction of seeing my pain.

Samuel . . . he was still away on his mission. A small pang of disappointment tugged at my heart. At least he had shown me kindness—however brief, however fleeting. For that, I was grateful.

The moment of departure came swiftly. The maids settled into another carriage, leaving me alone in mine. As the wheels creaked into motion and the palace began to shrink from view, I exhaled slowly. The world outside the window was still cloaked in twilight, the last remnants of the moon casting a silver glow over the land.

My fingers drifted to the locket around my neck. With a quiet click, I opened it, revealing the gemstone inside. It pulsed with a faint, otherworldly glow. I pressed a kiss against the cool metal, a silent prayer escaping my lips.

Please, let this journey be safe.

A rustling sound broke the silence. The elder accompanying our journey cleared his throat, his presence a constant reminder of the role I was to fulfill.

“We will travel for ten hours before we reach the portal to Angentha,” he informed me, calm but weighty with meaning. “Our duty is to ensure your arrival and remain until the first marking is complete.”

I tensed at his words, my heart thudding in my chest. The weight of my obligations settled heavily on my shoulders. My fate was sealed.

I stared out into the darkness, my fingers tightening around my locket.

No turning back now.

The carriages moved steadily along the stone-paved road, the rhythmic clatter of hooves against the ground blending with the knights’ hushed murmurs. The road stretched endlessly ahead, shrouded in mist as dawn gave way to early morning.

Hours passed in silence, broken only by the occasional call from the front guards signaling adjustments in our route. I sat stiffly in my seat, the rich velvet cushions doing little to ease the tension in my body.

“We will reach the portal soon,” Elder Hedwig stated, breaking the silence.

I nodded, not trusting my voice.

Beyond the hills, an ancient archway emerged from the dense forest. Its towering stone structure glowed faintly with intricate carvings of celestial beings intertwined with symbols of passage. The sight of it sent a shiver down my spine.

As we neared, the carriages stopped, and the knights dismounted. The elder stepped forward, raising his hands as he chanted in a low, reverberating tone. The air shimmered, the markings on the portal beginning to glow a brilliant gold.

“This portal will transport us directly to the capital of Angentha,” the elder announced, turning toward me. “Once we step through, there is no returning until your duty is complete.”

I swallowed hard—the weight of those words pressed down on me. My fingers trembled as I lifted my locket again, gripping it tightly as if it could anchor me.

One by one, the knights stepped through the glowing arch, their forms vanishing into the golden light. The elder extended a hand toward me.

“It is time, Lady Sage.”

I took a deep breath and stepped forward. The light engulfed me, and the world melted into nothingness.

A rush of heat enveloped me as I stepped through the portal, a sensation both suffocating and invigorating. For a fleeting moment, I felt weightless, like I was drifting into a void of golden light. Then, with a jolt, the world solidified around me once more.

The capital of Angentha stood before me in breathtaking grandeur. Towering spires of ivory and gold pierced the sky, their tips glinting in the mid-morning sun. Streets paved with polished stone stretched in intricate patterns, bustling with people adorned in fine silks and embroidered cloaks. The scent of blooming jasmine and exotic spices lingered in the air, starkly contrasting the sterile coldness of the imperial palace I had left behind.

My breath hitched as I took in the sight before me. This place, so different from what I had known, was to be my home now.

The elder emerged beside me, his expression unreadable as he surveyed the scene. “Welcome to Angentha, Lady Sage. From this moment on, you must tread carefully.”

I nodded, masking the turmoil within me. Careful was all I had ever been.

A regal carriage awaited us at the entrance to the portal grounds, adorned with the royal crest of Angentha—a silver phoenix entwined with a crescent moon. The moment I stepped inside, I felt the weight of expectation settle upon my shoulders again.

The ride through the city was a blur of sights and sounds. Merchants called out their wares, street performers dazzled onlookers with feats of magic and acrobatics, and nobles strode past in their finery, their expressions a careful blend of curiosity and detachment as they glanced at our passing carriage.

At last, the grand palace loomed ahead, its towering gates opening to reveal an opulent courtyard lined with marble fountains and flowering trees. Servants bowed in practiced unison as we arrived, their faces devoid of any true warmth.

The elders stood beside me, their presence a silent testament to the moment’s weight. Across from us, the elders of Angentha flanked their emperor, a man of regal bearing whose gaze met mine with measured curiosity.

Elder Hedwig stepped forward, his voice carrying the gravity of an ancient decree. “The oracle has spoken. The fate of Princess Sage from Battlerce is now entwined with this land.” He paused, his gaze sweeping over the assembled figures. “Once the first marking is complete, our duty will be fulfilled, and we shall take leave.”

The first marking . . . . My stomach twisted at the thought, but I kept my expression calm.

