Blades of Desire

Abigail settled into the velvet-padded stool, her gaze drifting toward the ornate mirror as her maids busied themselves, weaving intricate braids into her rich, dark hair. Her expression was a mask of serenity, yet her eyes betrayed a depth of emotion as if the weight of her thoughts threatened to consume her.

Recently returned from a prolonged absence, Abigail's homecoming was prompted by her father's urgent summons. Though she had yet to lay eyes on him, she knew their meeting was imminent. With each delicate stroke of the maids' skilled hands, Abigail's resolve strengthened she was determined to present herself at her best.

A mix of excitement and trepidation swirled within her, tempered by the ache of longing in her heart. She had deeply missed her father, the king, but it was her mother, the queen, whom she missed most. The memory of her mother's warm smile and gentle guidance lingered, a bittersweet reminder of the distance that had separated them for a while. As Abigail's maids worked their magic, she closed her eyes, a silent prayer whispering through her lips that this reunion would bring solace, healing, and a sense of belonging she had been denied for far too long.

Abigail, the first princess of Eldrida, Her long black curly hair cascaded down her back like a waterfall of night, with hints of dark blue undertones that seemed to shimmer in the light. Her eyes, an arresting shade of indigo, sparkled with a deep, mysterious allure as if the very darkness of the night sky had been distilled into their depths.

As the second child of the royal family, Abigail shared an unbreakable bond with her older brother, Crown Prince Rowan. Since childhood, they had been inseparable, their laughter and adventures echoing through the castle halls. Rowan, with his strong sense of justice and unwavering compassion, had always been Abigail's rock, her confidant, and her best friend.

Abigail's younger sister, Avery, was a sweet and gentle soul, with a beauty that rivaled Abigail's own. Though their features differed, both sisters possessed an ethereal quality that had captivated the hearts of many. Abigail's fame had spread far and wide, with her stunning appearance earning her the title of "The Midnight Princess" – a name that whispered secrets of mystery, allure, and enchantment.

Despite the attention and admiration she received, Abigail remained humble and kind, her inner beauty shining brighter than any external adornment. Within the castle walls, she was cherished by her family and loved by all who knew her, her presence a reminder of the transformative power of kindness, compassion, and love.

"My princess, you look as beautiful as always," Aria said warmly, her voice tinged with genuine admiration as she secured the last braid of Abigail's intricately styled hair. She stepped back to survey her work, her pride evident in the satisfied smile that touched her lips.

"Thank you, Aria," Princess Abigail replied with a soft laugh, glancing at her reflection. "You look lovely as well." Her gaze lingered on Aria for a moment, a flicker of affection in her eyes. Aria had been by her side for as long as she could remember more than a maid, a companion who had shared her triumphs and struggles since they were children.

Aria gently clasped a bracelet around Abigail's wrist, the delicate gold catching the sunlight filtering through the chamber's wide windows. "Shall I escort you to the palace now? You're all set," she asked with her usual attentiveness.

Abigail paused, her thoughts momentarily drifting. "No," she said finally. "The king is in a meeting with the ministers. I'm sure he'll send for me when he's ready." Her voice softened as she added, "Take me to my mother's chamber instead. I've missed her terribly."

"As you wish, Your Highness," Aria replied with a nod, exchanging a glance with Irene, another of Abigail's maids, who stood by the doorway with a waiting smile.

The walk to the queen's chambers filled Abigail with a blend of emotions. The long corridors of the palace felt at once familiar and distant. She had been away for months, tending to matters in a neighbouring kingdom. Now, with each step, the anticipation of seeing her mother again swelled within her.

"I wonder how she's been," Abigail murmured aloud, a faint smile playing on her lips. "It feels like an eternity since we last spoke."

"I'm sure Her Majesty will be overjoyed to see you," Aria reassured her, her voice gentle. "She talks about you every day since you left."

Abigail's heart warmed at the thought, though a small shadow of concern lingered. Her father's sudden summons had brought her back earlier than planned, and she couldn't shake the faint worry that something important had transpired. Yet, she pushed the thought aside, eager to embrace the moment of reunion.

When they reached the queen's chamber, Irene stepped forward to knock softly on the grand, ornately carved door. The sound echoed faintly in the stillness of the corridor.

Moments later, a familiar voice called out, "Come in."

Aria and Irene entered first, bowing respectfully. "Your Majesty," Aria announced, her tone reverent. "Princess Abigail has come to see you."

