"What were you doing at the Mercy Bridge?"
Iris looks up, recently a resident habit of hers, from her spot on the marbled floor of the Grand Dukes's main hall. She had turned, flipped, eyed and spotted people one too many times within the previous twenty-four hours as Iris. Aurora Harper would never have to inconvenience her neck so darn much. But as Iris, people above her felt natural order.
A burning sense of deja vu engulfs her upon eyeing the three bejeweled thrones set up on a pedestal with three wannabe deities looking down on her. They looked as dazzling as ever, with their heads held high, and blinding visuals which would only be real in a manhwa.
She'd be annoyed by their mistreatment if they weren't so hecking beautiful! Aurora was weak for aesthetics-!!
The little ravenette sniffles, exchanging a glance with Arcel, before breaking down into literal tears. No honesty had ever made its mark in any royal court, but dramatics had brought a young prince to her prison cell. If Aurora had learnt anything after yesterday, it was that silence is always subdued.
In order to be free, she must prove her innocence!
"Y-Your Grace, you-ur shinning beeing is tain-nted in this dishonest subj-ject's presence! I have li-ied to you!" the little ravenette wails again, quite an ugly crier Iris was, for she could feel her snot leaking to her nose.
It worked because she was Iris, a pathetic looking child, frail and allegedly crumbling under the weight of her own lies. The pooling teardrops, the red of her nose, the swell of her eyes, the biting of her lips— it worked because she was commoner. It would have never worked had she looked like Aurora. It was easier because she was Iris.
This is going to be the performance of her lifetime!
The Grand Duke looked swept with confusion, seeking mental assistantance through glances— was this little girl the same confident peanut he had encountered yesterday?!
"Did you accidentally put her in the occido cells? Did she witness some rouge lament? What happened?" The Grand Duke whisper-questions his attendant. The man in attendance shakes his head vehemently. "I believe she is guilt ridden all by herself, Your Grace," the replies, head bowed in service.
Grand Duke grunts with displeasure. To think he had been slightly impressed with her boldness yesterday. Hmph.
The ravenette sucks in haggard breaths, clenching her small fists around her tattered frock till her knuckles hue scarlet. If the Grand Duke were a tyrant, Iris would have been a sight to celebrate.
"Ha! The girl is finally confessing to her sins!" A rushing voice snarled. "Great be your Grace, my Just and Kind lord!" the same voice greets with an exaggerated demeanour.
Iris turns to spot that cavewoman maidservant from yesterday, grinning at her with a slimy smile. Iris glared back, with all the malice she could sustain in her current pathetic state. How dare the woman try to butt-in The Aurora Harper's monologue?! Her scene demanded undivided attention for she wasn't so close to sucking her snot for nothing!
"Yes, Y-y-your G-grace! I am a l-li-iar and a c-heate-er! I have b-betrayed Her G-grace's trust! I mus-s-t be punished!" Iris wails again, avoiding eye contact with anyone but the floor. She stares at the patterned marble, as her arms wrap around her torso oh-so-feebly.
"Why, you looked pretty honest and resilient yesterday. What happened today? Did the prison bugs bite too hard?" The Grand Duke sneers, supporting his elbow over the armrest of his throne and letting his chin rest on the back of his hand. Through his golden monocle, he eyed the pathetic blob of Iris' head going up and down with cries and sniffles.
Now, was Arcel's turn to take charge.
The little prince pulled at his grandfather's sleeve. "Grandpapa! I heard she was caught on her way here! They dragged her to Mercy Bridge and hit her awfully!" The prince exclaims, obnoxiously loud enough for the entire court to hear. Then, he pretended to whisper in the worst of all ways, putting a hand up to guard his mouth and almost shouting in his grandfather's ear, "I think she is being used!"
The Grand Duke flinched and turned to face the Grand Duchess who nodded at him.
"Is it true?" The Grand Duke inquires, crisp and unsure what to believe.
"It's lies, Your Grace! Who would dare touch Ir—"
The Grand Duke raises a hand of objection and the maid-looking-woman zips her mouth instantly.
"I have asked you something, Iris, and I demand a reply!" The Grand Duke shouts out, foot tapping as his patience ran thin. His grandson had made a loud claim of innocence for this girl and there was no way anyone would contradict it in his presence.
The ravenette vehemently shakes her head in denial. "No, Your Grace! No! I am at fault -!! I lie—Take m—"
"—Shut up!" Another resounding order escapes the Grand Duke's lips and slaps Iris' mouth to a closure. "Guards, search her!" He announces. Immediate footsteps start racing at her.
Iris sucks in a breath. Well that escalated quickly.
She finds herself amidst a circle, surrounded by the Castle guards wearing the Duchy's colours, rose gold and lime green (what an abhorrence), staring at her with cold, heartless faces.
Her eyes widen as their hands reached out. In seconds, before she could register, her sleeves are pulled up and frock risen to a modest degree that let out Iris' scars to the world. Blue bruises staining her skin like a distinguished mushroom.