One of Angentha’s elders stepped forward, inclining his head respectfully. “The words of the oracle are also known to us, and we honor its wisdom. This path has been set before us all.”

The emperor of Angenta took a measured step forward, his voice steady yet welcoming. “I am Emperor Raymond Tobias of Angentha. You stand within my domain, Lady Sage. May this meeting be the first of our understanding.”

I inclined my head in return. “The honor is mine, Emperor Raymond. The oracle’s words bind us to this course, and I will walk it with the wisdom of those who came before me."

A murmur of approval rippled through both groups of elders as they exchanged nods, a silent acknowledgment of the prophecy’s significance. The path had been set, and there was no turning back.

“We have brought gifts from our empire,” I announced, my voice steady and respectful. At my signal, the knights stepped forward, carefully placing the lavishly wrapped offerings before us.

Emperor Raymond observed the gifts composedly before offering a gracious nod. “Thank you for your generosity. Your kindness is deeply appreciated,” he said. “The head maid will escort you to your temporary chambers so you may rest. My son, Damien, is still away on a mission to fight monsters at the border and cannot meet you now, but I am certain he will be pleased to know you have arrived safely.”

I bowed slightly in acknowledgment. “I am honored by your hospitality, Your Highness. With your permission, I shall take my leave now.”

The steward motioned me to follow, leading me to my temporary chambers. As we walked, whispers from my maids reached my ears.

“She doesn't deserve this.”

“A slave’s child, given such luxury? It’s disgraceful.”

Anger flared in my chest. I halted in place, turning to face them with a sharp glare. “Leave me. All of you.”

They hesitated, exchanging glances, but the authority in my voice left no room for argument. One by one, they scurried away, leaving me in the vast, silent chamber.

Alone, at last.

I let out a slow breath and walked toward the window, my fingers grazing the cool glass as I gazed outside. Angentha’s palace differed from the one I had known—its architecture was fluid, almost ethereal, its halls filled with hushed reverence rather than rigid order. The customs, too, seemed foreign yet deeply ingrained in every movement of the people around me.

Beyond the walls, spring had arrived in full bloom. The soft pink hues of cherry blossoms dusted the air like delicate whispers, their petals swirling in the breeze. Yet, despite the beauty of it all, a weight settled in my chest.

Damien was not here. He was still in the mountains, fighting the monsters threatening this land. He would not return for a while.

The thought of meeting him twisted my insides with unease. How was I supposed to face him? To gain his favor when I was nothing more than a pawn in this grand scheme?

I exhaled slowly, pressing my forehead against the windowpane. But I had no choice. My fate was already set in motion.

I was summoned to a grand dinner with Emperor Raymond and Empress Nyx that evening. Once chatty and lighthearted, the maids now worked in tense silence as they dressed me in layers of silk and embroidered lace. Their hushed demeanor directly resulted from my earlier outburst, a reminder that my anger had left a lingering unease in the air.

The gown they chose for me was regal—midnight blue with silver threading that shimmered under the candlelight. A deliberate choice, no doubt, to make me appear more palatable to the imperial court. But no amount of finery could erase the weight pressing down my shoulders.

The great hall was a masterpiece of craftsmanship—towering pillars, golden chandeliers casting warm hues, and a long banquet table adorned with delicacies from across the empire. My heart pounded, but I moved forward with the grace befitting a princess.

Lowering myself into a perfect curtsy, I addressed the rulers of Angentha. “I greet the soaring heights of Angentha, Emperor Raymond and Empress Nyx.” My voice was steady, unwavering. I had spent countless hours studying their customs before setting foot in this palace, ensuring that not even the smallest detail of etiquette was overlooked.

A sharp gaze flickered in the empress’s eyes, assessing, testing. When I turned to the elders, I took their hands one by one and pressed a reverent kiss upon them. “To the elders, I offer my deepest respects. Good evening.”

They nodded approvingly, their aged faces unreadable, but the empress’s reaction struck me. A slow smirk curled her lips, an expression of amusement tinged with something else—something less kind.

“Not bad for someone from Battlerce,” she mused, her voice a dagger wrapped in silk.

I held her gaze, refusing to flinch.

“Sit down, Lady Sage,” the emperor interjected smoothly. “There is no need for such formality. We will soon be family, after all.”

The words settled over me like a heavy cloak. Family. A hollow concept in the empire I came from.

I took my seat, my posture poised but guarded. The emperor inquired about my room, to which I replied, “They are magnificent.”

The empress arched a brow, her sharp eyes reading far beyond my words. “How humble of you, Lady Sage. But I imagine your chambers back home are far grander.”

Ah. So she knows.

Knows that my homeland had no warm embrace for me, that I was more pawn than a princess, more prisoner than a child of an empire. But if she expected to see me falter, she would be disappointed.

