Chapter Text
You were summoned before your Emperor first thing in the morning; the guard insisted it was a serious meeting and you were to meet with him right away. You didn’t have the time to bestow your jewelry upon your skin as you normally did. You hoped the blush upon your cheeks alongside your lip rouge would be enough to adorn your appearance.
You bowed before the man on the throne and your fellow consort, who embraced him closely.
“I have been told by a delightful robin that you have been traipsing about with the resident Diviner. That your visits to her are driven by a sense of desire, rather than that of a customer requesting her services.”
You bit your tongue as you peered up to see Savia sneering in your direction, the woman who recommended Diantha’s services firstly to you.
“This robin does not want to see the mouse be tempted by such things, such is the mouse's duty to its Emperor… would you agree?” You feel your skin begin to grow moist under the sudden stress.
“Yes, your highness,” you plead.
“Mice who go out in search of pleasures not befitting them do not deserve to live within my walls.” He repudiated.
You realize that your position within the concubines has been truly threatened, and Savia made sure of it to better her own position. Was there anything you could even do to fix this? Your shoulders ever so slightly drooped at the thought.
“However, all is not lost.. Little mouse of mine. If you are willing to become my rat.” You scowled on the inside; the true rat was right there cozy upon his chest.
“What would you wish of me, your highness?” you questioned, paying mind to keep your voice level and calm.
“Bring that filthy Diviner to me without trouble. Today. I have been recently informed that she may be a devil in disguise,” the Emperor’s eyes darkened as he spoke. An elf. You knew this well. Of her half-elf parentage and her desperate desire to avoid such discovery. Your stomach began to churn. “You will bring her to your room without detection, and my guards will be stationed there in waiting. Not to worry, my other dear pets will be kept busy away from that wing to help lure her in.”
He tapped the arm of his throne; the thuds were thunderous in your voice as he bellowed, “You will not fail in bringing her to me, and I will see that your position among my pets will not be disturbed further.”
A bead of sweat drops from your jawline- lips curving into a crude smile as you agree to turn in your beloved Diviner. Of course, you’d aid in her capture to save your own hide in this unforgiving political landscape. You had to convince the Emperor, nay, convince yourself that you would always do his bidding to turn the tide back towards your favour.
The man on the throne waves you off and whispers something into Savia’s ear. As you turn to leave, the woman’s giggle pierces your ears. A terrible sting upon your mind to be dropped into this scenario. You had begun to court the Diviner when you first heard of her services, and you could not resist the charisma that she bestowed so willingly upon you. Now you had to confidently lead her to her own doom without arousing suspicion.
Before all of this, you both had developed a routine with one another; the concubine would visit Diantha's parlour with any myriad of requests- they’d spend the afternoon together until the concubine needed to sneak away. The Diviner’s words always soothed your mind- and her hands would trace along your own. A gentleness the emperor could never provide-
You shake your head in fear and look up at Diantha’s door before you. How many times have you seen this door now? Would it be the last? Would everything Diantha had built within be tossed and burned? You attempt to twist the embossed handle, although it remained locked; the only other place Diantha could be right now is the shared garden where she cultivated various florals and herbs for her perfume making. She always did adore that little patch of Eden within the castle's walls; she said it soothed the child within her from long ago.
You made your way through stone passageways and cobbled stairs; you have yet to memorize the castle's layout in its entirety, except for the paths you and Diantha took together thanks to the past few moons. You know exactly what to do to gain Diantha’s interest and convince her to follow you. But would you have the strength to follow through with this?
Shouldn’t you both just run away? Run back to your homeland in the east, where such prejudiced ways of living did not befit the people of Caere. You shudder. Who’s to say the emperor wouldn’t pursue you with tyrannical fury until he has captured the half-elf that was under his nose the entire time and the filthy concubine who danced with her? It would be unexcusable to him… unless she followed through.
Your clicking shoes dulled to a soft thud as you stepped out into the garden, enveloping your figure in sunlight and blinding your eyes. You could smell the flowers before you could hear, and you heard Diantha’s ambrosial voice before you could see.
“Ah.. come sit with me, my dear. Today I am picking Ellurian rosehips for perfumes. You’re free to help me if you so wish.”
You blinked, and there she was, coocooned safely in a corner of the garden. Enveloped among the flowers. Her mauve locks cascaded down her back and glimmered in the light. Her hair was tied back with a velvet cloth, revealing her warm features. You approached the diviner and kneeled by her side. Instantly beside her like a moth in the candlelight.
“How do I go about picking these, Diantha?” you queried. Your body instinctively relaxed beside her, despite the swirling battle in your mind. Diantha pressed into your right side as she reached toward a sprig of untouched rosehips; your nose picked up the rich scent of amber radiating from Diantha’s skin.
