Vivian I

Vivian lets out a harsh breath as she slams the doors to her chambers. She gently presses her back onto the double set of wooden doors, finally able to breathe again. Adelaide had missed the reception that she had been planning for weeks. Dignitaries from across the Empire had come to wish the Princess well and pray to the Three Sisters for her safety, but instead Vivian received these insincere well wishes from disgruntled lords and ladies. Vivian slowly removes her crown from her head, smiling slightly. This golden crown resembled the rising sun when it was worn. It has several diamonds studded into the rays of light coming from the base. This crown had been Vivian’s first when she was presented to the Empire as the Empress, given to her by her Viscount consort. The smile Vivian wears slowly fades as the memories rise.

Vivian shakes them off as she pushes further into her chambers. The trappings of elegance, wealth, and lit candles line the walls of the entire drawing room. The left corner of the room opens up into a rather large balcony. In the right corner of the drawing room, adjacent to her bedroom, there is an ornate vanity mirror pressed against the wall. An elegant, yet simple, mahogany table surrounded by four chairs stands in the center of the room. A blue velvet pillow sits in the middle of a paper-scattered sea on the circular table. Vivian gently lies the crown onto the pillow, slumps into a chair, and hangs her head back over the back of the chair. She could feel exhaustion slowly welling up around her eyes. A gentle rapping beckons at Vivian’s door as she rubs her tired eyes.

“Enter.” Vivian commands as she sits upright, donning the mask of poise once again. The door opens gently as Gretchen quietly enters. Gretchen gives a low curtsy and stands back up, interlacing her fingers. “Do you have anything to report?”

“Your Grace, Princess Adelaide has been safely returned to the Palace. I have made certain that she is now back inside her room. Two sets of rotating guards will be posted there until the morning.” Gretchen beams with pride. Vivian didn’t need to look at Gretchen to know that she felt pride for something she didn’t personally accomplish. Vivian stands from her chair, pulls the hair from neck, and motions for Gretchen to approach. 

“Undo my gown, please.” Vivian says with little emotion. She could feel her heart quicken, yet relieved. Vivian looks to the sky and whispers a word of thanks to the Sister of Justice. Gretchen takes quick steps towards the Empress with her heels clicking on the cold stone floor. With quick motions, the gown loosens around Vivian’s shoulders and waist. “Who brought Addy back to me, Gretchen?”

“R-Robin found her, Your Grace. He would not speak where he found her.” Gretchen hesitates for a second as Vivian walks behind her bedroom’s changing screen. Vivian knows this slight pause and hesitation in Gretchen’s voice: giving credit to someone that she thought did not deserve it. Vivian reemerges from behind her changing screen in a flowing black silk nightgown. She slowly walks back to her chair, taking a seat.

“Robin found her? Fetch me a drink, Gretchen.” Vivian is unsurprised by Gretchen’s response. She knows that Gretchen harbors a distrust towards Robin and his mother ever since they made a home in the servant’s quarters here. Gretchen nods, quickly walks to the nearby counter, and pours a half glass of red wine. 

“Your Grace, may I be candid with you?” Gretchen delivers the glass and slowly steps back into her place. Vivian takes a sip of her drink, smiling. A sudden rush of wind shakes the balcony doors. The doors let out a mild shriek as they partially drift open. The candles flicker with the rushing wind. “Oh, let me close that.”

Gretchen quickly closes the gap between the balcony doors and her, closing the doors swiftly. Vivian tilts her head, looking back at Gretchen. “What would you like to say, my friend?”

“Princess Adelaide’s military assignment. Are you sure it is wise to send her to Fort Myra? So close to the Kingdom of Trassel?” Gretchen questions. Gretchen’s face wincing at the mention of Trassel. Vivian purses her lips together, clearing a spot for her drink on the table, and she stands up. Gretchen shrinks down in stature as Vivian stands. “Of course, I do not mean any offense to your judgment.”

“I have had correspondence with First Commander Yarra about Fort Myra’s personnel quite recently and they need more soldiers. So, I supplied the troops they needed. Myra is an important fort to hold with it being so close to the border.” Vivian snaps back at Gretchen. She takes her glass again, throwing her head back gulping the rest of the wine. As Vivian throws back her head, she notices a small shadow shifting amongst the ceiling tiles. She holds her glass out towards Gretchen. “More, please.”

“Yes, Your Grace.” Gretchen meekly walks towards the counter once again. “Would you like more of the Lastrian red? Or would you like to try the Sylosan white?”

“The red, please.” Vivian saunders over towards her vanity mirror. She smiles with a sense of pride on her face. What could that be traversing her rafters? Some unlucky spy, perhaps? They must be a fool if they thought they could get away with entering her room uninvited. She turns towards Gretchen and says, “Gretchen, my dear, was Adelaide not the cutest child when she was a baby?”

“Yes, Your Grace, very cute.” Gretchen says with a strained smile on her face as she pours the wine into the Empress’ glass.

“Do you remember the time she brought her teddy bear into the throne room while we were having an oath of fidelity from my town that shares my namesake?” Vivian giggles as she starts to rifle through the drawers of her vanity mirror, grabbing onto a rounded handle. She turns towards Gretchen once again, “What did she name her bear again?”

“I believe it was Sir Ernit, Your Grace.” Gretchen carefully walks towards the Empress with the glass in her hand. “She named him after that fictional knight she adored when she was a child.”

With a quick fluid movement, Vivian turns around quickly and throws a long stiletto dagger towards the ceiling. Gretchen let out a startled yelp that was accompanied by the shattering of glass. A surge of wind rips the papers off of the table, kicking them into the air. The barely visible misty figure falls with a gentle grace onto one of the chairs, shredding it beyond repair. A small wooden masked creature, made of winds, writhes on the wood splintered ground. The stiletto blade is stuck in between its two hollow pale blue eye sockets.

“Your Grace, what is that!?” Gretchen yelps.

Vivian smirks insincerely, tilting her head slightly. “Well hello, little one. Did the Silver Bear send you to see me?” 

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