Rise of the Unfavored Princess

179 Ch. 178: Forbidden Knowledge

My fingers trail over the word FORBIDDEN, embossed in a foreboding red across the black leather book cover.

Although he isn’t here, I can just imagine the self-righteous smirk he’d have on his face as he quietly asks, “So you like it?”

“A gift within a gift?” Emma asked, seated in the corner of the room while tossing a thick bag of coins up and down.

“Mhmmm,” I hum in confirmation. “It made for a fascinating read.”

Recent nights of insomnia have been assuaged with a well-placed candle on my bedside table and me, huddled right beside it with the book in my lap. I’ve seen Marie’s suspicious glances at the used candle that’s down to its nub every evening, but I’ve been quite hush hush about the book, even with her. I was even going to keep it a secret from Emma, but in true Emma fashion, she discovered the heavy tome within 2 days of my birthday.

“Do you know why magic is forbidden in the Erudian Empire, save for imperial doctors and battle mages?” I ask Emma.

She predictably shakes her head no. I pat the couch pillow beside me, inviting her to sit for a brief storytime.

“The short answer: magic is just too unpredictable and powerful to control. It’s like wrestling for control against a snarling and raging beast with your bare hands.”

“I’ve heard of feats such as that being performed in the circus, your highness. It is difficult, but not impossible,” Emma reasons.

.....

“Indeed,” I agree, “But what if there are two animal wranglers and the second wrangler’s goal is not to control the beast? What if, instead the wrangler is trying to rile up the beast as much as possible before setting it on the watching crowd? Give me one of your coins.”

“Y-Your highness?” A rare stutter graces Emma’s speech. She fails to catch her pouch and it falls on her lap with a loud clink.

I refrain from rolling my eyes. “I’m not trying to steal from you, it’s for the explanation. A coin toss.”

Emma looks at me. I look back at her. Within the refined confines of the sitting room, a showdown reminiscent of the Wild West takes place.

Later rather than sooner, a single gold coin is clutched between two maincured nails.

“Heads, is the good wrangler trying to get the beast back in its cage.”

“Heads?” Emma inquires, confused by the expression.

“My father’s head is on the coin. Hence, heads,” I briefly explain. “Tails, the opposite side of the coin, reprsents the bad wrangler, who wants to incite the beast to prey upon the crowd. If I were to throw this coin into the air, there would be a 50% chance of either side landing face up.”

“50% chance of facing the good wrangler and 50% chance of facing the bad wrangler,” Emma elegantly summarizes.

I nod. “Precisely. So tell me Emma, would you take the chance of facing “good” magic and wrangling the beast back into the cage or face “bad” magic and have the beast feast upon you.”

“I just would not attend the circus altogether.”

“Bingo!” I jump up as she reaches the crux of my explanation. Emma jolts back; I Initially assume it’s from shock, but in my joy I had dropped the coin and she catches it perfectly in the palm of her hand before it disappeared to join its brethren within her purse.

“And that is why magic is banned. Because there is too high of a probability of forbidden magic being used for nefarious purposes within the empire. But this empire was established and conquered with magic by my very first relative who was blessed with Helio’s magic. So in the end, the compromise that was reached is that there can only be marginal amounts of magic allowed for healing and for the followers of Helio within the Holy Church.” I take a bow after my neat little explanation.

I seem to hear a cheer from my captivated audience, but it’s actually just the sound of Angel knawing on the bars of her cage while Devil is off getting groomed. Emma has her typical blank look, although she follows up with a question.

“You learned that from this book?” She points at the forboding tome.

“Not quite. I... I figured it out myself,” I lie. My mind drifts back to the note tucked under the front cover of the book that was secretly gifted to me alongside my precious bunnies. The paper was of fine quality, carrying a faint scent that I couldn’t quite place yet was simultaneously synonymous with Elias.

I wonder if he is well and I feel a pang of hatred for my father.

“It’s an odd book,” Emma concludes. “Do you know where he got it from?”

“...No...” I trace the words on the front cover, making it to the letter D before Emma suddenly leans in, sniffing the book like a golden retriever.

“Excuse me?” I squeak, pulling the book into my chest and clutching my invisible pearls.

Emma’s sensibilities are not as delicate as mine. She has a pensive expression. “It’s an old book. That type of resin hasn’t been used on books in at least a century.”

“First of all, how do you even know that?” I flip it over in my hands, admiring the shiny leather finish that looks brand new. “And second of all, it certainly doesn’t look it!”

“You should burn it now that you have finished reading it,” Emma’s focus falls back to her coin pouch. “Something about it feels dangerous.”

“Knowledge is often dangerous. But enough about this book that’s probably illegal,” I announce, setting it to the side. “It has taught me many, many interesting things that I’m certain will bore you half to death.”

“Not three-quarters to death?” Emma raises 3 fingers.

“Pardon me?” I wonder if I should smack the top of her head with this book to bring some sense back into her.

“Why only half? Why not a quarter? Or perhaps, one-eighth?” The joke slowly dawns on me as a mischievous light fills her gray eyes.

“Oh you think you’re funny now, do you?” I chide Emma with a knowing look. But before I can not so gently give her a piece of my mind, someone frantically knocks on the door and bursts in before I can even open my mouth.

Emma is up in a flash, tossing the coins to the wayside as she leaps over the coffee table in one bound and positions herself between the door and me. Her hand goes under her apron to the hidden pocket that holds my dagger (honestly, it’s her dagger at this point).

