#ei de alger obelia

[ladyriia]

Lucas: *bro going to the World Tree and finding out that no, the Tree's not hiding all it's fruits, but half of them have already been harvested* Uh??? WHO DID THIS?!

---

Ei: *got Lucas to admit when the fruits were going to appear, pinpointed the location and had a party search harvest the fruits before distributing these fruits evenly on the continent, feeling his anger from miles and miles away* Uh. Suck it.

Athy: What's wrong?

Ei: Oh, nothing. *hands her a fruit from the World Tree sitting in a basket on the table* Want some?

Dunno if I should make this cannon to the fic but, she would TOTALLY do that just to spite him

[flowerofbenevolence]

Twisted Wonderland Housewardens with a LP! Athanasia! Reader

This is a gift for @blues824, who inspired me with their amazing work, specifically their headcanons. This was also originally going to be a request, but since they are currently on a hiatus, I decided to make this myself.

Preface: Once upon a time, you were the unloved, ignored, and abandoned second princess of the Empire of Obelia. The nobles would always mock you for being the daughter of the emperor and a mere dancer. Even your father, the cold-hearted Emperor Claude De Alger Obelia, utterly despised you since you had killed your mother during childbirth. Your older half-sister, Crown Princess Jeanette, on the other hand, was beloved by all for her beauty, kindness, and being the daughter of the emperor and a high-ranking noble and was often heralded as "The Lovely Princess". In the end, when you were framed for poisoning your lovely older sister, your cruel father sentenced you to death, only for you to be reincarnated into the magical world of Twisted Wonderland.

I used to read the manga, "Who Made Me a Princess" a long time ago and dropped it during the chapters when Claude lost his memories. One day, I will return to it.

Riddle was absolutely stunned by your beauty the very moment he laid eyes on you. With your platinum blonde locks, delicate, fair complexion, and of course, jeweled blue eyes, you were most definitely the most beautiful girl he had ever seen. But of course, being a strict and serious control freak, he often yelled at you for breaking rules and associating with idiots like Ace and Deuce. He would never admit it, but he was jealous that someone as gorgeous and graceful as you would choose to associate with such imbeciles rather than him.

After his overblot, however, he found that his infatuation with your beauty and grace become a much deeper, more passionate, true love for you. You understood his pain of being a misunderstood, heartbroken little boy with a strict, abusive mother more than anyone else did, and never blamed him for becoming a monster. Sevens, you had even cried tears of heartbreak and empathy alongside him! Apparently, you were not just pretty on the outside, but beautiful within as well. And for that reason, he would always in debt, and in love, with you.

He seriously never understood why you were always so gloomy and withdrawn. Every time he or someone tried to compliment or praise you, you would always respond in such a self-deprecating way that it broke his heart. Didn't you know just how lovely you were? Something in him told him that something terrible must have happened to you for you have such low self-esteem.

He was utterly horrified when you told him about your past. He had his own fair share of heartless parents, to have been executed at the hands of your own father . . . how could someone be so cruel!? It didn't take long before his shock became fury. How dare - How dare someone do such horrid things to you - the loveliest rose of the field!?

"Oh, my rose . . . what terrible things you have endured! Don't worry, while you weren't the lovely princess of your past life, while you aren't a princess anymore, while you are technically nonexistent in this world, you will always be The Lovely Princess to me - no - you will be the Wonderful White Queen!"

When Leona first laid eyes on you, he pretended not to care, but don't be fooled. His eyes widened slightly upon perceiving such beauty, before later returning to sleep, allowing your face to plant itself into his mind like a seed. He had seen beautiful women before, but never one with eyes like jewels. Immediately, he ordered Ruggie to do research on jeweled eyed people and was infuriated when he came back empty-handed. He just had to know more about you and your kind.

After your saved him from his overblot, it would be safe to say that his deep fascination with your eyes became an intense, powerful love. You had a pure soul that had purified his, and he would always be enamored with you for it. However, just because you had a pure soul didn't mean you were completely pure and innocent of all the evil in the world. He could see that with the depressed and sullen manner of which you carried yourself. Upon asking you about it, he surprisingly was unsurprised to know that you had lived a terrible life in the past, full of humiliation, a malevolent father, and a negligent older sister. He also wasn't surprised to know that you had been a princess. It honestly kind of explained the sophisticated manner you conducted yourself with. The only thing he was shocked about was the fact that you had died, specifically executed, and came back to life. However, surprised or not, that didn't mean that Leona's blood didn't boil. He had his own experiences with being in the shadow of your older sibling, but to have been sentenced to death because of it? That was a whole other level of cruelty.

"Oh, kitten . . . I can't imagine all of the things you went through. Always know that while I'm unable to make you an empress, you'll always be the lovely princess in my heart."

Unlike the others, upon laying eyes on you, Azul couldn't care less about your looks. Or at least, not yet. Instead, he legit thought that because you had jeweled eyes, you had the ability to cry jewels, and he wanted to make a profit out of it. Imagine his disappointment when he found out you couldn't. It was, however, after that he started to take in consideration your appearance. With your ethereal, otherworldly beauty that rivaled Vil's, he decided to try and turn you into a model and make money off you from there. Imagine his disappointment when you refused.

He honestly had no clue why you were so insecure. Couldn't you see how beautiful you were!? It threw him into a jealous rage. You should have been grateful. Afterall, some people, such as himself, grew up being mocked for being ugly, and people like you were far more than fortunate. However, something inside him just commanded him to find out more about you, and what caused you to be so sorrowful.

He found out shortly after the two of you started dating, which was after he fell in love with you for saving his life following his overblot. His heart broke knowing all of the things you must have endured as the unloved second princess of Obelia. He wanted to find that wicked father of yours and make him sign a contract that would bind him to the very bottom of the sea even if he lived in another world. How dare someone hurt his angelfish like this!?

He also began to wonder if he was good enough for you. Regardless of how hated you were in your first life, you were still a princess. He, on the other hand, was the son of a mere restaurant owner as well as an unsightly octo-mer. However, when you assured him that you loved him and that he was more than worthy of you, he started crying tears of joy. Oh, he would have destroyed the entire malevolent empire of Obelia if you simply asked.

When Kalim first saw you, you reminded him of his favorite jewel back at home. He immediately began bombarding you with questions. Where did you get those contact lenses? Why were your eyes jeweled? Were there other jeweled eye people in your world??

It was only when he saw how uncomfortable you were that he stopped. However, that didn't mean that like with everyone, he tried to be friends with you. He honestly was very confused at how fragile and anxious you were. Did he do something wrong? Why were you avoiding him? Why did you evade everyone? But following Jamil's advice, later stopped.

Speaking of Jamil, following the events of Book 4, Kalim found himself falling for you. You had revealed to him the wicked conspiracy of his most trusted companion. You had comforted him and offered advice during his time of grief and feelings of betrayal. But most of all, in stark contrast to your usually cowardly disposition, had saved the life of his friend.

When you told him about your past, he initially refused to believe you and thought you were joking. Executed at the hands of your own father? You must be pretending to be a novel protagonist. There was no way anyone in the world could possibly be that evil, right? It wasn't until he saw you crying that he realized you were being dead serious. Guilt and horror immediately flooded his heart as he began apologizing nonstop and comforting you. He couldn't believe someone as lovely and loving as you, had gone through something so terrible. Sevens, he couldn't even believe that someone as innocent and graceful as you, was related to a monster! He promises that for as long as he lives, he would make the happiest girl alive until his kindness rivals the cruelty of that wicked father of yours.

When he first laid eyes on you, he could feel the claws of envy digging deeply into his heart. With your delicate, fairy-like facial features and ocean blue gemstone-like eyes, you most definitely were the fairest of all, even topping Neige in all his glory. So, without a shadow of a doubt, he was hatefully, painfully jealous of you. First, he had Neige, and now he's got you.

His resentment only worsens when he sees how shy and gloomy you are. Afterall, insecurity does imply wasting potential and a lack of tenacity, and Vil hates those who put no effort into improving themselves. Yet something inside him made him feel guilty to be harsh on you. He couldn't understand. Surely this was because he found your beauty irresistible, even if you didn't see it.

After you saved and forgave from overblot, however, his perception made a 180. He began to believe that you were an angel who was not only beautiful, but humble as well, and merciful despite the evils of the world. The only thing that remained the same was his confusion towards your insecurity. Didn't you know how honored he was to be in your presence? Didn't you know how precious you were???

He was absolutely heartbroken when you told him about your past. Unlike Kalim, he knew for a fact that you were not joking because of all the tears that stained your face, and because he's an actor who knew when people were telling a story or not.

"Oh, you poor thing! That evil emperor doesn't deserve to have such an amazing woman like you as his daughter! Always remember, meine liebe, that you are precious and no one in this world can compare with your beauty both inside and out!"

He's also deeply irritated by the story of "The Lovely Princess". How disgustingly trashy! Not only is the main protagonist wayyyy too boring and bland, but she made you suffer alongside your father! If it were to be a movie, play, or TV show, he wouldn't play it even if it was the last chance he got to play the main protagonist.

(Before reading Idia's part, please know that I have not finished Book 6 and am not very familiar Idia's character, so this mayyyy be inaccurate.)

OMG! She looks like a waifu from a manga or anime! Is what he thinks when he first lays eyes on you. You were just so beautiful, you had to an isekai protagonist (and you are!) Your eyes were so glamorous, they couldn't possibly be real! But, of course, being the otaku shut-in he is, he never had the audacity to ask you about where you got your contacts. As a result, he was stuck admiring you from afar.

His crush on you only grew as he saw how much of an introvert you were. You were constantly surrounded by people who told you to have more confidence in yourself, that it reminded him of himself and Ortho. As a result, he strongly empathized with you and your struggle, and that connection was just watered the flower of his love.

When you told him about how you were executed by your father in your past life, he honestly felt like summoning S.T.Y.X.'s forces to blow up the Obelia Empire. Let those sucker normies rot in Tartarus! How dare they harm his waifu like this!? He caresses your cheek, assuring you that while you didn't manage to become the Lovely Princess, you would always be his Persephone.

(Again, since I have not finished Book 6, I have not even STARTED Book 7)

When Malleus first laid eyes on you, not only did he fall head over heels in love at first sight, but he also thought you were a fellow fairy. He was very surprised when he saw your round human ears. who knew humans could be so beautiful? Not to mention how your eyes looked like jewels and dragons loved shiny treasures. Either way, he fell ardently infatuated with you for being the first person to not fear him.

He was honestly very intrigued to see that you were a very shy person. People normally avoided him about of fear, but you normally avoided people out of fear. It was kind of like opposites attract. He, who yearned for friendship despite being feared like a monster was in love with you, who yearned for loneliness despite attracting attention with your beauty.

He also grew suspicious of your status as a commoner when he saw how sophisticated your manners were. You carried yourself with poise and grace, like how a future empress was taught to do. Of course, he wouldn't dare accuse you of lying to him, but he began to wonder if there was more to the story.

When you told him about your past as the abandoned princess of Obelia, a storm started brewing as he prepared to strike down the entire wretched empire of Obelia. How dare someone harm his Y/N!?

"Oh, my dear . . . How dare someone do that to you!? And your one and only kindred at that! Curse that treacherous father of yours! Don't worry. With me, you will forever be safe and happy. Anyone who dares to offend you shall face my wrath. I will make sure of it."

