⟬ Flashback: Elven War Camp, half-a-malm away from the Tree God's Forest, the previous evening. ⟭
Imperia sat still on a smooth rock, keeping still as one of her men re-braided her silver hair.
Even with the gentle babbling of the nearby brook keeping her at ease, she grit her teeth at her attendant's roughness. It was a headache to always wear them so tightly... but it got in the way, otherwise.
Every now and again she considered cutting it short... but long hair was something of a status symbol in House Vulkoori.
Mother would have thrown a fit.
"Is everything alright, Princess?" The bladesman asked.
She turned up to glare at him, activating the magic in her eyes, "Be silent, Warrior. Just ⌈Do As You're Told⌋..."
The filthy male flinched, but he bowed in obeisance as the compulsion enchantment took hold... and as proper decorum dictated.
"As you wish, milady."
Imperia sighed in annoyance. She was being more curt as of late... a trait she personally hated, as she'd been on the opposite end of it for most of her life.
She couldn't help it.
Since leaving Whitehearth, she only had one thought on the forefront of her mind:
Mother was an insufferable b*tch.
It didn't matter how fast Imperia's casting ability had progressed over barely a century. It didn't matter how many quests or contracts she completed in the name of House Vulkoori. It didn't matter how many of her innocent sisters she made disappear... or how many loyal warriors' careers she ruined to advance someone else's agenda.
For Mother... it was never enough.
ραпdα nᴏνɐ| сom Imperia had never remembered asking her mother for anything.
When she was younger, she made the mistake of asking for frivolities afforded by the other Elven daughters. Why did they get to wear expensive dresses and go to festivals? She was a Princess too.
Mother did not agree.
Such observations only earned her ire... and Imperia was scolded or beaten if she even was caught looking for too long at one of her mother's fanciful dresses.
Fineries were only granted to those who deserved it.
Imperia didn't ask for respect.
That, she had to earn on her own... commanding it from her servants... then her lesser peers... then her rivals. She learned to use every means available to her, violence, magic... and even her ocular magic, if need be.
Love.
She would never dare to ask for her mother's love. The woman had none to give.
Imperia was a good girl... ever-loyal... too scared to be disobedient.
Doing everything Mother had asked for tens of decades... she thought she had finally earned enough favor for one tiny request.
Thinking that was one of the stupidest mistakes she'd ever made.
When Imperia was finally granted an audience with House Vulkoori's High Priestess... she was not welcomed back as a noble Princess. She was treated like a traitorous criminal.
Mother shouted curses at her, insulted her... reminded that everything she had ever earned in life was a gift-- a privilege granted by her 'benevolent kindness.'
Imperia was forced to kneel on the cold, stone tiles. Her armor and clothes were forcibly stripped from her. She was commanded to strike her head as she bowed to beg for forgiveness.
As for the reason?
For losing her purity to a human.
Before she'd even stepped foot in Whitehearth Mother's spies had already poisoned her with the ugliest, most perverse lies they could imagine.
Imperia couldn't believe it-- even the thought of it was inconceivable. Her surprised laughter earned her several painful lashes upon her naked chest.
And so Imperia cried. She pleaded for mercy. In a pain-wracked haze, she apologized for Mother's every accusation... for her incompetence, for being a selfish whore having copulated with a human...
She even apologized for being born.
It was the only way to appease that heartless woman's fury.
When it was all done and over with, she had a dozen more promises to keep-- promises she could scarcely remember.
...And she had a trio of weeping lacerations on her chest.
Mother refused to allow her magical healing.
The scars would remain... a painful reminder of her disobedience, for the rest of her suns. Since then, she hid her shame behind the same coral armor used by her men.
...Krysaos had never, EVER touched her... not in *that* way... nor any other.
If he did, she'd jam a ham-sized ⌈Water Lance⌋ up his rear and cut. it. off.
He didn't even look at her that way.
...But more importantly, SHE didn't look at him that way!
That man was a level beyond intolerable. He was nothing but a disgusting, chauvinistic womanizer.
Anything that came out of his mouth was either inane, stupid, or worthless.
At any given time, he stank of rum, cheap musk, or the caked makeup belonging to the cheapest tavern whore he could find.
And worst of all, he was HUMAN.
...Granted, if he begged on his knees like a good man was supposed to... she'd consider letting him serve as her footrest.
And she supposed... if he could keep his mouth shut for an entire evening, they could share a starlit dinner together.
And maybe... after they practiced their water magics together-- mostly her teaching him, of course-- she could quite possibly reward him with a kiss.
Her... first kiss.
"I've finished," The Warrior whispered softly.
Upon hearing his voice, Imperia wrinkled her nose in disgust.
She checked the state of her hair with a polished hand mirror. His work was... barely acceptable.
"Good. Now, get out of my sight."
"Princess Imperia... Since we cannot accompany the sovereign into the Tree God's Forest, I was hoping that you and I could--"
"Oh?" Imperia narrowed her eyes, "What's your name?"
"It's... Bizdiil, milady. Your mother, she said--"
"Well, Warrior Bizdiil," Imperia granted the pathetic sycophant the gift of her smile... "Get out of my sight or I'll cut your dick off."
"O-of course, milady," the fool male stuttered.
Imperia watched her attendant leave, awkwardly hurrying away with a figurative tail between his legs. Once she judged him out of sight and hearing... she sighed and splayed herself out on the grass amidst the fireflies.
It wasn't Princess-like behavior.
She sat up to make sure Lady Mina wasn't anywhere near-- then she lied back down again.
All her life, Imperia wanted to be a real Princess.
All her life... she just wanted to make Mother proud.
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