As we were in mixed company, she effortlessly slipped back into her “doting older sister” persona. Had Ed and Teodore not been here, I could almost hear her scornful whisper, Well, well, well, it seems a disgraceful little rat has managed to sneak her way onto the premises.
Those eyes, feigning kindness... Her performance as the doting sister was frustratingly flawless, stoking an old flame of resentment within me. Curious, I glanced at Ed to gauge his reaction. To my relief, his expression was stoic, his usual impassiveness shading into slight annoyance as he regarded my sister without any trace of warmth or reciprocated greeting. Despite my previous warnings about Flora’s true nature, I had felt a twinge of fear that he might be swayed by a single charming encounter. Thankfully, my concerns seemed to be misplaced.
My spirits lifted immediately, my face relaxing, marveling at how transformative the support of just one person could be. It was at this moment that Teodore stepped forward, as if to remind me of his presence as well. “It is a pleasure to meet Her Highness’s illustrious sister. Lady Flora Sanchez, I am Teodore Garcia, councillor to His Imperial Highness. Though it pains me to interrupt such a joyous family reunion, I must ask you to allow us to be on our way, as we have commitments to attend to.”
Flora’s eyes subtly reacted to the unspoken message: move aside for royalty. Her smile, however, never faded. “My sincerest apologies,” she responded. “In the excitement of seeing my dear sister, I momentarily forgot my manners.”
“Is that so?” Teodore retorted. “Then, I must say, for someone so eager to meet her dear sister, I couldn’t help but notice quite a pause before you approached us.”
“I must have been so overwhelmed that I was rendered paralyzed with shock,” Flora excused herself with practiced smoothness. “Please forgive me. This reunion was quite unexpected, after all.”
I marveled at the volley of words in sheer astonishment. Flora’s ability to parry Teodore’s sharp remarks with such grace and agility was nothing less than remarkable. Secretly, I envied her eloquence; I knew I would have faltered at the first challenge. Despite my reluctance to admit it, Flora possessed a finesse in social maneuvers to which I could only aspire.
Teodore’s lips pulled into a devious grin. “I see, I see. Then, you must share an exceptionally close bond with your dear sister.” He paused, and in that moment, I swore I saw his eyes glint. “Yet, I must wonder, if this bond is so strong, why have I never seen Her Highness exchange a single letter with Your Ladyship?”
Teodore served Flora undeniable proof of her lies, and yet only the merest, fleeting sign of strain was all that Flora’s face betrayed. Her smile remained fixed, her response breezy. “Lord Teodore. I am sure someone of your position is well informed about the current events in Celestia. It pains me to admit, but the circumstances have left me with no time to write.”
“Of course. But, His Grace Duke Sanchez even found time to—”
Interrupting him, Flora’s tone took on a brisk note. “Oh, I’ve kept you too long already, haven’t I? You mentioned you were in a hurry.” Without waiting for a response, she smoothly sidestepped towards the wall, halting Teodore’s inquiry. “My apologies. We must take up this conversation another time, mustn’t we?”
And that was that. Teodore had made it clear that we had prior commitments, leaving no real justification for prolonging our stay. He resumed leading us past Flora, signaling it was time to move on.
“Good luck today, sister,” I said as I passed.
Behind me, the faintest click of a tongue reached my ears. It was hardly the harshest retort in my long history of Flora’s dismissals, so I ignored it and continued walking. But then, I felt a gentle pressure on my cheek—a large, comforting hand. “Are you okay?”
Looking up, I met Ed’s gaze. In contrast to his curt words, his golden eyes were brimming with kindness and warmth. “I’m fine,” I reassured him, surprised by my own calmness. “I thought I’d be more emotional seeing my sister, but much to my own surprise, I’m feeling fine. And Teodore was there to counter her sharp words. That was actually very satisfying.” As I replayed the scene, relishing the memory of Flora on the back foot for the entire duration of that short encounter, a small giggle escaped me.
Teodore’s eyes crinkled into a smile. “I am beyond glad you found some amusement in that, Your Highness.” His expression shifted to one of concern. “Though I must ask, is Lady Flora suffering from some ailment? She seemed quite the worse for wear.”
I shook my head. “Flora has always been the picture of health, save for the occasional cold. That pallor was unexpected to me as well. Maybe the preparations for the trials were more taxing than expected? But I can’t be sure...”
“Because Your Highness doesn’t think someone as meticulous as Flora would let herself lose her edge right before something as critical as the trials, correct?”
I nodded at Teodore, who was on the exact same line of the exact same page as me. Besides the recent mana-beast and crop issues plaguing Celestia, I’d never seen Flora suffer so much as a single failure. Flora’s reputation as the “perfect lady” was not mere lip service; it was borne out of her relentless drive for excellence. To slip up, and in so visible a manner, I would have thought was inconceivable.
Is there something going on behind the scenes? My thoughts were interrupted by Ed’s venomous and unhesitating dismissal of the topic of his sister-in-law’s well-being. “Why are we discussing the health of that woman? It has nothing to do with us. Instead, we should be focusing on the trials ahead.”
He didn’t even deign to use her name. Clearly, he had no intention of recognizing Flora as family.
Teodore smiled. “You’re absolutely right, Your Highness. Now there’s a phrase I didn’t think I’d be saying today.”
Ed bristled. “You! That last part was clearly unnecessary!”
“On the contrary,” Teodore snickered under his breath. “Without it, my compliment to you would’ve been incomplete, Your Highness.”
Their usual acerbic camaraderie brought a smile to my face. And Ed was right—the trials were imminent; our focus needed to be razor-sharp. I gently shook my head to dispel any lingering distractions, and I refocused on the trials that lay ahead.
Soon enough, we reached our greenroom. After a brief respite, we proceeded into the venue. Backstage, hidden by the heavy curtain, I snatched a glimpse of the gathering crowd. It was a scant five minutes before the opening ceremony, and the cathedral was already packed to the brim. Without a doubt, it would be a full house. Waiting in the wings behind the curtains alongside me were the other saintly candidates. Flora was among them, of course, but I had resolved to pay her no mind, and so ignore her I did.
Just as I’d managed to gather my composure one final time, a clergyman took the stage. “Ladies and gentlemen, please rise for the opening ceremony,” he declared solemnly in a voice resonant with purpose.
There was a collective rustling as all members of the audience—aristocrats and royalty alike—rose to their feet. The directness of his request went unquestioned, reflecting the gravity of the occasion.
The clergyman, now serving as the host of the event (albeit one much more staid than Prince Gilbert had been at the preliminaries), clasped his hands together in prayer and closed his eyes. “In the name of our Lord, I hereby declare the Saintly Trials begun. May God guide all of His candidates and be with us all. So may it be.”
“So may it be,” the audience echoed back in chorus.