When you tell him that you told him you were a commoner instead of an (abandoned) princess because you were ashamed of that fact that you were the abandoned princess of a kingdom that didn't exist in this world and that your mother was a commoner, he tells you,

"Oh, darling, that's nothing to be ashamed of. I will always love you even if you are a peasant."

[sharper-than-a-serpents-tooth]

that blonde haired blue eyed attendant who appeared during the council of the great dukes is an illegitimate de Alger Obelia bastard to me

someone was trying to pull a Roger Alpheus but Anastacius beat them to it

[industria-adastra]

[WMMAP] - Magnum Opus: Flipping through a child's eulogy (3/5)

Prev - Next

Summary: It’s strange, trying to get used to a new puzzle piece in her incomplete picture. But Jennette is kind, and with the waves of change alongside her. So Athanasia dares to hope.

But it is not to be.

Note: Sorry this took a while but admittedly this took a lot longer than I expected. Chapter 3 ended up getting split but this is where most of the build-up is for before the anvil really drops in this now 5-parter of LP timeline Athy's moral bankruptcy arc.

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After the disastrous event that was her debut—By the sun and stars of Obelia she had a sister —Athanasia found herself staring, empty-eyed, up at the ceiling. She had no real idea of how she even got herself back to her room, or how and why no one seemed to stop her. If only to bombard her with invasive questions about her as the nobles had done so earlier.

But then again, they were probably all occupied with Jennette, weren't they? A new princess, who looked far lovelier than the forgotten princess in blue. Jennette Margarita, a shining new piece on the chessboard of noble politics. 

Athanasia rolls over to stare emptily at the overgrown greenery beyond the window. The glass is one of the only objects still sparkling clean compared to the rest of the dusty rooms in the palace. 

Lily must’ve cleaned it earlier. 

The garden, as beautiful as it was, was wild and overgrown. How many years had it been since someone took proper care of it? Her body curls within herself, drawing her eyes away.

A cold weight settles itself on her shoulder. Strokes her in a comforting manner with only the brush of freezing air to alert Athanasia to her mama’s movement. 

A few minutes later, that cold hand is replaced by another much warmer one.

“I…heard about it. Your debut, that is. What happened during it was…” Lily trails off, unable to find a perfect word to encapsulate this entire situation.

And then, she shakes her head, her resolve strengthening. “But you should know, Princ—No, Athanasia —that no matter what happens, I’ll always be by your side.” Her hand moved to comb through her hair, delicate fingers picking out the hidden ties within her hair. “And you know why?”

Athanasia stays silent, merely turning her head to look up at Lily.

“Because I promised, remember? And you know that, if it’s you, Athanasia, I will always, always, keep my promises to you.”

(Diana takes the moment to let her emotions be known, an all-encompassing wave that cocoons Athanasia in its warmth. Smooth like silk and gentle to the touch, it was all too easy to understand.)

And if Athanasia’s eyes start to overflow with tears, and her body begins to shake, neither Lily nor Diana makes any comment about it. They simply stay beside her. A silent comfort.

-

With the sudden reveal of Jennette—a potential new heir—everything was thrown into chaos. Both nobles and commoners gossip and whisper, wondering about the royal family. Of changes in relationships and the succession of the royal family. Since Jennette Margarita was older, would whoever married her become emperor instead? (Groups of noble boys sigh in relief, because although they could not remember what Jennette looked like in detail, they remembered a girl who was so lovely and beautiful beyond comparison. Her image buzzed in their minds like a persistent fly.)

But, most said, wouldn’t you think it’s a terribly one-sided battle?

After all, how would the second princess, the daughter of a lowborn commoner and unknown to all, even compare to the lovely Margarita girl? 

Rumours fly from the mouths of the members of the most exciting debutante of His Majesty’s age. About Jennette Margarita—now Jennette de Alger Obelia—they would say, sweet and kind and perhaps with a head sometimes up in the clouds, but ever so darling and dear, the new princess of theirs. About Athanasia de Alger Obelia, they’d sneer, gloomy and despondent, who would ever want her?

And so, and so, everyone waits with bated breath to see whether their speculations will be proven correct.

And they would be, time and time again, until one day they’d be pulled from the peak of their euphoria, down into the flames of hell and horror.

-

When they first meet, it is within the boundary of the Ruby Palace, in an overgrown field of grass and wildflowers and weeds.

Athanasia is practising her magic again, lying under the cooling shade of a large tree. Raven lies nearby, and her mother watches on with interest. The whispers and wailing in her ears have all but stopped after the trainwreck that was her debut, but still, Athanasia prefers the quiet open of this area. Better than the confining, decaying air of the Ruby Palace. Only Lily made it seem alive in there. But today she seems to be busier than usual, so Athanasia has quietly left her to her work.

Her black-blue mana weaves shapes in the air, dancing through the plants, giving energy to some, taking energy from others. It crackles and pops as it does so, staccato beats following a discordant rhythm. 

Today is a fine day.

Until, of course, there’s a sudden intrusion in the form of her newly “discovered” older sister. Athanasia immediately stops any usage of magic, wary, but puts on a polite smile in greeting. A question blooms within both her and her mother’s minds as they wonder: What would Jennette Margarita be like in relative privacy?

Unknowingly, Jennette offers a rather positive answer to that.

“Hello! You’re Athanasia, right? I’m so glad I finally got to meet you!” Jennette beams at her, lowering herself to clasp Athanasia’s hands in her own. Athanasia, in turn, fights the urge to flinch away at the suddenness of her actions. She seemed…highly forward, and almost brash in her approach. 

But, it wasn’t like this eagerness to know herself, know Athanasia as a person, from her new… sister wasn’t wanted. Athanasia wonders if she could get used to it. Get used to positive attention from a different member of her family (not from the one she truly desired it from).

Warmth blooms, just a little. But it’s there. Maybe she still could. Maybe she could.

Athanasia simply opts to listen, watching Jennette ramble on about her long-lived desire to meet her, watching her grow more and more nervous. Raven, now having surreptitiously moved over to her lap, watches Jennette carefully. 

Jennette is an open person, speaking of endless details about herself, to the point where one would think she’d never learned the meaning of the word “discreet”. Athanasia learns about Jennette’s favourite flowers (daisies), her favourite colour (blue), her favourite pastimes, and her hopes and dreams for her newly reunited family.

She doesn’t have the heart to tell her that their father, whilst a good and just man, is not one to offset his work in order to spend time with his children. So she smiles, and answers every question Jennette goes on to ask her with polite, near-perfunctory answers. 

Athanasia takes the time to take in Jennette’s features—the brief glances during her debut, marred by her despair, were not enough to form a good image of her within her mind. And Athanasia, as much as she tries, cannot fathom how this is her sister of another mother. Jennette’s hair is brown, a trait inherited from her mother, where generations of their family had been blond. The only thing she can find that even remotely reminds her of their father is Jennette’s jewel-blue eyes, and even then, they gleam with green when the sunlight passes over them.

Jennette’s features are, strangely enough, like a mirage. An aura of magic coats her skin; something lurks, trapped beneath her flesh, thick and sticky yet as flexible as water. It pulls at the light, softening her features and sharpening them at the same time, as if her creator still could not make up his mind on how he wished for her to look. Still, it always tries its best to make Jennette look as physically attractive as possible. Athanasia recognises this kind of magic, having entangled her hands within similar variations.

Black magic. Forbidden magic. Layers upon layers of it, as if it were the makeup of her sister’s existence.

Strange. Should she question Jennette about it? While she’s still chattering away at her? Athanasia mulls upon this decision, unconsciously starting to comb her fingers through Raven’s thick fur.

Unfortunately, it isn’t long before a maid calls for Jennette, pulling her away from the odd Second Princess with distrustful eyes. They do not trust her with her new sister. Evidently, they read too many melodramatic novels.  

Now that Jennette has left, her mother comes closer, having observed the entire interaction. And Athanasia sees that her gaze is cold, as they watch Jennette move further away from the Ruby Palace. 

She wonders where Jennette lives, if not in the Ruby Palace like her. (Whichever palace it was, it would be one more well-loved than hers)

“Could you feel it too, Mother?” She asks, staring at this icy version of her always-warm mother. “There’s so much magic woven within her, and it’s… different from how the mages of the Black Tower feel. I can barely even feel anything similar to my mana, the royal family’s mana, because most of it—” She pauses, and sees her mother tense, looking pointedly away.  Athanasia pretends she doesn’t see it. “Most of it feels like… Black magic. Forbidden, cursed, magic.”

It takes a while for her mother to respond.

“The Penelope I knew—or rather, the emperor told me about—was never magically inclined. Ambitious and beautiful, but with barely an ounce of usable mana to become even a low-level mage.” Her mother still doesn’t look at her. Athanasia is unsure what to make of this strange non-answer.

“So, it’s artificial then? I assume it would be before birth, as otherwise, I believe she would not be quite so… her . But whyever would Father agree to such procedures? I didn’t think he’d be the kind of person to willingly subject his family to such danger. Even if Penelope Judith must’ve asked for it. Especially since our bloodline practically guarantees some degree of usable mana compared to others.” It’s a puzzling thought for Athanasia, an uncomfortable, squirmy sort of thought. Father, the holy Emperor of Obelia, someone who’d sink his hands up to his forearms in forbidden magic? Athanasia banishes that thought as quickly as possible. 

Diana cannot bear to tell her daughter what the voices have told her, what her memories are telling her. That Penelope Judith had only lain with Claude’s brother. That Jennette was unlikely to be his daughter. That Claude knew this and yet was more welcoming to his own niece than a daughter he had with someone he had so desperately claimed to love. So she chooses her words carefully, measuring them within her mind before allowing them to fall from her lips.

“...I think, Athy, that—” Diana’s face is unsteady, a crack in the glass as she abruptly stops. “—that when it comes to people we love, we may not always know them as well as we think we do, because there are so many facets to a person.” 

Vague, vague, vague. Her mother’s answer is vague and does little to calm her with its implications. But Athanasia doesn’t want to argue. 

“I know.” That is all Athanasia says in reply, and that is all she leaves it to be.

(Hate was so easy to cultivate these days, when one’s emotions were connected to those of others.)

Such blissful ignorance is something she wants to keep her only child cradled safely within, if only so she would not be further hurt. She descends to wrap her arms around Athanasia, her only treasure, her most precious beloved child.

They sit in silence together for a little while longer. Yet, Athanasia notes, as she looks up at the darkening sky, it seems like a storm would come. And soon.

-

Jennette Margarita…no, Jennette de Alger Obelia is an enigma to her. An enigma through her very existence and how she is. How she treats everyone. 

An older half-sister she’d never met, with a personality she’d never gotten accustomed to. She is a cheerful, sunny girl in contrast to Athanasia’s dark and gloomy disposition. Forceful in her own ways like a gentle force of nature. Athanasia doesn’t think she’s a particularly bright girl, not instinctively picking up on how and why the servants and guards react like so depending on which princess they’re encountering. Jennette didn’t seem particularly well-read either, having seemingly been kept within an isolated bubble for a large part of her years. A bubble that was tailored to how her previous guardians saw fit to design. A bubble that she accepted without much thought. 

Athanasia had torn apart her own bubble a long, long time ago.

But Jennette is kind. At the very least, she treats her with the desire to become close. And perhaps, that is what draws Athanasia toward her, like a moth finding another source of light to hold onto. A little bit more affection to have and consume, another island in a sea of apathy. She isn’t sure if she’s being too greedy, coveting another pair of warm arms and a warm smile. 