Abigail stepped into the room, her eyes instantly finding her mother seated by the window. The queen's graceful figure was bathed in the golden glow of the afternoon sun, her features softening with a radiant smile as she turned to see her daughter.

"Abigail," the queen said warmly, rising from her seat.

A surge of joy swept through Abigail as she crossed the room quickly, dropping into a deep curtsy before straightening to embrace her mother. "Mother," she said, her voice tinged with emotion. "I've missed you so much."

The queen held her tightly for a moment, her embrace both tender and reassuring. "And I you, my dearest. Welcome home."

Abigail sank into the plush chair beside her mother, her posture relaxed but her gaze curious. The queen's chambers were as elegant and serene as she remembered, with soft tapestries adorning the walls and a faint floral scent lingering in the air.

"How has everything been in the kingdom?" Abigail asked, her voice filled with genuine curiosity. She leaned forward slightly, resting her hands on her lap as she studied her mother's face.

Queen Alicia smiled faintly, brushing a strand of silver-streaked hair from her face. "The kingdom thrives, though not without its challenges," she began. "The harvest has been plentiful, which has brought much relief to the people. But there have been whispers of unrest along our borders, minor skirmishes, nothing yet to alarm the court."

Abigail's brow furrowed slightly. "Skirmishes? Do you think they pose a threat to the kingdom?"

The queen shook her head, her expression calm but measured. "Not at this time. Your father has sent envoys to mediate, and our army remains vigilant. The council has been preoccupied with it, of course, but I believe it is manageable."

Abigail nodded thoughtfully. "I'm glad to hear the people are faring well. And the court? Any notable changes since I've been away?"

Her mother's lips twitched in amusement. "The court remains as it always is, a stage for intrigue and politics.

Queen Alicia's smile lingered, but it faded slightly as she studied her daughter's face. "And you? How was your time in Elmont? Did you find it fruitful?"

Abigail's expression brightened. "Yes, very much so. The diplomatic talks went better than expected, and I feel we've strengthened our alliance. Their court was hospitable, though I found myself missing home more than I anticipated."

The queen reached out, placing a hand over Abigail's. "You've done well, my dear. Your father and I are proud of you."

Abigail felt a warmth rise in her chest at her mother's words. But as the moment settled, the lingering question that had been on her mind since her arrival pushed forward.

"Mother," she began, her tone shifting slightly as she straightened in her chair. "Why did Father summon me back so suddenly? We weren't supposed to return for another month."

Queen Alicia's expression shifted, her serene composure giving way to something more guarded. Her eyes flickered with an emotion Abigail couldn't quite place; concern, perhaps, or hesitation.

The queen parted her lips as if to speak but paused, her gaze dropping momentarily to her hands. Before she could answer, a sharp knock resounded through the room, echoing loudly in the quiet chamber.

Both women turned toward the door. The queen's brows knit together in faint irritation, though her tone remained composed. "Enter," she called.

The door creaked open, revealing a palace guard in polished armour. He bowed deeply, his expression solemn. "Your Majesty, forgive the interruption, but the king has requested your immediate presence in the council chamber. He has also asked for Princess Abigail to join him."

Abigail's heart skipped a beat. She exchanged a glance with her mother, whose composed mask had returned, though her eyes still held that flicker of unease.

"It seems we will have to discuss this later," Queen Alicia said quietly, rising to her feet. She extended a hand to her daughter, her voice firm yet reassuring. "Come, Abigail. Let us see what your father requires."

With a mixture of anticipation and curiosity, Abigail took her mother's hand, following her as they made their way toward the council chamber. The air seemed heavier now, the weight of unanswered questions pressing down as they prepared to face whatever awaited them.

The walk to the council chamber was quiet, but Abigail's heart grew restless. Though her father had always been kind, the sudden summons weighed on her. Her mother noticed and gave her arm a gentle squeeze. "He'll be glad to see you." When the doors opened, King Alden rose from his throne, his stern features softening as his eyes met Abigail's. "Abigail," he said warmly, stepping forward.

"Father," she replied, bowing before he pulled her into a firm embrace.

"You look well," he said, studying her face. "How was your journey? Did you fare safely?"

"The roads were safe, and the talks went well," Abigail assured him. The king smiled, pride evident in his eyes. "You've made me proud, my daughter." He gestured toward the table. "Come. Sit with me. There is much to discuss."

With a nod from her mother, Abigail followed him, ready to hear what awaited her.