“Unlike this region's roses, Ellurian rosehips need a delicate touch to remove the dried petals,” she raised your hand with her own and demonstrated the movement. “Tug upwards, and then pull parallel to the ground.” The petal popped out with ease. “See?” She looked at you with approval, her green eyes sparkling. “Once you have finished this section, I will come back and show you how to remove the rosehips.” She pulled away and slid a woven basket towards your knees before circling to the opposite side of the rosebushes, directly across from yourself.
You let out a shaky sigh before continuing the same motion as before, shk.. A petal is added… shk… another petal. You could feel your heart floating down into your stomach with every petal’s removal.
Can I do this? You thought while peering towards Diantha; her silhouette lined up with the stem of the rosehip and its petals. Shk… another petal is removed from it. You reach for the last remaining petal, Shk… surging heat bolts down your fingers as you instinctively pull back, dropping the petal. Your vision glows and blurs under the heat of the sun.
What?!
You rub vigorously at your eyes and look back at the stem. All you can see is Diantha’s body tied to the stake; flames flickering at her feet. An eerie scream pelts through your mind. Then the vision disappears with no pain in your hand and only a job half done before you.
Diantha's footsteps begin to approach, and you instinctively panic and proceed to grab hold of a stem and squeeze your right thumb onto a thorn. Quickly, you cradle the hand into your lap.
“Are you alright?” Diantha’s voice floats over her shoulder, intertwined with the chiming of her jewelry.
“I- my grip slipped, and I pricked my hand.” You look up at Diantha only to see another vision of her screaming face. You can only grimace and look down at the consequence of your actions.
“Oh, poor thing, I’m terribly sorry, I sometimes mess up myself, yet I can risk scratches on my hands, unlike the Emperor’s beloved concubines. She quickly kneels back down beside you, golden earrings rippling in the sun. A mysterious jar is quickly revealed from a hidden pocket, and cool salve is swiped onto your thumb with little resistance.
“This should help accelerate the healing process; a prick like that shouldn’t scar, but please do let me know if it does.” There is a tinge of sorrow in her voice that causes bile to rise in your throat.
“T..thank you, Diantha, truly,” you say, forcing the bile back down. Both Savia and the Emperor’s threats lingered over your head. You have to follow through, or you might end up with a fate far worse than what's planned for her. Just forget about that charming smile and eloquent voice.
Forget!
A smile creeps back up onto your lips, “Would you be willing to indulge me, Diviner?” finally you can look at her without fear.
She tilts her head in curiosity, “I am compelled, please do go on.” She extends her hand to help you up. You graciously accept with your left hand and rise to meet her. You brought your voice to a whisper,
“I wish to show you a piece of my homeland, or rather a piece of myself.” Diantha’s eyes widen with intrigue; afterall, all concubines are forced to be stripped of their identity when becoming one of the Emperor’s precious consorts. They are forced to learn the language if they are not familiar, and strictly trained on Auctorian customs. To a woman like Diantha, revealing something that should’ve been beaten out of you a long time ago would surely grasp her attention.
“My quarters will be empty of onlookers until the third hour if we hurry…”
“Of course, I would be deeply honoured by your magnificence.” Diantha bowed into a light curtsy. “I will just drop off my baskets before meeting you at the usual place?”
“Ah, no!” your voice heightens for a brief moment, “I don’t think we have the time, Diantha… and I don’t want to risk being seen in the usual spot. I think the other ladies have been suspecting my absences lately.” It was only a half-lie. Diantha looks thoughtful for a moment, clearly considering her options, which made you extremely worried. If you don’t bring her… who knows what might happen
“Alright, I’ll just keep my baskets with me.. In exchange, you have to aid my burden, dear.” She held out the basket of rosehips to you.
“Of course, I will do so just for you.” Hands firmly wrap around the basket's handle. You can feel the individual strands of Moylen stems wrapping and twisting over one another along your palm.
The pair of you leave the safety of the courtyard garden to make your way to the west wing, weaving through halls aglow with the myriad colours of stained glass windows. You watched the colours wash over Diantha with a guilty awe. She spoke of delightful things, and yet all you could think about was how the red hues poured over her… like blood. You held the basket of rosehips tighter; her burden would never truly escape you.
Once more, you find yourself facing a door… this time to the harem’s living quarters. Once you step through, there truly is no going back. You place your hand on the ruddy oak and steel and push forward, hushing Diantha before quickly slipping inside together.
If a passerby observed that door after they had entered, they would hear the thudding of armour as men shouted hasty orders. Only to be followed by the screams of the Diviner, and the cries of the concubine.