"It's true, Your Grace." As sudden as they came, the hands abandon her.
Quite stunned into silence, Iris sits while Aurora gathers herself. Her remain fixated on a spot, jaw clenched and nails piercing her palms. Involuntarily. It was eerily shocking — being exposed like this, in public. It came out of nowhere. It wasn't in her and Arcel's plan. She is supposed to be livid, but in all honesty, she cannot move.
The horror drips over her like a slowly overflowing pot. It all feels like home.
Just a bit more exposed.
Just a bit more plain.
Just a bit more embarassing.
Suddenly, she feels a cold draft that she hadn't felt before, ever since joining this body as a whole. It's as if it had been present all along, looming overhead, but Aurora hadn't felt the need to acknowledge it, until now.
She was legitimately fucked.
After all those years she spent gathering her life, hiding behind her shinning stardom- it wasn't enough. The darkness got to her. It would never be enough.
Iris was exposed exactly how Aurora had feared to be— all her life. What happened to the gift of anonymity? what happened to the peace of an incognito existence? was the light of her stardom protecting her all along? not anymore though. She is dead now. Was. Surely will be, soon enough, again.
No- she was thinking again! She needs to stop- it is a spiral she doesn't wish to indulge in. She needs to get away—
Warmth.
There's a sudden warmth.
Iris looks up to into a certain pair of cyan eyes staring through her soul. Hands grasping her shoulders down, wrapping a turquoise cloak around her frame. She didn't know she was shivering until the warmth reached her.
"I, Arcel Jaques Maynard, swear by my name and title to ascertain the innocence of this girl. Leave her be," the brunette announces, eyes never leaving hers. He isn't smiling right now, there is a small frown over his eyebrows and it does suit him. Iris wants to raise her hand and ease it out, but her body doesn't comply. He rubs her back, nevertheless, eyeing her as if he'd lose his favourite toy.
Murmurs rise, allegations are thrown, protests are made but none register the trapped head of the Grand Duke. Did his grandson just... speak for someone else?! The Arcel Maynard he has known all his life, the selfish, mischievous, I-oriented kid just put his name and title on the line for a kid?!
Grand Duke wasn't sure who was being used in this equation. Was it Iris? Was it Arcel? Or was it he, himself, being manipulated by two kids?!
But before the Grand Duke could voice out an opinion, Duchess Arabella beats him to it.
"My son, Arcel dearest, are you sure you know what you're saying? The weight of a promise tied to your name and title can be fiercely burdensome." It was the first time Iris had heard her speak, it was attention grasping. Not loud, not bold but so smooth, so pleasantly, so calmly. Her words were brimming with eloquence and it made Iris' heart flutter for her.
"Yes, grandmum Arabella, I know it," Arcel replies, turning to face the pink haired goddess and smiling at her.
"Very well, my beloved, let us ask her a few questions before this is dismissed. Will you be fine by it?" She gently asks.
Arcel nods, "Yes grandmumma!"
"Always the smartest," Arabella muses.
Iris' heart pounds in its ribcage. What a soft family dynamic-!! So cute!! What she wouldn't do for the Grand Duchess to speak with her like that?!!
"Little girl, do you know the person who has set you up? Who took you to the Mercy Bridge?" The Grand Duchess directs her attention to Iris. Her heart soars and face flushes.
She doesn't know about the accuser, or the accused, but she did know that she was in love with this woman now. Her heart was paper willing to be crumbled by this woman. She could look in her silver eyes and serenade for days to no end. She could write poems, though ill-rhymed, over the beauty of Arabella's cascading spring breath of hair. Heck, she'd even be willing to be choked by them! And—
"Iris, Iris- do you know the person?" Arcel pokes her sides.
"I don't know anything," the ravenette all but sobs out, quite genuinely, but over an entirely different matter than what was being discussed. It took her death to be addressed by such a gentle goddess. Dammit, she would have died early if she knew she would meet a person like Arabella in this lifetime!
The woman coughs again and Iris' heart all but thuds to a stop. Grand Duke instantly caresses his wife and Iris' jaw hangs in jealousy. Wow- what had her life came to...
"You all are dismissed. Guards, keep a lookout on the orient. The person shouldn't be far off from here." The Grand Duke orders and just like that, Iris is a free woman now.
But her heart is trapped by another.
Oh! the disdain of witnessing Grand Duke wrap his arms around his wife's waist and escorting her out.
"Would you like to move now or should I carry you out?"
"I'd like to be carried out, please," Aurora sighs, quite unintentionally replying to Arcel's question. But a forehead flick gets her senses back on track.
"Ouch! What was that for?!" She whines, rubbing her forehead and facing a grinning Arcel.
"We succeeded! Let's go!" He exclaims, getting up and dragging Iris by her hand.
"Yeah— but where are we goinnnnng—?!" The ravenette retorts. No one drags The Aurora Harper away!!
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