(Athanasia remembers a face as solid and cold as ice from years ago. With another member in the family, one that he clearly cared about—with the unceasing flow of new baubles and fabrics given to her—would he welcome her now? A girl who’d do her best to repay his love and attention with all her being?

She doesn’t know the answer until one fateful tea party.) 

-

Meeting her father again for the first time in years is not as much of a happy affair as Athanasia thought it’d be. 

For one, her tea sits cold on her plate, and Athanasia also finds that her appetite has long left her. There is no mention of any of her dedication to the country and her studies, nor her desire to be useful to him. No, her father simply ignores her in favour of Jennette. Watching her, though not with familiar warmth.

It’s an emotion entirely different from her mother’s, and something about it makes her feel cold. The awkward silence hangs like a sword on a thread, as Jennette nervously nibbles on her snacks. Not even her typically sunny demeanour can defrost the ice lingering in the air here.

At least Mother is here, gently squeezing her, just enough to feel her warm-cold presence. Athanasia wonders why she hasn’t shown herself to her husband, pushing away memories of derisive whispers about a low-born dancer with more grace in her pinky toe than in any of their entire beings. Her fingers fiddle with one another, now wishing she were in the royal library instead, studying to be better.

At last, Jennette takes the plunge to end the awkward atmosphere.

“F-father!” She practically shouts, “I-I’ve heard that Athanasia is quite good in her studies, so maybe there is something she could help you with?”  Sweat lightly lines the side of her head, glistening. Her hands fumble about with the polished silver utensils.

The blatant plead for them to interact is so evident, that it would have been more subtle to plunge a sword into his gut. Athanasia barely keeps her muscles from reflexively cringing. But at the very same time, a bit of hope dared to bloom. Perhaps her father simply needed a little prompting. 

And it seems like he did, because right after, he turns to her, the same look of apathy still on his face, but he is looking at her and Athanasia’s mind runs through hundreds of imaginary conversation starters.

“Is that so?” He says, deceptively light before his next words. “Athanasia…”  Pausing, he appears to be contemplating something. “...so that was your name. And what an amusingly arrogant one it is. Who’s daughter were you, to have thought you’d be able to live up to such a name?” Cold like always, he fixes the full force of his icy gaze onto her, pinning her down like a butterfly specimen to be thoroughly examined. He eased himself into a languid position on his chair as best as possible, waiting, demanding her answer.

Her mother’s arms tighten imperceptibly, just as Athanasia feels a twang of disappointment at her father’s blatant forgetting of her beautiful, wonderful mother. It clashes with the rush of emotion that sears through her veins at having her father’s full attention on her (though not because of her). 

Suddenly, a rush of noise fills her ears, phantom memories of blood and death coming back from long ago. It is vivid and hazy in her mind’s eye, overlapping multiple perspectives into one as she steadily gazes back at him. 

Yet he is always covered in blood.

Athanasia tastes blood on her tongue, blood in her throat. Feels it on her hands, soaked into her dress. She blinks and it’s gone as quickly as it appears.

(Mother doesn’t seem very happy)

She tries to keep her voice even. “Diana of Siodonna, Father. I’ve… I’ve heard that she was a beautiful dancer.” Even so, her words are spoken haltingly, chosen carefully. 

At that, she could see his eyes narrow in sudden hostility, something dark flashing across them. One of his hands moves to tightly grasp her chin, moving her face this way and that. The pressure hurt, felt as if it could fracture her delicate bones.

Yet his next words fracture her heart. 

“Diana? I’ve never even heard of that name.”

-

He wishes (demands, really) for her to refer to him as “Your Majesty”. With that, the distance between them widens ever more. Was “Father” not respectful enough for him? But she acquiesces to his request (again, more of a demand). Because he is her father. Because she loves him (and all he stood for).

She loves him like a daughter to her father and a worshipper to her idol.

But Athanasia finds that it’s becoming harder to reconcile reality with her idealised images.

And yet, she clings to thin threads of hope anyway.

-

Diana feels the rage of the others within her boil and bubble, caustic and cutting, as she notices Athanasia being brushed off again and again by Claude. Something screams deep within her, louder and louder as it becomes increasingly clear that he remembers her not. She learns to hate from others, learns to hate through circumstance and with the help of the negativity entwining with her. It’s an addicting feeling that’s all too happy to grow as she watches Claude take their daughter for granted again and again. 

Sometimes it feels as if their consciousness merges in and out. Although most of the other women hated her terribly in the end for being the favoured one of the emperor, they all could understand the feeling of being abandoned, being treated lesser by someone whom you adored. They could understand how love and like could curdle and sour into hate. 

Diana had gambled on their love, on her judgement of his character…

And it turns out that she’s fumbled the roll all along.

-

Sometimes, Athanasia thinks she hates them both—her father and Jennette.

Her father for how he underestimates her, practically pretends she doesn’t exist, the easy affection he gives so freely to Jennette even as Athanasia strove to reach his heaven-high standards. Could he not see her desire to help him? Could he not see how much work she put into her studies, no matter how she tried to convey it to him—whether it be through pathetically desperate verbal questioning about his interest, or her showing off as best as she could her ideas on how to perhaps help her Empire prosper more.

Jennette, for how easily she gains her (their) father’s affection. She fails miserably at certain subjects, stays happily within her own enclosed bubble without a care for the outside world, and yet. And yet, and yet, and yet—

(Athanasia can’t really blame her, not really. Because Jennette is kind. Because her father has more important duties than an attention-starved teenage daughter. Because the fault is probably all her own. Good with books, terrible with people, better with ghosts. What a mess .)

He couldn’t even bother to spare her a single glance. What did she lack? What did she not have? What did she need, who did she need to be so he’d gaze at her like Jennette?

Why couldn’t they be together as one happy family?

(Why couldn’t he be the father she wanted him to be?)

-

She caresses a thorny rose, admiring its beauty, lightly gliding her skin on the thorns. 

Not a second later, Athanasia pricks her skin on them.

It leaks blood, slowly, surely, before it clots.

She stares, watching. Wondering. Ruminating.

-

Ijekiel Alpheus. He is Jennette’s fiancé, and Athanasia listens for words that slip through the cracks. Jennette loves to talk about him. The girls at every tea party held in the palace love to gush about him, plying words of flattering praise on Jennette as thick as honey. It often feels over-excessive. 

Perhaps they envy her. 

(But who wouldn’t? With her perfect life and perfect personality, it is easy to love her and even easier to hate her.)

Ijekiel is Jennette’s childhood friend, their affection for one another having been fostered since day one. She wonders if he is the white-haired youth she saw on that day. He had worn his charm like a well-worn mask, gently guiding Jennette towards His Majesty. Beautiful and handsome, all soft edges and a princely demeanour.

He must be. House Alpheus is the only white-haired, gold-eyed noble family she knows of in Obelia.

-

Athanasia meets him on a summer day. A maid eagerly rushes to Jennette, telling her of her fiancé’s arrival. Her sister brightens with excitement and proceeds to drag Athanasia back to the palace to meet him. 

Her mother has opted to stay and relax with Raven back in the Ruby Palace. Lately, Mother feels tired through the threads that connect them. Athanasia briefly hopes the rest will do her well, before allowing herself to be pulled in the rush of emotions Jennette visibly emits before they enter the doors of the Emerald Palace. 

For some reason, Athanasia always thought the colour would suit Jennette well. Better green than blue.

(Better to be in any other family than—) 

When they arrive, Ijekiel has his back to them. He’s been waiting. Clothed in white and gold, Athanasia cannot help but wonder if it is an intentional choice of House Alpheus. She supposes it lends a more ethereal quality to Ijekiel, whilst also being easy to match with their hair and eyes. It certainly looks more intricate and fine than her pale blue dress. 

“Ijekiel!”

Jennette lets go of her hand to practically leap onto Ijekiel’s back, arms wrapping around him tightly as she beams. Athanasia opts to stand back, a couple of steps away, allowing space for the pair, waiting for him to turn to meet her.

The first thing she notices is that his eyes are like unpolished gold.

Yet as they finally lock eyes, jewel blue meeting dull gold, Jennette’s happy words “This is my fiance, Ijekiel…” fade into the background, and those eyes appear to sparkle as if wrapped in a Mesmer. He smiles gently and moves to place a kiss just above her hand. As he does so, his gaze feels like it’s attempting to see through her for what she is. It is a strange sparkle that has lit within his eyes.

“A pleasure to meet you, your highness.”

Something about him changes at that moment.

And it is all too strange that such a gaze would cause her to feel flushed below her clothes. Would cause her breath to hitch and a feeling of breathlessness to rush over her. Maybe she overworked herself this morning with the spells, growing flowers willy-nilly for both Lily and Mother. There’s nothing else that could explain this.

As always, Athanasia opts to ignore unwanted feelings.

(She cannot have him; a terrible choice for a first infatuation)

-

On a summer’s day, they meet again for the second time. This time, it was by complete accident. Whilst walking back to the Ruby Palace from one of the Imperial libraries, Athanasia finds herself nearly walking into Ijekiel. Thank goodness for Mother warning her just in time before they could collide.

Immediately, she reacts with a “My apologies, Lord Alpheus.” He bows in return. A beat of silence follows soon after, and as there is no reply, she continues with “Were you looking for Jennette? I believe she should be finished with her dance lessons soon…” Shifting her books to her left arm, Athanasia snaps open the pocket watch on her side. “...In about five to six minutes or so.”

“No worries, Your Highness. And, I’m not here for Jennette today. I simply felt like visiting one of the royal libraries.” Ijekiel replies, smiling. Then something appears to catch his eye, and following his gaze, Athanasia looks down to see her books. More specifically, a theorem that was published by Roitz a few years ago. Bound in dull brown and without much decoration, Athanasia wonders why it is this book that catches his attention specifically.

“Is that…?”

Athanasia is quick to reply with her own query. “Lord Alpheus, do you recognise this?”

“Yes, is that not Roitz’s book on the intricacies and differences between black magic and forbidden magic? I have read it before on a whim. However, there’s not much I can do with such information, seeing as I am not a mage. Although,” he looks back up into her eyes, “speaking of mages, I do not suppose it is much of a surprise that Your Highness reads such things.” 

Her own blue eyes stray away from his intense gaze. “If I may, Lord Alpheus… I don’t believe that is quite true, mage or not, it is always good to know more. Especially with matters concerning magic. Knowing the differences could perhaps help one determine how best to solve problems concerning magic, or even identify signs that may appear with black magic usage. Sometimes, knowing can make all the difference in things. Please, do not presume that something is useless to you because you have yet to think of a use for it.” And somehow, without realising, her gaze shifts as she speaks, staring down at the sparkling gold of his irises.

It takes a while for him to speak, and Athanasia thinks he looks almost pleasantly surprised, were it not for the rapid change into his normal, genial smile that leaves her wondering if she’s hallucinating from years spent with the supernatural. 

“...Yes, you’re right, of course.” Ijekiel’s head subtly shifts to look beyond the marble pillars of the hallway. “There are things I feel thankful for now, even if I grew to despise them in the past.” He’s looking back at her, and Athanasia feels as if Ijekiel isn’t exactly talking about books and knowledge. Unexpectedly, she feels herself flush, red hot on her cheeks. His gaze always feels all too intense whenever she’s caught in it.

At this, his smile seems to grow a little more genuine, before he leaves with a light bow and a, “If I may excuse myself, Your Highness.” 

The faint scent of wildflowers follows him.

