Sibling Rivalry

You turn to see Princess Viola striding imperiously down the hall, a cluster of guards in tow. Her presence is commanding, her blue eyes sharp and her posture regal. She stops in front of you, her gaze sweeping over you with a mix of irritation and relief.

“I’ve been searching everywhere for you,” she says, her voice clipped. “Where are your guards?”

You shrug, not entirely certain yourself. “I didn’t think I needed them,” you admit.

“Brave, but very foolish, male,” she says, squeezing your shoulder. Her touch is firm, but there’s a hint of warmth beneath her stern tone. “You shouldn’t be walking around without an escort. Not until we can work out who hired the assassins.”

She pauses, her expression softening slightly. “Anyway, no harm done. Come, we have much to discuss.”

She takes you by the arm and guides you down the hall, her guards falling into step behind you. The palace corridors are bustling with activity, servants and nobles alike stepping aside to let the princess pass. Viola’s grip on your arm is possessive, her fingers tight as if she’s afraid you might slip away.

“From now on, you’ll be staying in my quarters,” she says, her voice low but firm. “It will cause a bit of a scandal,” she admits, a faint smirk playing on her lips. “But it’s the only way for me to guarantee your safety for the time being.”

You raise an eyebrow. “We’ve already been together... why should they care?”

She arches an eyebrow, her expression a mix of amusement and disbelief. “You really aren’t from here, are you?”

“Fucking a man and sleeping with him are two wholly different things,” she explains, her tone matter-of-fact. “As the crown princess, I’m expected to satisfy my urges however I see fit. I can fuck any unwed male I please without question.”

She pauses, her smirk widening. “Sharing chambers, on the other hand, is something that is only done after marriage.”

You blink, processing her words. “So this is going to cause trouble?”

“Oh, it will piss off Lord Caldersmith and his cunt of a mother to no end,” she says with a laugh. “And it will frustrate any number of other houses who had hoped I’d choose their scion as my consort. And mother...” She trails off, her expression darkening as an auburn-haired woman steps out of the corridor and into her path.

At first glance, you think it’s the queen. But the woman standing before you, though identical in appearance, looks to be barely out of her teens. Her hair is the same fiery red, her eyes the same piercing green, but her demeanor is colder, her gaze sharper.

“You’re in a hurry today, Viola,” the young woman says primly, her voice dripping with false sweetness.

“Anora,” Viola replies flatly, her tone guarded. “So good to see you back safe and sound from the Highlands. I thought you’d be gone for at least another week.”

“We managed to finalize the negotiations with the new Turo Duchess, Alexandra, far faster than expected,” Anora says, her lips curving into a faint smile. “I trust the terms were in our favor?”

“Mother was exceptionally pleased,” Anora continues, her gaze shifting to you. Her eyes are sharp and probing, identical to her mother’s. “So this is the male I’ve heard so much about?”

Viola sniffs, her expression hardening. “Yes. He is my punishment,” she mutters, a faint flush coloring her cheeks.

“Punishment?” Anora laughs, a lilting, knowing sound. “Given your proclivities, I’d think him more reward than punishment.”

Her smile turns sly as she steps closer to you. “Tell me, male, do you enjoy being my elder sister’s ‘husband’?”

Viola’s expression darkens, her jaw tightening. “Enough, Anora. I am your sister, and you will treat me with respect.”

“After what you did?” Anora hisses, her calm facade crumbling into one of seething resentment. Her hands clench into fists at her sides, her body trembling with barely contained anger.

Viola’s face flushes deeper, and she grabs your arm, pulling you away from her sister. “Come,” she says, her voice tight. She practically drags you through the palace corridors, her guards struggling to keep up.

Once inside her chambers, she releases her grip and sinks into one of the room’s many chairs. Her shoulders slump, the weight of her sister’s words clearly weighing on her. “We weren’t always like this, you know?” she says, her voice soft. “When we were younger, she looked up to me, and we were inseparable.”

“What happened?” you ask, taking a seat across from her.

She shrugs, a faint bitterness in her smile. “I slept with a man she was infatuated with.”

“Did you know she was in love with him?”

“Aye, I did,” Viola admits, her voice heavy with regret. “And worse than that, she walked in on us. There I was, naked as the day I was born, riding him like a prized stallion. She’d just turned eighteen, and I suspect he was to be her first.” She sighs, running a hand through her hair. “Not a day goes by I don’t regret it.”

She gets up and pours herself a glass of wine, her movements slow and deliberate. She hesitates for a moment, then offers you one as well. “Most men can’t hold their liquor,” she says, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “But I suppose you aren’t most men.”

“No, I suppose I’m not,” you say, accepting the glass. You sip the sweet wine, savoring the rich, fruity flavors as they linger on your tongue.

The two of you sit in silence for a moment, the tension in the room easing as you enjoy the wine and the companionship. Viola’s expression softens, her earlier frustration giving way to a rare moment of vulnerability.

“Tell me...” she begins, but her words are cut off as the doors to the large chamber fly open.