“It is well enough for a princess like me,” I said, my tone carrying the weight of my birthright. No matter how they saw me, I was still the daughter of an emperor.

The air in the hall tightened, the flickering candlelight casting elongated shadows as the silence stretched between us.

Then Elder Hedwig, ever the voice of tradition, spoke, “The first marking will commence next month. We must not delay—it is fate that has intertwined their paths.”

A shift in the room. Uncertainty. Displeasure.

“We respect fate,” the emperor said carefully, “but certain regions of the border still require Damien’s presence. Perhaps we should wait until the monsters subside.”

The empress’s voice was smooth but laced with clear reluctance. “Yes, the circumstances are precarious. Surely, we cannot afford to rush into—”

“The oracle must not be ignored,” the elder of Angentha interjected, his voice firm. “We have honored these traditions since long before Your Majesty’s reign.”

A sharp breath. A flicker of barely concealed frustration from the empress.

“Then it is settled,” Emperor Raymond declared, his voice final. “The first marking will take place next month.”

The empress’s gaze snapped to mine, cold and unyielding, her displeasure a storm contained only by decorum.

“Damien deserves a perfect princess,” she murmured, her words a razor’s edge. “Someone like Rosana Drottghes. But fate, it seems, has been unkind to us.”

A challenge. A dismissal.

Elder Hedwig, ever my shield in this unwelcoming kingdom, lifted his chin. “Fate has spoken, Your Majesty. It is not ours to defy.”

Silence fell once more, thick with unspoken tensions.

The empress’s gaze lingered on me for a moment longer before she finally set down her goblet with a soft clink against the marble table. Her perfectly manicured fingers tapped idly against the rim, a slow, calculated rhythm that sent an unspoken message—one I refused to decipher as fear.

The tension in the hall was thick, pressing against my skin like an invisible force. The elders, though outwardly composed, were watching—me, the empress, even the emperor himself. I could sense it in how their eyes flickered with unspoken thoughts, their unreadable expressions.

The meal continued, but the weight of expectation had stolen my appetite.

“Tell me, Lady Sage,” the empress spoke again, her tone deceptively smooth. “Since you have studied our traditions so thoroughly, I wonder—do you believe in fate?”

It was a question meant to corner me—a test to see whether I would submit to the ideals of this empire or show defiance.

I lifted my chin slightly, meeting her gaze with steady confidence. “Fate is the will of the Moon Goddess. To deny it would be foolish.”

The elders murmured their approval, though I did not miss the slight narrowing of the empress’s eyes. She leaned forward, her expression sharp yet elegant. “And yet,” she mused, “not all fates are kind. Some are . . . cruel.”

I knew what she was implying—that fate had been cruel to her son by binding him to someone like me, a princess with tainted blood. The blood of a slave.

Instead of rising to the bait, I smiled, slow and deliberate. “It is not for us to decide whether fate is kind or cruel, Your Majesty. It is for us to endure and prove ourselves worthy of it.”

The emperor let out a quiet chuckle, clearly amused by the exchange. “Well said,” he remarked. “Strength in adversity is a mark of true royalty.”

The empress remained silent momentarily, her eyes studying me with a new intensity. Then, as if dismissing the entire conversation as trivial, she turned to one of the servants and gestured for more wine to be poured.

Elder Hedwig cleared his throat, returning the conversation to the matter. “The first marking will be an important event, and all of Angenthan’s will bear witness. Preparations must begin immediately.”

“Of course,” the emperor agreed. “We will ensure it is done properly, honoring the old ways.”

The empress inhaled slowly, composing herself before offering a delicate smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Naturally. We must uphold our traditions, no matter the circumstances.”

The meaning was clear. No matter how undeserving she believed I was, the ceremony would go forward. Fate had sealed my place in this kingdom, whether she accepted it or not.

A servant approached and refilled my goblet with rich crimson wine. I lifted it, tilting it slightly before taking a slow sip.

The empress was powerful, calculating, and relentless. But I had spent my entire life surviving under the weight of expectations, clawing through the shadows of my empire’s cruelty.

She was not the first to try and break me.

And she would not be the last.

The night stretched on, filled with veiled words and quiet manipulations. The elders spoke of omens and celestial signs, the emperor talked about the state of the borders, and the empress occasionally inserted her subtle jabs, waiting for me to falter.

But I did not.

When the final course was served, and the meal ended, I rose from my seat with the same unwavering grace I had entered with.

“Thank you for your hospitality, Your Majesties,” I said smoothly, dipping into a flawless curtsy. “It has been an enlightening evening.”

The emperor nodded approvingly. The elders exchanged quiet glances.

The empress simply smiled.

A slow, knowing smile that promised this was far from over.

As I turned to leave, the weight of her gaze burned into my back.

This was only the beginning.