Athanasia thinks, staring at the place where he was, that it’s not the end of their meetings, mostly due to their respective statuses as future in-laws. Although as she looks at her Mother’s amused gaze, Athanasia hopes that by the next meeting, she could at least stop feeling so strangely flustered every time she meets Ijekiel.

-

Her mother shows her little reprieve after that encounter. As it turns out, Athanasia appears to have found a new muse to draw. Sitting beneath the old tree with Raven and her mother once more, Athanasia allows her mind to wander in content silence. Thus she pays little attention to the wildflowers unfurling next to her, nor the fact that Ijekiel’s features are starting to form upon the paper. 

Unfortunately for her, Diana—her mother—is a rather keen-eyed woman. And thus, her sparkling pink eyes zero onto the familiar handsome sketched features with a speed rivalling the Arlantan hawks. As she does so, her lips softly curl into a teasing grin at her new discovery.

“My, my, Athy, who’s this?” Leaning in, Diana peers at her daughter with that very grin, as Athanasai practically leapt out of her skin. Raven, deciding he’d rather be an observer rather than a participant, takes this time to move over to a warm patch in the field.

“Ma‒a! You nearly gave me a heart attack! Couldn’t you have warned me somehow before you decided to comment on my artwork?” Athanasia exasperatedly said, slowly calming down her racing heart.

“Weell, my darling daughter,” Diana begins to say, pinching at one of Athanasia’s cheeks, “I’m simply ever so curious as to this mysterious handsome individual you’ve started to draw. Who, by the way, looks ever so similar to one heir to House Alpheus.” Her cheshire grin grows ever wider as Athanasia slowly realises the implication, relishing the deep lobster red suffusing her pale complexion. 

“That’s a coincidence,” she explains tartly, wishing the ground would swallow her up whole, were it not that the lack of air would kill her. “Besides, it’s not a crush or anything of the sort that you’re implying, Mama.” Athanasia spits out the word ‘crush’ as if it were something diseased.

“I never said it was a crush.”

“That—! Well, you most certainly implied that I have a crush on Ijekiel!”

“Did I? I only wished to know who you were drawing, Athy,” Diana replies, looking like the cat who got both the cream and the canary. “But now that you mention it… Do you have a crush on him, Athy?”

“I do not have a crush.” Athanasia pouts, crossing her arms, “And Mother, you should remember that this is Jennette’s fiancé we are discussing. Any feeling of the amorous kind should not, and will not, exist.” Her voice is hard at that reminder. However, who was truly being reminded here?

At that, Diana’s expression softens into a sympathetic look. 

“Oh Athy, it’s perfectly alright and normal for you to get a crush at this age.” Diana places a comforting hand on Athanasia’s hunched shoulders, coaxing her daughter to look at her. “I know you care very much about Jennette, but you’re not betraying her or anything like that by getting a crush on her fiancé. Besides, you’re not acting on those feelings, and that’s all that really matters, Athy.” Her fingers gently comb through her daughter’s golden tresses.

It’s a nice, normal thing for her daughter to get a crush. 

She thinks, sadly, that Claude would have been a rather endearingly protective father.

-

Athanasia thinks they run into each other quite a lot, enough that she can no longer truly call it a continuing series of accidental encounters. It’s one too many times with too short breaks in between for her to call it such. At some point, she’s starting to wonder if “accidental” is intentional. But with both her desire to ignore most thoughts about fair-haired, handsome Ijekiel and to prove to her mother that this was most certainly not some crush on her sister’s betrothed, Athanasia kicks such thoughts into the abyss of her subconscious.

So obviously, the next time she carries a thick romance novel out of the library to read in the comfort of her room, Athanasia has to be nearly bowled over by Ijekiel as she rounds the corner back to the Ruby Palace.

She stumbles back in shock the moment they collide, thankfully managing not to trip over her feet. Ijekiel appears to be completely unphased, the only sign of collision being his slightly shifted clothing. Athanasia envies that calmness—just a bit.

Just seconds after their collision, Ijekiel smiles, moving to lightly bow towards her, his right hand clasped over his breast. 

“Your Highness, what a happy coincidence.” As he straightens up, Ijekiel’s eyes roam over the book Athanasia is perhaps not-so-subtly trying to obscure. “May I presume you were coming back from the library?”

“Y— Yes, Lord Alpheus. I was. And may I presume in return that you were on the way to meet Jennette? May I recommend that the next time you come visit her, you start from the left, instead of the right? It takes a longer time to get to the Emerald Palace if you go this way, Lord Alpheus.” Her fingers curl tighter around her novel, desperate to not let Ijekiel see the embossed blurb, lest he guesses the contents of it. (He need not know just how passionately the main couple express their feelings for each other, and he most definitely need not know in what specific manner they normally do so) 

Suddenly, it feels as if they are far too close for comfort.

(She can’t quite understand why she’s unwilling to let him know about this, wanting to keep the image of a refined, scholarly princess in his eyes)

He takes a step closer, and for a scant second, Athanasia’s breath catches in her throat. It’s still a perfectly acceptable distance, she mentally reassures herself. It’d do her no good to have her mind so scrambled by such a little thing as the decreased distance from her future in-law.

(Her very handsome, future brother-in-law, her mind supplies in a rather unhelpful fashion. Athanasia wonders if there was a spell to get your mind to shut up when it made unnecessary comments about other people.)

Smiling, Ijekiel makes the world stand still with just a few words. 

“Actually, Your Highness, I was looking for you.” 

“What?” It’s only by the grace of all those years spent holding back that allows Athanasia at least a semi-dignified response to his reply. She blinks and very nearly stutters on her next words. “You… You were looking for me?”

Suddenly he’s far, far too close, and Athanasia nearly leaps out of her skin with surprise, blooming red on her cheeks. Her arms loosen their death grip on her novel, allowing Ijekiel a clear view of her guilty pleasure. So unfortunately for Athanasia, within those few seconds of embarrassment for her, Ijekiel quickly sees what she’s not so subtly attempting to hide from him.

“Oh? That…” He smiles gently like always. But this time, there is a musical lilt to his tone, a subtle quirk to his lips. 

Much like a cat who caught the canary.

Athanasia does her very best to ignore both that damnable smile and the airy weight of her mother’s arms settling comfortably around her.

“Is there something you’d like to say, Lord Alpheus?” She knows her tone is just a tinge too sharp, too snappy in its execution.  Athanasia stoutly refuses to believe such reactions could be, in any way, related to her feelings towards the Alpheus heir. Just like how, right now, she is stoutly ignoring her dearly beloved mother’s giggles. 

Underlying those words is a challenge to him; daring him to say even a single unneeded and unwanted comment about her choice of literature. Her eyes narrow slightly as she stares up at him. Curse his older age and thus his taller height. It is much, much harder to channel an ice statue when one is forced to a lower vantage point.

“Oh, nothing, really.” Or so Ijekiel says, even when the corners of his mouth curve none too subtly, right in front of her. “It’s just…”

And really, some form of luck must be on his side today. Because at that very moment, a gust of wind has the audacity to simply blow past right behind her, allowing Ijekiel the perfect opportunity to further invade her space. Which he does, leaning in to gently tuck away locks of hair from her ear, giving unrestricted access for him to whisper, ever so softly…

“You enjoy such a charming spread of genres, Your Highness,” his breath tickles her ear, and Athanasia hopes to all the holy powers that be that Ijekiel won’t see the brick red she’s surely become. “I myself am also rather fond of reading. So perhaps you’d be able to give me a good recommendation that we might both enjoy together?” At that, Ijekiel leans back, and his golden gaze fixed on her face, waiting for her reply.

“I—” Athanasia’s first attempt at a response falls flat, leading to seconds of hanging silence before her mind formulates a proper answer. “I would be willing to compile a list for you.” Athanasia pauses, before hastily adding, “ And Jenette.” 

“Right.” Gone is the light tone previously in Ijekiel’s voice. Jenette’s name is a clear reminder to both of them.

Again, a silence casts its shadow over the two. But there was a reason why Ijekiel was so beloved by the upper crust’s women. A reason why Jenette was so clearly smitten with him.

“Perhaps we could read the book you have now together, Your Highness? Just to help you gain an early start in compiling that list, of course.”

Athanasia hopes to high heaven that this wasn’t the reason why he was so liked.

“Absolutely not!” Athanasia’s face is red with embarrassment, heat practically radiating off her cheeks. There was no way she was going to let Ijekiel Alpheus of all people know that the studious Second Princess of Obelia liked steamy romance novels. (Even if it was highly likely he already knew what exactly she was holding in her arms)

It’s clear that her sudden outburst of honesty surprises and amuses the Alpheus heir. Frankly, he isn’t doing much to conceal the mischievous twinkle in his eyes, nor the tug at his lips. At that, Athanasia’s lips twitch in displeasure. Why on earth she’d been so fascinated with him lately must’ve been due to the amount of work she’d been giving herself recently. (That was not to say she didn’t notice how that twinkle made the gold in his eyes shine like stars, enthralling in the way beauty always was)

“My, Your Highness, I’m surprised that someone with your work ethic would be so quick to turn down an offer to increase task efficiency.” He teases her, knowing full well why there was no way she would read this book with him.

Athanasia returns his tease with frosty politeness, hoping he’ll drop the matter and leave her alone to read in the sanctity of her room in peace. “I’m simply worried it would detract from time you should spend with Jennette, Lord Alpheus. Moreover, as both a girl and her sister, I’m quite sure a perfect list will still be made with only my input.”

(Her mother is no help at all, only watching and offering not a single piece of advice)

“Ah, but perhaps you have forgotten, Your Highness, that I have taken care of Jennette in the past. Would it not be more helpful to have my input to supplement yours?”

“That…”

“...Is it because of my presence?”

“No.” The blurted answer is quick enough that it shocks both of them. It’s honesty towards a question that should never be asked. Despite this, Athanasia continues to blush, eyes only pretending to look straight at Ijekiel. “...I simply think that you would not be interested in such reading material.” She later tacks on lamely.

But for some reason, it’s enough to gain a wondrous smile from him—In fact, Athanasia suspects he might just be beaming. Her heart beats uncomfortably in her chest.

“I see,” is all he says at first. “But Your Highness, I trust that whatever you read has its own value, whether it be for one purpose or another.” With that, he bows, ready to take his leave. “If you are not ready to show me such literature, I’ll at least help with the list for Jenette. So if I may, Your Highness, I’ll get on to that promptly.” Up he rises, and Athanasia can’t help but stare at his now retreating back.

What an immensely forward thing to say.

All of a sudden, not even ten paces away from her, Ijekiel stills. As he speaks, he does not face her. “And, just one more matter, Your Highness. If it’s not too presumptuous… Might I say that red is a lovely colour on you?”

But for Athanasia, it’s much more preferred this way. After all, who knows what expression he had whilst saying so? Nor did she desire for him to see that lovely colour on her again.

-

“Your Highness, I’ve recently read through Galera’s thesis on the nature of time. May we discuss it together?”

Ijekiel had almost certainly planned on this, seeing as there was no one near them for perhaps miles around, and also for the fact that they were conversing in a clearly abandoned garden that no one in their right mind would enter. 

It’s no matter if she’s caught off guard, as Athanasia has long since gotten used to reacting to unexpected variables on the spot. “Lord Alpheus, you must understand that I have yet to read that particular article. Furthermore, I do firmly believe that you would have a much more enlightening conversation with someone from the Black Tower.”

However, the sound of her mother snickering from behind is very much not helpful.