A breathless attendant bursts into the room. It’s not Nina, but one of the other silent women who follow me around and makes me look far more important than I feel I am.

Emma deflates, pulling her hand away from the pocket although her unfriendly look remains.

“That was quite discourteous of you,” Emma scolds. Her voice is as passionless as ever, but to the trained ear, a faint current of anger runs through her tone.

The girl falls to her knees, the occasional gasp for air interrupting her speech. “Apologies, your highness. I was sent here by Nina to report that the Head of Staff, Marie, has been detained in a courtyard west of Sunrise Palace.”

Sunrise Palace? Empress Katya’s domain?

I shoot up to my feet. “By whom?” I coldly interrogate as if I can’t already guess who would dare.

Her voice chases me out the door. “By Her Majesty! She seemed to wish harm upon Marie!”

Down two flights of stairs and past a set of bewildered manservants who open up the main entrance door of the central palace, that is how far my feet take me before I’m fully cognizant of moving. But it’s when my unathletic self feels the familiar strain in my chest and my breath starts to come out in spurts that I begin to digest what was said to me earlier.

I come to a full stop, prompting Emma to slow her jog. Irritatingly, she is not even the slightest bit out of breath.

“Why Marie?” I gasp out with my hands on my knees. “And why now?”

I’ve almost taken it for granted, the immunity that Empress Katya has seemingly lent those truly close to me. She did seem to want to woo Emma away for a while, but has for all intents and purposes given up on that as well. So why this today? Katya rarely does anything without a reason.

“Hey, Emma?” I ask without turning around. “Do I have anything worthy of stealing in my room? Anything that would interest someone like my mother?”

She pauses for a beat, no doubt cataloging the worth of everything in my apartments.

“Excluding anything that she could acquire for herself, only your dragon egg or secret book would hold any interest to me.” Emma counts on her fingers, satisfied with her answer.

“Go back to the room quickly. Make sure that attendant doesn’t leave until I come back. I have a bad feeling.” I stalk onward towards my destination while the familiar pitter-patter of Emma’s feet fades into the distance behind me. I hope she is far swifter than I am.

The path stretching out in front of me is more familiar to me than the back of my hand, a favorable circumstance as my head continues to run in circles as I try to make sense of things.

“If there was really a problem, Nina would’ve come herself, rather than send one of her underlings, or technically, one of my underlings,” I muse aloud. “But perhaps Nina would’ve made me too suspicious and then I wouldn’t have come as swiftly as I am.”

Two servants move from the path and bow, I quickly excuse them from their greetings and take no notice of their bewildered expressions at seeing me move about by myself.

“And to detain Marie like this?” I scoff. “Such a haphazard strategy feels a touch more heavy-handed than anything my dear mother would do.”

“There is something I’m not considering...” I conclude as I am spat out into a quiet, sun-dappled courtyard.

With my hands clutched behind my back and sporting an unpleasant expression, I hope that my imposing presence can make up for what my diminutive height lacks.

My jaw clenches tight as my eyes settle on the person seated in the courtyard in a cavalier manner. A ball is tossed up and down from his palm and a familiar smile burns my eyes as I try and fail to raise the corner of my mouth into a smile.

“Julian,” I call out. ‘Seeking greater things’ I believe he claimed when I last saw him. What a bucket of lies. But I should’ve expected that.

“Winnie,” he drawls out familiarly. I remember when I used to cheer up at that stupid nickname.

“What is it you want that made you think it fit to detain my head of staff and attendants, save for the one back in my chambers who I suppose is in your pocket?” Something about him relaxing in a lawn chair after summoning me halfway across the palace causes my words to come out more sharply than intended.

“In my pocket? I missed your charming idioms,” Julian chuckles. He looks so much like Julia, Empress Katya really birthed a pair of twins a few years apart from each other.

Without his leave, I go to Marie and help her to her feet. Her body trembles, but she is strong enough to stand. I hadn’t noticed earlier, but at the mouth of the courtyard where I just entered, 2 tall guards prevent anyone from exiting.

“Very sloppy work I must say,” I continue in an unbothered tone, wiping off invisible dust from Marie’s dress. Our proximity helps my anger as I feel my rage take a backseat and allow me to drive. “But I’ve long known that a good portion of your purported intelligence was simply an overinflated ego hiding behind your silver tongue.”

“Careful,” he chides. The smile wanes, the very opposite of a sunrise.

I glare down at Nina. She trembles on the ground still with the other attendants.

“Get up already,” I bark. “As frightening as these big men may be, they wouldn’t dare harm you.”

“Y-Yes, your highness,” the attendants chirp, stumbling up to their feet in unison. I’m almost curious about what sort of training has made them do everything in sync.

“I don’t like repeating myself, Julian. What is it that you want?” I slowly turn to face my second oldest brother, wishing to swing a fist at his face if it weren’t for our comical height difference.

He truly chose a good time to strike. Augustus is off dealing with a drought issue in an eastern province. Our father is currently supervising a medal ceremony for the knights of the city watch. And obviously, I can not go running to his mother for help.

Julian smiles and catches the ball. It’s bright yellow, just like the ball of light above that is working very hard to give me a sunburn.

“I have heard that you are in possession of a certain book that I happen to be in need of myself.” It’s not a request. It’s a demand.

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