“But Your Highness, I find that I would much prefer conversing with you. You’ve shown to be capable of viewing a wide range of perspectives that I feel are quite uncommon.” At that, Athanasia involuntarily flushes, remembering their previous meeting. “It’s no matter if you haven’t read it yet, as I’ve also brought it with me. How about we go over it together?”

“I…” There is an expectant, honest wish in his eyes, and Athanasia can’t help but look away.

Her mother gently caresses her from behind, giving a silent nudge to accept his offer. “You’ll be family soon,” she whispers in her ear. “It’ll be good to get along when it happens… And above all else, Athy… It’s alright to savour moments of fleeting happiness.”

Fleeting. Right.

This time, she meets his eyes. 

“I don’t suppose you have anything for the next few hours?”

And his smile is as dazzling as the sun.

-

Jerk, was, perhaps, not a word Athanasia thought she’d ever use to refer to Ijekiel. But sometimes it feels as if he’s purposefully trying to ruffle her feathers.  There is simply something about the way this— this young lord reacts to her polished politeness, the way he engages with her, the way he pokes and prods (in a manner he possibly believes is subtle but is truly more like a slap to her face).

(For goodness sake, she’s not some beloved romance novel protagonist) 

It is hard to do so when the Alpheus heir keeps on challenging her like so.

(And they dance around and around, three steps forward and two steps back)

-

By their fourth and later meetings, Athanasia finds that many conversations with Ijekiel often slip into a subtle battle of knowledge, wisdom and wit between them. They talk around each other in circles, debating and discussing. They prod each other for opinions as politely and bluntly as can be (it was likely Ijekiel took at least some pleasure in watching her flounder—he’d already admitted it before). Sometimes though, it feels as if they’re speaking two entirely different conversations to each other. The only clue Athanasia has as to what Ijekiel does not say is exactly that: what he does not tell her explicitly.

More often than not, Jennette cannot get much of a foot within the proverbial door of their rapid-fire conversations. More often than not, Athanasia has to remember to pull back, to introduce topics that Jennette can give her opinion on. And she feels guilty, looking at how nervous Jennette is at giving opinions on things she can barely understand. Because Jennette’s fiancé is the only person remotely near her age that she could interact with on such a level, the only person around willing and able to interact with on such an academic level, Athanasia clings to him—to that connection to another being who might truly enjoy her company—through such conversations. She wills herself to ignore their countless other conversations that don’t involve an exchange of knowledge; pushes away the way he teaches her to dance in a pair; shuts out the times they sit together in comfortable silence, Raven as their feet and her mother humming by her side.

(Because for all she reads, all she understands and absorbs, her father hates the sound of her voice, hates the audible reminders of her existence. What Athanasia learns from those numerous, painfully awkward tea times is that Jennette is persistent in making them get along, and their father is persistent in pretending she does not exist—knowledge does not matter if no one wishes to appreciate it. The unread and discarded proposals Athanasia sends to him via a third party time and time again only serve to hammer in this unwanted truth.

And Ijekiel wanted more than her knowledge. Was it truly a wonder that she’d wish to stay with just him, if only for a few seconds more?)

She should not.

(Ijekiel is her sister’s beloved fiancé. Jennette is her beloved older sister, and she is the apple of their father’s eye.)

She does anyway.

As another prompting question about Archimedes V comes from Ijekiel yet again, Athanasia cannot help herself, allowing her to be swept away by the currents to another place—perhaps the edge of a waterfall.

(She’s not acting on her feelings if she’s answering his questions and thus engaging with, and subsequently bonding with her future brother-in-law… Right?

It’s not a question Athanasia truly wishes to answer.)

-

The next few years go by like the clouds drifting across the skies, and she and Ijekiel only become closer. Her mother gives no protest to any of it, even telling her that it is  “only a small bit of happiness, which wouldn’t hurt”. Within her embrace, cocooned in her warmth, Athanasia can find no argument against such a sentiment.

One day—a day she will consider a very long time ago—under the gentle shade of a tree, surrounded by nothing but wildflowers, Ijekiel confesses a secret to her and her alone.  

“Did you know, Princess, that when we truly first met, I thought you to be an angel?” Ijekiel smiles, looking up at the unclouded sky, away from her and her seeking eyes. “You should know that you’re very beautiful, Princess. It was almost inhumanely so, to me… Until I got to know you better, of course.” He chuckles, as if remembering a particularly humorous memory. “You became less like an angel—less of an idea in my head—and more like my friend, Athanasia. And yet, knowing you as you are now, I find myself preferring this tangible version of you, rather than the shallow idea I had before.” 

It feels as if it’s something she shouldn’t have known. Something that shouldn’t be said. And yet, she made no move to interrupt him at all.  

Ijekiel looks back at her now. As the sun’s rays bounce off his white hair, Athanasia privately thinks that, between the both of them, she is not the one with the angelic beauty. She watches, entranced, as his hand nears her own. 

His first touch is warm.

Slowly, he brings her hand to his lips, his golden eyes gazing at her behind lowered lashes as he does so. And just as Athanasia thinks he will kiss the air above her hand in greeting (but what for, she dares not continue that line of thought), he gently turns her hand to expose the insides of her pale wrists. 

“Athanasia… I’m truly glad you were born.”

And so there is where his lips ever so lightly press, a butterfly-like kiss. 

It’s a golden memory that Athanasia would take to her grave. Even if she immediately yanks her hand away, watching as the sun’s rays disappear. Watching the understanding dawn upon his face.

(Ah, she’s already flown too close to the sun)

-

Not too long after that incident, Ijekiel gifts her a blue songbird—a bluebird, to be more specific.

“Consider it a symbol of our friendship,” he says. Nothing about his expressions betrays anything, save for the way he doesn’t meet her eyes, the way his smile is so picturesque. But their roles have been set, their paths already paved, and there’s no other direction but forward. 

So Athanasia gives a fairytale-like smile in return, and focuses only on the merits of his gift.  

It’s a pretty bluebird, and she’s sure Raven will love it too. Her mother is already cooing in her ear about how cute it is, and how generous it is for Ijekiel to give such a gift. Athanasia never told her what happened on that sunny day. And she never will.

“He must treasure your friendship very much, Athy. And, oh my, don’t you think the bluebird looks a little like him? Maybe it’ll stop you from sulking every time you can’t immediately discuss a book with him.”

Athanasia ignores her comments in favour of concentrating on Ijekiel.

“Thank you,” she says in turn, smiling, “I’ll take good care of…”

“It’s a boy.”

“Him. I’ll take good care of him.”

They both watch the little bluebird hop around, gazing at its new surroundings with curiosity. 

“Do you already have a name for him?”

“Not really, I was thinking that it’d be better to give you the honour of doing so,” Ijekiel replies, before cheekily adding, “Even with your dubious naming skills.”

Athanasia’s cheeks colour, before she hastily gets out, “My naming skills are not dubious. The names I give are perfectly suited and reasonable.”

“Hahaha, alright alright, I concede—what are you going to name him then?”

“Well,” and at that, Athanasia places her hands firmly on her hips, “I was thinking of Bluey. It’s a name that suits his colouration, and it’s also a very cute name.” 

“Alright, Bluey it is then.”

“Hey, what kind of answer was that?” But they’re both grinning, and they both know that Ijekiel won’t legitimately protest against the name, no matter how much of an “opinion” he has about her naming skills. 

Athanasia hopes that he’ll treasure this memory as much as she does, forevermore.

-

On a day like any other, Athanasia opens the doors to her room to find her beloved Bluey dead in his cage. His feathers lie scattered in a bloody mess, and it’s clear that this was someone’s handiwork. Even so, it doesn’t feel real. Any moment now, Bluey will hop around and chirp and sing, delighted to see her again.

Athanasia cradles him with shaking hands, making no move to stop Raven from sniffing around the crime scene. There's a gasp from behind. Mother? 

“Oh, Athy…” When a warm, heavy weight meets her shoulder, Athanasia knows that it's someone else.

Lily.

“How could anyone do this?” She laments, voicing out unsaid thoughts. “This isn't right. I must go see the Emperor. He should do something about this.” At that, Lily rises to storm out the door, only to be caught by the skirts with a single hand.

“No.” Athanasia’s tone is firm, resolute. “He won't— He doesn't need to be bothered by such small issues.” The words are like razors in her mouth. “I’ll solve this issue myself.”

“But Athy—”

“No.” A princess’ words are final. “But,” and here is where her voice softens, weakens, “could you stay by my side tonight?”

“Of course.” Lily’s hands are gentle on her hair, but still, Athanasia can't bring herself to look at her. “You didn't even need to ask. I’ve promised you before that I’ll always be by your side, Athy.”

-

At night, soothed to sleep by her nanny’s lullaby, and her mother's smell of roses, Athanasia dreams. She dreams of the flowers she’d made, dreams of how vegetation would translate to flesh, blood and bone. She dreams of sinew, muscle and thread. She dreams of a pulsating heart in her hands, too big to be useful for now, but that is what magic is for—to make the impossible become possible.

She dreams of her mother, unconditionally forgiving.

( Everything will be alright, Athy. You don't have to do it alone. Just leave it to Mama, ok? )

She dreams of a world, where all wrongs are made right.

-

When she wakes, it’s as if she’s been possessed. With a firm stride, she moves to crack open the book that started it all. With a loud thump, it lies open on a new number, page one-thousand-twenty. It’s a page Athanasia has never seen before. But written across its pages is exactly the guidance she needs. Her fingers run through the crimson-streaked pages, feeling the bone-like indents of the letters. Perhaps it’s simply her imagination, but Athanasia likes to think that, at that moment, she’d also felt a pulse. 

The smell of decay hangs in the air. Against Lily’s protests, she’d placed Bluey back into his cage instead of disturbing him any further. 

If she could conjure new life, then surely, Athanasia could also bring back the old? Her eyes scan the procedures, the needed ingredients to channel intent out of precaution. A nail drags across the paper, and she mentally takes note of every single detail. 

“Did you find something interesting, Athy?” Her mother’s arms curl around her neck, heavy as a noose. 

“Yes.” She replies, turning to gaze at her slumbering bluebird. “I think I’ll need some thread, Mama.”

-

Perhaps it’s a trick of her mind, but Athanasia feels as if there are fewer staff members in the Ruby Palace, as barebones are the structure of the staff here already. But since she relies mostly on herself and Lily, Athanasia doesn’t pay too much mind to it. 

There are other more important matters to turn to, such as Bluey’s recovery. He still needs the stitches, or else he’d fall back asleep within a blink of an eye. 

She strokes his soft feathery head, before the crash of breaking plates forces her attention elsewhere. Her hand stills. A lone maid stares at them, eyes wide, mouth slack. Honestly, it’s a confusing reaction to have. Furthermore, didn’t she know that such loud noises could disturb Bluey’s recovery? 

“Hey,” the informality tastes foreign, but welcome. “Come here.”

The impertinent maid doesn’t move.

“Come here. That’s an order.”

Hesitant, and awkward. Her etiquette lessons come to mind—a princess should not have to speak the same order twice. The chair screeches from the force of her pushing back, and in one, two, three and four strides, she’s caught that shaking arm and dragged the maid into her room.

The doors shut and lock with a finality. 

[moondance-r]

The Jewel-eyed Lost Prince 1

Summary: Aionios is a prince of the Obelian Empire raised outside its borders. His eyes gave him a chance at his birthright - now it depended on his skills to take it.

His jeweled eyes made it obvious to anyone with basic knowledge of Obelia and a working brain where the other half of his blood came from, so Aionios was doubly determined to learn how to manage a household. One day, his household would be more than the handful of families left in his care by his mother. One day, his household would number millions.

[Masterlist] [Next]

Athanasia peeked around the pillar in front of her, taking in the crowded throne room. Rumours had flown thick and fast for the past month, even making its way into the Ruby Palace, about Claude having another child. The Lovely Princess had never mentioned anything about a prince, of course she had to check it out! Even if it meant sneaking away from Lily.

She froze at the sound of rapid footsteps and muffled puffing behind her. Busted!

“Princess!” Lily hissed as she picked up Athanasia, “Don’t run off like that!”

Before she could continue scolding, though, the doors to the throne room swung open. Maybe it was her imagination, but Athanasia thought they moved very slowly. An announcer stepped forwards and struck his staff against the marble floor twice, catching everyone’s attention.

“Presenting His Imperial Highness,” he cried, “First Star of Obelia, Aionios de Alger Obelia!”

The young man who entered was beautiful. From her seat in Lily’s arms, Athanasia could make out sun-tanned skin topped by long golden hair so pale it was almost platinum, accentuated by brightly coloured flowing robes. More than that, he walked as if he owned the place.

When he reached the foot of the steps leading to Claude’s throne, he and his entourage lowered themselves to kneel on one knee and bowed. “Aionios de Alger Obelia greets Your Majesty. May there be prosperity upon the Obelian Empire.”

“Rise.”

He stood. A wave of gasps and whispers immediately rippled through the room, Athanasia being no different. Seeing those jeweled blue eyes set in an unfamiliar face was very different from hearing stories of a possible prince. With those eyes, there was no question that he was from the imperial lineage. 

“Aionios...” Claude considered his name, as if savouring it. “Yasmin had some nerve, naming you that.”

“Not as much as others,” Aionios replied, with a glance to the side. Athanasia froze. Did he make eye contact with me? “Mother simply wanted to remind me of my origins.”

For a long moment, no one dared to breathe. Athanasia could hear her heart thumping in her chest as tension thickened the air into syrup. What did he mean? What did this entire conversation mean? And... what would happen now?

Finally, Claude stood. “We’ll continue this in the audience room. Court is dismissed.”

Athanasia buried her head into Lily’s neck even as she turned and walked away. Stealing a last glance at Aionios, she saw that his shoulders were slumped and one of his companions laid a comforting hand on his shoulder. The two exchanged tiny smiles. Her mind whirled. No character named ‘Aionios’ was ever mentioned in The Lovely Princess.

The existence of a prince older than both Athanasia and Jennette would change everything.

[Masterlist] [Next]

This is also posted to Wattpad, I've since stopped using the site.

[pang3l]

The Secret Gem Of Obelia by @ladyriia is just to good for me not to make anything. So here's my random deep dive on what the flowers on Ep3 is/means :

Isn't Ei such a cutie

—————

• Peonies

More than simply looking fabulous and standing the test of time, though, the peony is also full of meaning. Generally symbolic of love, honor, happiness wealth, romance, and beauty, the peony is traditionally given on special occasions as an expression of goodwill, best wishes, and joy.

- This is more spesifically a light pink peony flower

Pale and subtle, blush tones are typically associated with romance, luck, and prosperity. But you don’t need to reserve light pink peonies for a love interest. They aren’t dark or dramatic, but they evoke a sense of ethereal, understated beauty that’s perfect for an occasion with a rustic, ethereal, or outdoorsy theme.

—————

• Veronica longifolia, known as garden speedwell or longleaf speedwell

In the language of flowers, the beautiful flowering Speedwell carries the symbolic meaning of healing, recovery, and joyfulness. It's a popular addition to many symbolic gardens, especially for those with a Christian faith theme. Its meaning as a healing herb dates back even further to Ancient Rome.

Veronica grows quickly and does not require special care, making it a popular flower in landscape design. The meaning and symbolism of Veronica flower is loyalty. In a single-flower bouquet, it represents your devotion to the person or even fidelity in marriage.

—————

[myearts-uwu]

Heart eyes

Anastacius, thinking: Hm, I wonder if Miss Myra likes me back.

Myra who’s been sitting beside him this whole time: *Staring at him admiringly with heart eyes*

[lithi]

Wmmap modern Kindergarten AU where Claude de Alger Obelia estimates that no kindergarten in the world is good enough for his baby daughter, Athanasia, and thus decided to create his own kindergarten LMAO

Athy, Lucas, Jennette, Ijekiel, Cabel, Aety and Athy’s friends all go to the kindergarten

Lily, Felix, Hannah and Seth are all teachers!! (Caretakers??)

Cabel, looking at Athy: Fairy!!!!

Ijekiel: No, Cabel. She is an angel *pout*

Jennette: N-no...! Athy is a princess...! *teary eyed*

Lucas, who just woke up from his nap, still sleepy: No... She is an idiot >:(

Aeternitas: LUCAS SAID A BAD WOOORD :0

Athy: :/

[amusedyan]

Hide and Seek

Y’all need to thank @lightautumnsky​ for talking me into posting this

Anastasius had retreated to the privacy of the royal gardens to nurse his wounded pride and stinging palms. His ears still burned with embarrassment of his failure, and the scolding from his arcana tutor.

It wasn’t fair

He tried.

He worked so hard, and still, it wasn’t enough.

“Your Royal Father will be so disappointed,” his tutor had tutted, after the caning. Had Anastasius been younger, he might have begged for a second punishment, rather than his father being informed. It wouldn’t be pleasant, when he found out.

The wisteria trees were in full bloom, and the garden a riot of color and scent. He was sure that the gardeners were following some sort of plan set forth by the Empress, a theme, but he couldn’t be bothered to care. The foliage made for good cover, though, and that was enough for him.

Of course, the guards might be around, but he didn’t care. They were supposed to protect him, but they weren’t much more than shadows, might as well be. They wouldn’t talk to him, or play with him, or help him study or practice his magic.

The sound of giggling and chatter from the Ruby Palace was on the wind, and a spike of hate burned in him. In the Ruby Palace were the Emperor’s whores and his jewel eyed bastard daughters, assuming he didn’t have them drowned at birth.

Pigs, all of them. He thought, gripping his knees.

His nanny would panic at the state of his trousers- grass stains and dirt from where he’d scuttled under the hedge into his secret hiding place. Well, secret was the operative term. Anastasius was sure that they knew, they just let him have the illusion of a secret.

Outside his hedge hiding place, he heard the light tramp of footsteps. It must be Nanny, come to drag him before Father.

Funny, though. The footsteps sounded lighter.

“Is anyone there?” A strange voice called, and Anastasius perked up with curiosity. Someone new wasn’t a rare thing- the palace went through servants rather quickly. But a new person in the royal gardens?

Carefully he wriggled his way out and folded his arms, pasting on the familiar scowl of his father.

“Peasants don’t belong in the garden.” He said imperiously. She jumped, and whirled around, but Anastasius held his ground as he glared up at her. “Now give me one reason not to summon the guards to come and cut your head off.”

She blinked at him and looked him up and down. Anastasius knew he didn’t look like much even when he wasn’t dirty and some random peasant hadn’t found him in a bush, but he was still the crown prince and only Heir to the Empire. Whoever she was, she looked funny- hardly dressed and not wearing makeup- her hair was mussed, probably from scuttling around like a rat.

“I got lost. And who might you be?” She asked curiously, cocking her head.

Anastasius drew himself up.

“I am Prince Anastasius de Alger Obelia of the Obelian Empire, Crown Prince and Heir to the Throne.” He’d practiced saying it in the mirror for days, but instead of making her fall to her knees in apology and recognition she nodded.

“I see. A pleasure to meet you, Prince Anastasius de Alger Obelia of the Obelian Empire, Crown Prince and Heir to the Throne,” he snarled at the mocking bow she gave, before she finally offered her name. It was underwhelming, just like her.

“Now how did you get in here?” He demanded again. He was getting quite tired of her.

She smiled and examined the wisteria. “I appeared.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Oh no, it does.” She began to walk, giving Anastasius no choice but to follow her. “This is quite normal for me. Something magical pulled me away from home, and I appeared here, there and everywhere.” She smiled like it was a joke.

“But why?”

“Well,” she folded her hands behind her. “It was explained to me that I don’t have mana, so your world keeps rejecting my place in it. But I’m stuck here, so I just…wind up elsewhere.”

But how could you not have mana and live? Where was home? Where had she been?

Anastasius asked all those questions and more, but the woman only shrugged again and again or said “I don’t know.” It was very frustrating, but it lit a fire of curiosity in him.

“What were you doing out here, Anastasius?” She asked, and although royalty didn’t owe anyone anything, Anastasius found himself pressed to answer her.

“I came to be alone.”

“Oh,” a flash of guilt in her eyes. “Would you like me to leave?”

“No.” He admitted. She wasn’t a shadow like the others.

“Hm.” She smiled. “Want to play a game?”

And that was how Anastasius found himself playing hide and seek with a delusional peasant woman. It was…nice.

It was nice, to play with her, to have her treat him like anyone else.

But then…then she was gone.

Anastasius had seen her round a corner, peeking through his finders, but she wasn’t there.

He had the guards search for her.

And yet…

“Your world rejects me, and so I end up elsewhere”

When he was emperor, he would make the world bow to his whims.

[michellemagic]

WMMAP Prompts: Volleyball

Once again, written for @athy-n-lucas and their weekly prompt event! Big thanks to @nights-of-fire who inspired the ending :)

SUMMARY: Lucas is grumpy and doesn’t know how to talk to people, Jennette has a giant crush and freaks out. This leads to getting hit by volleyballs for some reason.

WARNING: SLIGHT LANGUAGE AND I HAVE NO ACTUALLY KNOWLEDGE ABOUT THE OLYMPICS SO PLEASE KEEP THAT IN MIND (Also the ships are definitely Athy x Kiel and Lucas x Jenny, you've been warned)

It started, of course, due to Lucas’ own sour personality. 

After finishing his marathon practice- and thoroughly crushing the other swimmers- he had walked by olympic runner, Jennette Margaritta on his way back to the Olympic Village. She was a kind girl, known for being as graceful in her running as she was fast. He noted dully that she seemed to be coming back from a training set herself as he walked by her. She then waved and smiled sweetly at some unknown who was standing somewhere in his general direction and the three time gold medal swimming champion already in an awful mood walked straight past her without a second thought. 

This would turn out to be a major mistake. 

Athanasia de Alger Obelia, Obelian volleyball champion, Jennette’s cousin and Lucas’ best friend texted him later that night. She sent him the link to an article boldly titled “The Drama Brewing Between Olympic Athletes Lucas and Jennette!” which had a picture of him walked by Jennette with a sour look on his face and talked about how he had deliberately ignored his fellow athlete, she also sent several question marks and an inquiry about why he hated her cousin. 

He texted back dryly that he didn’t even know her cousin and that this was all a misunderstanding before throwing he phone hazardously to his bedside table, missing Athanasia’s string of laughing emojis. Cursing the media and their rather amazing ability to ignore any sense, he elected to ignore the entire situation until it eventually just died down. 

But of course his luck sucked and one gutsy journalist decided to ask Athanasia for her opinion on the rumors surrounding her cousin and friend. The blue eyed girl, born and raised by a literal king, gave a vague answer that went along the lines of it was really none of the media’s business what was happening between Jenny and Lucas, the two didn’t know each other for that matter. 

In every article published the next day, the press quickly twisted them not knowing each other to them calling bad blood between each other. The world now believes that Lucas hated Jennette. 

Lucas dejectedly resigned himself to the idea that life was against him.

__

Jennette had a crush.  Actually, it was worse than that, Jennette had a CrushTM.

She’s always been surrounded by attractive people, even from a young age. Her cousin was probably the prettiest person on the face of the planet and Ezekiel, fellow runner and her best friend, has eyes that could melt the heart of anyone who saw him. She was honestly under the impression that the two of them together would create the most powerful power couple known to man. She knew what pretty people looked like, and she honestly liked looking at them. So it was honestly only a matter of time before she became smitten with the aloof swimmer that was dominating his scene. 

She first saw him years before, warming up for his first meet of the season. He had a towel slung over his shoulders and was still dripping with water. She’s not ashamed to admit that her first thought when she saw him was Lord he’s hot 

Yes, technically it didn’t fit her typically stereotypical personality, but she knew beauty when she saw it.  

She doesn’t know how long she stood there staring at Lucas (she knew it was longer than what was considered socially acceptable) but when she snapped out of it she immediately went looking for her best friend. 

“Kiel! Kiel!” 

 Ezekiel Alpheus, Jeanettes best friend and fellow runner, was smart.  More than just book smart, he was people smart. Coming from a rich family meant he needed to know who everyone was, which was perfect for Jeanette at the moment. 

After some search, Jennette was able to find her best friend doing some light jogging at a nearby park.

“Kiel!” Jennette called once more, causing him to turn to her. Taking out his earbuds, he inquired, “Jenny?”

Jennette went straight to the point, “ Do you know this guy with black hair and red eyes? He is one of the swimming athletes, or maybe water polo- I’m not really sure.”

Used to Jeanette’s loud personality Ezekiel was quick to answer, ” Black hair and red eyes?”

Jennette nodded in response. Ezekiel looked thoughtful,” You’re probably talking about Lucas.”

“So you know him?” Ezekiel hummed his agreement. 

“Well yeah,” he paused to pull out his phone, swiping through the small divide before turning it to her. “He has a pretty decent social media following and we swim together sometimes.”

Jennette zero’d in on the picture Ezekiel was showing her. Good lord that man was beautiful, “This picture, I want it.”

Her friend blanched, “I’m sorry, what.”

“I want it.”

“What do you want for it,” Ezekiel watched baffled as a fire lit in Jennette. There was no stopping her now, he’s known her long enough to know that. Well, if she was going to push anyways….

“I mean…”

….

After leaving Ezekiel, Jennette was able to find Athanasia quickly. It honestly wasn’t hard, her cousin was almost always at one of the gyms close to the olympic village practicing her sets or serves. There was a small crowd watching her, mostly die hard fans but there were a few journalists as well. Perfect for her. 

“Athy!” 

Athanasia turned, breathing heavily but happily surprised at the appearance of her cousin. “Jenny! Hi, what are you doing here.”

“I needed to make a confession to you, and I couldn’t wait.”

Her cousin blinked,” Uh- Ok? What’s up?”

“Ezekiel is not just my very attentive best friend. He’s the best male runner in the competition," Jennette spoke to her cousin, her words loud and clear for the paparazzi that she knew was following them. “His abilities are truly unmatchable and you two would made beautiful babies together.”

Athanasia dropped her volleyball.

Later that night Ezekiel texted her. Going into a long rant about how he wanted her to tell Athanasia that he was interested in her and maybe brag about his skills a little bit not tell her that he wanted to have her kids. Oh well, his fault for not being more clear. 

Athanasia has also texted her, her cousin’s message much shorter than Ezekiel’s. Jenny, I don’t know what you sold your soul for, but I hope it was worth it, she followed the message using no less then five nauseous emojis. It was better than her reaction that afternoon considering she turned bright red, threw her volleyball (at Jennette! Her cousin! The nerve!), and ran away.

Blushing lightly at the picture of a smirking, bathing suit wearing Lucas, Jennette decided that, yes, it was worth it. 

__

Lucas blamed Athanasia for all of this. He knew, realistically, that it wasn’t her fault the media sucked, but he was told he couldn’t call bs on the media so ignoring his best friend was the next best option.

That didn’t deter Athanasia at all, she lovingly told him to stop sulking (he wasn’t sulking!) and sent him the link to one of her cousin’s more popular fan cites claiming that if he wanted to fix the situation the best place to start was learning more about Jennette … and he spent more time on the page than he cared to admit. 

The homepage was actually really well designed if too cutesy and bright for his taste. Lucas quickly learned that Jennette lived with Athanasia’s family most of her life (due to her parents walking out on her), her average running and qual times, her (rather decorated) track record, and that she was apparently the most adorable thing know to man - the last item didn’t actually come from an interview or study but several highly detailed fan posts that had numorous pictures and clips of Jennette doing things deemed “adorable”, all the posts ended with a comment along the lines of “BABY!” “WE MUST PROTECT THE CHILD” “PROTECT MY BABY AT ALL COSTS!!!!!” Lucas quickly realized that this was an expression of affection, not the girl’s mother under several different pseudonyms. Apparently, Jennette attracted the cute and adorable in this brutal world.

Well, Lucas wasn’t cute or adorable, but he was definitely attracted. 

__

Jennette was having a crisis. 

She made a major mistake and now the boy she had a crush on hated her. She was just trying to be nice to a fan! That was it! She didn’t know the press would catch the exact moment her eyes zero’d in on Lucas’ instead, or that they would take picture, she didn’t look that long! Afterwards, her cousin told her that of course they noticed Jenny, you’re so obvious when you stare. Cute, but obvious. (She was not!) Of course Athanasia also said it was all a big misunderstanding and that Lucas didn’t actually hate her, but Athanasia always ended to baby things down for her. Protecting her unconsciously like when they were little kids and Jennette would cry over anything and everything. 

But… her cousin wouldn’t lie to her.  Yeah, she seemed in a rush, something about practicing some sets with Ezekiel. They’ve been dating for several months now- and for the record, she did that thank you very much- and Athanasia’s head always went buzzy when she was thinking about Ezekiel. So maybe her cousin just wasn’t thinking when she told Jennette that the boy she had a massive crush on didn’t walk straight past her without a second thought and then proceed to hate Jennette for the rest of her miserable life to the point where the shame would make her have to change her name and disappear to some godforsaken place-

Buzz

Jennette groaned, stopping her mental torture, and went to check her who texted her. It was her cousin, of course.

Heads up, I think Lucas wants to meet with you. If you wanna hid out you can come join Kiel and me at the volleyball court :)))))

That was it. Jennette was going to change her name and move to Greenland. She could probably hid from her shame in Greenland.

—

Lucas had no idea where to start. He isn’t known as a loner among his group for no reason- Hell, he was only friends with Athanasia because she was a force of nature- but other than that… he has acquaintances, not friends.

How did Athanasia socialize? She threw volleyballs at people, and that helped him not at all. He could throw water at Jennette maybe, but that would probably only make things worse. Dang it, why was his only friend a damn volleyball player. Why did that volleyball player have to be his only example of how to interact with humanity. Fuck, he was getting ahead of himself. He needed to find the girl first, thinking about volleyball and Athanasia wasn’t helping.

So of course he found Jennette at the volleyball court with Athanasia. Why volleyball? Why did everything in his life always come back to volleyball. She was sitting next to Ezekiel, spinning a volleyball and chatting absentmindedly with the fellow athlete as they watched Athanasia practice.

“Lucas!”

He turned away from the two runners at Athanasia’s call. His blonde best friend was waving cheekily from where she was practicing her serves. “Go sit will Kiel and Jenny! I’m almost done!”

Yes, Opening! Lucas nodded at his friend before walking over where Ezekiel and Jennette were sitting.

 Ezekiel nodded at him, as charming and sociable as usual. “Lucas.”

“Ezekiel.” Thank god for acquaintances. He’d have no idea what people startedd conversations with without them. He then zero’d in on the jewel eyed girl sitting next to him, she looked slightly petrified. 

“You’re Jennette right? I’m Lucas.” Introductions. You were supposed to start with introductions. He took a deep breath before he continued,” Guess we’ve been a popular subject in the paper recently huh?”

“I’m sorry,” She suddenly blurted out, looking like she could burst into tears, “I know you probably hate me but I promise-“

Lucas suddenly felt a migraine coming on. How did he mess up introductions? This is why he didn’t talk to people he couldn’t help but think as he interrupted the trembling girl. “I don’t hate you”

“The press thinks you hate me.” The press also thought Lucas hated Athanasia when they first became friends, it didn’t make that true.

“I don’t.”

“But-“ Lord did this girl like to press on issues.

“If you’re so worried about the damn rumor,” Lucas stated dryly,” How about I take you out for lunch and we give the paparazzi a reason to stop thinking we hate each other.” 

Jennette, absolutely fluster by this boy -who is definitely hotter when he’s a few feet in front of her-, completely panicked at the implications of his offer. Impulsively, she threw the volleyball in her hands straight at him. Her aim rang true and the ball smacked him right in his forehead. 

Somewhere in the court, the bright sound of Athanasia’s laughter rang out and next to them Ezekiel gave a panicked yelp. That didn’t matter though as the only thing ringing in Lucas’ head was the sound of Jennette’s stuttering apology and the fact that he got hit by a damned volleyball again.

…

The next day, Athanasia sent an article titled Jennette vs Lucas: Assault with Volleyballs? to Jennette, Ezekiel sent her numerous texts questioning her on her mental help, and the young runner’s main coach was definitely setting off her phone of with inquiries on what in the world is happening Jennette. Jennette, shyly sitting across from Lucas in a quaint cafe ignored all of them.

[ladyriia]

Was thinking of how Ei and Athy basically come from the same world and are both reincarnated, so they would speak to each other more naturally, slipping back into more modern terms and perhaps even meme-like sentences.

Sometimes, the maids of the Emerald Palace would listen to their conversations and wonder what the hell is going with these two because they cannot recognize half the words.

Ei: *looking at Claude from afar* You are my daaaad-

Athy: *following her* You're my dad!

The both of them: boogie woogie woogie

The maids: .....

[op-peccatori]

a lacey birthday | lucathy

Fandom: 어느날 공주가 되어버렸다 | Who Made Me A Princess

Pairing: Athanasia de Alger Obelia/Lucas

Rating: Mature

Summary: Athanasia wonders if this will be the one birthday Lucas won't make it to. Lucas hates to disappoint. Lucathy, aged up.

Tags: birthday fluff, lucathy, KISSING

Notes: I stayed up till 8 am reading this webcomic, of course this was coming. Now the question is...should there be smut?

Chapter 1

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a mountain of chocolates.

She could see the ones with caramel fillings, the extra special ones Lilly made and even the ones Jennette had gifted her the first time. She spotted the ones her father had acquired from different kingdoms. It was all for her and to no one’s surprise, she reached for the box Lucas had gotten her in lieu of an apology after a nasty argument. Her fingers rubbed against the silky green ribbon as she slowly unwrapped the box, her lips quirking up in a small smile. 

And then her eyes fluttered open to the sight of her room, bathed in moonlight and empty of any treats.

Athanasia rolled over in bed and sighed, feeling oddly pitiful. She couldn’t escape missing him even in her dreams. It wasn’t something she could say she enjoyed. She had grown selfish in her time in this world, constantly needing to keep her loved ones close to her.

Her childhood friend had left on another trip months before her eighteenth birthday and even though she had gotten used to his disappearing on various adventures, not having him by her side always left her feeling restless and upset. Her mind went back to the assortment of chocolates she had been about to eat in her dream, remembering the ruby eyed mage’s preference for the white ones. Her heart ached with the memory of him insisting she share them with him, how he’d sulked when she refused to do so and the way his cheeks had flushed when she held one up to his lips herself.

She’d had a wonderful birthday. Her personal life was peaceful enough to give her moments of suspicion, especially whenever she saw Claude interact with Jennette. It was silly, because the man still kept the other girl at an arm’s length, only giving in because she was dear to Athy. She avoided thinking about how her papa still looked at Ijekiel.

Coming back to her misery-her life in Obelia was the stuff of dreams, so why did her heart still hurt? Everyone deserved to have their own lives. Especially someone like the royal magician, who surely had a million things to attend to instead of fooling around with her. Her fists clenched around the soft covers as she squeezed her eyes shut, willing herself to go back to sleep and half-hoping she’d have company this time.

“Well, this is a pretty lame way to end a birthday.”

Her eyes flew open, her heart giving a hopeful jolt because she knew that snarky tone, and she squinted at the figure standing in front of the windows. It could only be one person. Only one man had eyes like that, that could cut others down so easily yet look at her like they were trying to commit every inch of her to memory. 

Not many could appear in her room from thin air with such ease, confidence, and nonchalance at the thought of the Emperor’s wrath. Overpowered mage or not, Claude would not let her childhood playmate escape unscathed if he found out about their late-night conversations. The former playmate in question waited for her to finish processing his sudden appearance, only tilting his head in amusement. 

“Lucas,” she breathed. Oh, he was here. Here, before her birthday was over. In her room, while she was in bed wearing the rather risque nightgown the other princesses had snuck into her room as a secret gift. She hoped the way she drew the sheets up to her neck wasn’t too telling.

But Lucas seemed to be focused on her face, as if he was searching for something. “Aren’t most eighteenth birthdays a bit more...wild? You don’t even seem tipsy.”

“My father’s acceptance of my sweet tooth doesn’t extend to alcohol. Especially not with other boys my age around,” she told him, rolling her eyes.

“That’s unfortunate,” he drawled. He pulled his cloak back to present her with quite possibly the prettiest bottle of wine she had ever seen, along with a mischievous little smirk. Athy’s heart thudded at the latter. “I guess you’ll need to make sure this stays hidden.”

A grin immediately stretched across her lips as she sat up, making grabby hands at her gift.” Finally, an adult gift.” She was kneeling on her mattress, waiting for him to hand it over. Except, he seemed to still completely. She frowned at the way his lips pursed, wondering what his deal was.

Her confusion lasted until she felt the cool air pass over her bare legs, and then her heart dropped into her stomach. “Oh, um,” she stammered. She could only fidget in place as he examined her, his expression darkening with every inch of black lace he took in. She felt exposed, which was admittedly not an unfamiliar feeling in the presence of the man who could always see through her.

“I see I wasn’t the only one with that idea,” he said icily. She refrained from rolling her eyes, well aware of his protectiveness that could even rival her father’s on his good days.

“Some of the other girl’s thought I should, you know, have something mature. Just to myself, so I could feel like a lady,” she muttered. She quite liked the nightgown herself, even if it edged too much towards lingerie for her to ever wear it in front of anyone else. It was a deep blue in color, adorned with black lace around the neck and the bottom, which reached her knees.

Tasteful yet sexy. Something no one but Lilian could see, ever. 

As always, Lucas somehow ended up being an exception to the ‘no one else can know about this’ rule.  

The man himself stepped towards her, looking more thoughtful now as he handed her the bottle with no protests. She cradled it to her chest, somehow more self-conscious about the slight curves she’d begun to develop. It felt like she had changed in the months he’d been gone.

Athanasia wondered if Lucas had similar thoughts in mind, because he only nodded. “I just wanted to drop that off before the night was over. And...happy birthday, Princess.” The small but soft smile directed at her seemed to warm her down to the tips of her toes, a feeling she couldn’t get enough of. Which is why when he turned away, she reached for his hand while keeping his present in the middle of her pillows safely. He turned back to her in slight surprise, his long fingers curling around hers in a way that was all too familiar.

She got the feeling he was running away.

She didn’t actually know what to say, all she knew was that she wanted him to stay a little longer. Squeezing his hand tightly, she slowly got off the bed and stood before him. It seemed he’d chosen to do a little growing as well, because she had to crane her neck to really look at him.

“You didn’t even let me thank you,” she told him quietly, moving even closer. Her impossibly blue eyes zeroed in on his Adam's apple as it bobbed, Lucas gulping as she slowly closed the gap between them.

“There’s no need for that. I just thought I’d drop in before you threw a tantrum.” His words were all snark but his tone was like that of a man stranded in the desert. He didn’t take his eyes off her for even a second, his gaze intense as she stood upon the tips of her toes. Her hand came to rest on his steady shoulders as her lips were pressed to soft skin, not quite on his cheek and dangerously close to his mouth. 

“Thank you, Lucas,” she whispered, not trusting her voice to work normally. He was always so warm, she felt a bit dizzy at feeling it. 

The sound that came from his mouth was quickly stifled, and Athy felt like her face was on fire. But there was no embarrassment now, only determination. A warm pooling of something deep in her belly that called for less distance between them.

She stayed there, her lips hovering over warm skin and anticipation fueling her until he finally turned his head and let his own touch hers, in the barest hint of a kiss. They stayed there for a moment, breathing each other in, wanting so badly. Then, Athy’s fingers were in his hair and Lucas’ hand was on her waist, lips slotting together with a sense of urgency. 

His thumb stroked her skin through the soft material, his thoughts flying out the window. They kissed as they argued, neither willing to back down as the space between them was minimized, until they reached a rhythm that worked for them. She was pressed up against him by an arm around her waist and a hand at the back of her head as he tilted her head back to go deeper, to get more. More, as she shyly licked at his mouthed. More, as he opened his mouth with a low growl, inviting her in with no intention of ever letting her go.

They pulled away toon soon, their chests burning with the lack of air and a sense of satisfaction. Her eyes sparkled in the darkness, laughing breathlessly as he placed soft. frantic kisses on every inch of her face. Both of them, who had experienced being all alone, were completely unwilling to let go of the other.

“Lucas,” she panted, burying her head into his shoulder as she clung to him. Lucas was worse off, his hand tightening within golden strands as he kissed the top of her head. He fought the urge to whisk her away, to keep her to himself forever. He wondered if this was real, but the sting of Athy’s fingers digging into his side helped with that. He smiled as a thought came to him, one that had crossed his mind several times since he first met her.

Princess Athanasia was going to be the death of him. And he was going to enjoy every second of it.

[rayveos]

What I’ve Read This Quarantine (Part 1: Who Made Me A Princess)

The pandemic has greatly affected our daily routine and of course, it is inevitable to get bored. Worse, we get bored but we don’t have any idea what to do. If you haven’t tried reading manhwa/manhua yet your entire life, I beg you not to deprive yourself some good reads! Not only are they entertaining, they are also helpful for aspiring writers who are suffering from writers’ block. 

This is why I thought of compiling beautiful stories! (Anyway, for those are still confused, manhua and manhwa are different versions of manga. Manhua, for the most part, is made in China, while Manhwa is made in Korea.) 

Here we go then! Let’s go for the first! 

Title: Who Made Me A Princess / Suddenly, I Became A Princess One Day 

Author/Artist: Plutus, Spoon.

Genre: Comedy, Fantasy, Isekai, Romance

Status: Ongoing (But the novel has been long finished) 

Synopsis: There’s bedtime story called ‘A Lovely Princess’ in modern time. Of course, it has a happy ending, but not for Princess Athanasia, the protagonist’s sister. She was falsely accused of poisoning Jeanette (the protagonist), which led to her father, Claude de Alger Obelia to execute her. The emperor never mourned for her death despite her name being cleared of accusations afterward, declaring that he never considered Athanasia as his daughter. But then, the woman who was reading this bedtime story is transported to the story and is born as Athanasia. Still with her memory about the story intact, she’s determined to change her fate as Athanasia through all possible methods she can find. 

What to expect: 

1) You might’ve seen this poster somewhere else and thought that it will be about incest. NOPE. (But sometimes I wish it is) Athanasia and Claude is the best father-daughter team I could think of. And we have two male leads here that will fight for her love. That is of course, if Claude will allow it. 😏

2) This story will make you drool even for the antagonists because they are looking so fine! Not to mention I have this immediate crush on silver-haired and blue-eyed characters. I assure you, no matter the age of the characters in this story, you won’t be able to deny the quality of their looks. (Yes, thank you for the artist for blessing our eyes with gorgeous artworks.) 

3) Plutos is also the artist/author behind Beware of the Brothers. From what I gathered, Hari Ernst (the protagonist of “Beware of the Brothers”) is living the same timeline and universe, but not the same country as Athanasia. Hari’s brother once studied in the same institution as Ijekiel (a male lead in Who Made Me A Princess). Athanasia’s marriage and final partner was also mentioned on the novel version of “Beware of the Brothers.” [No spoilers!] 

4) It’s difficult to choose between the two male leads, though personally, I’m Team Lucas. (We can talk about him later on because one post won’t be enough for Lucas, yaaaas)

5) To be honest, the development of the story was very well done. For someone who’s a daddy’s girl, my heart flutters watching Athy to slowly feel affection to Claude and vice-versa. Claude may look cold but he’s a softie inside. Yieeee!

6) There are awesome secondary characters such as Felix and Lily! They’re both badass in their own way and sometimes, I consider them main characters too because of how big their roles are in Athanasia’s and Claude’s lives. Needless to say, there’s a ship sailing for these two uwu.

7) The plot is not entirely predictable. Being isekai-ed is always a source of mystery and thrill. It’s not everyday you get transported to a different world and be a princess, right? However, in Athanasia’s case, the reason for this transportation is quite obvious at first... until you get to the middle and realize that there’s more to it that you already know. 

8) Most of the chapters are full of sweetness except for when the storm came. I can’t tell what kind of conflict it will be but I cried for it. Like literally. Damn, Claude.

9) The Imperial Family of Obelian Empire has the best eye color I have ever seen. I mean, I adore red, blue, gold, etc. But those crystal eyes, ugh! The eye color’s name is Cerulean Blue, by the way! There’s a quick briefing on the first chapters why only the Royal Family members have that. So far, I think her eye color is the most popular among manhwas/manhuas. In Instagram, you can check some pretty cool edits where they replace particular characters from other stories with her eyes. :) 

10) There are scenes where magic is involved. But it hasn’t been that elaborated or explored yet except for Lucas’ explanations and Athanasia’s research on the later chapters. 

This story is really beautiful and it will remain as one of my top ten! You can read it various sites. You can check these links out: (M1) (M2)

Don’t forget to support it too on its official home: https://www.tappytoon.com/series/whoprincess/1

Which manhwa/manhua should I share next? Or do you have any topics you want me to tackle? Feel free to leave me a message on my board or to leave a request if you want to! :)

[ladyriia]

Chapter 11 of my wmmap fanfic is out ♥

[ladyriia]

" The Secret Gem of Obelia" Chapter 8 is out on Wattpad! ♥

[ladyriia]

Illustration for Chapter 7 of " The Secret Gem of Obelia"!

New chapter is up on Wattpad!

Ei goes to the apothecary with Ame. The trip doesn't go according to her plans.