Steel and Sorrow: Rise of the Mercenary king

In the soft light of Jasmine’s chamber, she stood beside her mother, Rosalind, both watching as the royal tailors presented the finished work with quiet anticipation. The gown, draped elegantly over a mannequin, was a rich, regal purple that shimmered faintly under the glow of the candles. Silver embroidery flowed across the fabric, delicate waves curling and weaving from the neckline down to the waist, giving the dress an ethereal, fluid appearance. As the eye followed the embroidery to the hem, the silver waves broke into short, sharp lines, accentuating the elegance of the gown with a subtle edge.

The royal tailors moved with precision and care as they presented their finished work, revealing the gown with an air of quiet pride.

The lead tailor, a woman with greying hair but steady, confident hands, lifted the gown for Jasmine to see in full, her voice calm and respectful. ”Your Highness, as requested, the finest materials were used. We hope that the work is to your liking”

Jasmine stood silently, her eyes tracing the fine details of the dress but offering no immediate response. Her posture was composed, and her face remained unreadable as she absorbed the tailor’s words and the work before her. She reached out, brushing her fingers against the soft purple fabric, feeling the cool, smooth texture under her fingertips.

Queen Rosalind, seated nearby in an ornately carved chair, watched the scene with calm interest, she found her retirement more pleasarable that she would have ever thought. Her hand, wrapped delicately around a cup of apple cider, moved in a slow, practiced motion as she took another sip. Rosalind’s eyes flickered over the dress, her expression one of mild approval, but her attention kept drifting back to her silent daughter.

Jasmine broke her silence, her voice cutting through the stillness with calm authority. ”Who did the silverwork at the end of the dress?” she asked, her eyes narrowing as they focused on the intricate details along the hemline.

The lead tailor, the same grey-haired woman who had presented the gown, smiled brightly, clearly believing she was about to receive praise. ”I did, Your Highness,” she said with pride, clasping her hands in front of her. ”Each stitch was done by my own hand to ensure the finest quality.”

Jasmine’s gaze remained fixed on the tailor, her expression hardening ever so slightly. ”Can you follow orders?” she asked coolly, her words slicing through the air with unexpected sharpness.

The smile on the tailor’s face faltered. She blinked, clearly taken aback by the question, and bowed her head slightly in confusion. ”Y-Your Highness?”

Jasmine’s eyes didn’t waver. ”I told you to finish the embroidery with gold,” she said, her tone still calm but laced with unmistakable displeasure. ”Not silver.”

The lead tailor’s face drained of color as realization dawned. She immediately dropped into a deep bow, her hands trembling slightly. ”A thousand apologies, Your Highness. I—I must have misheard. It will be corrected at once, I swear.”

Jasmine’s gaze remained unwavering, her voice steady as she delivered her next command. ”Get out,” she said, ”and redo the work. Gold, as instructed.”

The lead tailor, along with the other servants, all bowed low, their faces pale and their movements hurried. ”Yes, Your Highness,” they muttered, shuffling backward as they left the chamber, still bent in subservience.

The room fell silent again as the door closed behind them.

Rosalind took another sip of her apple cider, her eyes drifting over the now-abandoned dress draped across the table. ”It was a nice dress,” she remarked casually, the warmth of the cider bringing a slight flush to her cheeks.

Jasmine, still standing, glanced at the gown but shook her head. ”It wasn’t the one I asked for,” she said flatly, her fingers drumming lightly against the arm of her chair. She turned toward her mother. ”I’ve been noticing you often drink apple cider” she added, her tone shifting slightly, as if changing the subject entirely.

Rosalind raised an eyebrow, setting her goblet down with a soft clink. ”Oh? I must say, I’ve grown fond of it myself,” she said with a faint smile, leaning back. ”I fell in love with the taste, that smooth flavor with the kick at the end. It’s quite addictive, don’t you think?”

Jasmine didn’t respond immediately. Her gaze wandered to the wall again, her thoughts seemed distant. Rosalind’s smile faded, her expression turning more serious. ”What’s going on with you?” she asked softly.

Jasmine frowned slightly, her posture stiffening. ”What do you mean?”

”You seem... weighed down,” Rosalind said, her eyes narrowing in motherly concern. ”I’ve seen you handle court matters with ease” She paused, glancing at the gown before turning her full attention to Jasmine. ”And I was there when you ordered the dress. You didn’t say anything about gold.”

Jasmine’s eyes widened slightly before narrowing, a flicker of frustration crossing her face. She let out a slow breath, her shoulders tensing before she turned back to her mother. ”You’re saying I didn’t say it?” she asked, her tone more defensive than she intended.

”I’m saying something’s bothering you,” Rosalind pressed, her voice gentle but probing. ”And you’re taking it out on the servants”

Jasmine remained quiet for a moment, then her gaze dropped, her fingers unconsciously tracing the curve of the chair as she considered her mother’s words.

Rosalind observed her daughter closely, sensing the unease radiating from her. She leaned in slightly, her voice dropping to a more intimate tone. ”Are you scared about the marriage, Jasmine?” she asked, her brow furrowing with concern. ”Is that what’s bothering you?You don’t like him?”

Jasmine met her mother’s gaze, her expression shifting momentarily as if weighing her words. ”It’s not that I don’t like Alpheo,” she replied quickly, a hint of defensiveness in her voice. ”It’s just... I’m nervous.” She turned her gaze away, staring at the tapestry hanging on the wall as if seeking answers in its intricate patterns.

Rosalind’s kind expression faltered, her brows knitting together as she reflected on her own past. ”When I was set to marry your father, the first time I laid eyes on him, he was quite the sight. He had a bald head and was missing an ear. He was full of grand plans, but his skills never matched even his lowest ambitions. He was greedy and foolish, often prone to fits of anger. There was no kindness in him at all and in twenty years I still could not find an ounce of it....”

She took a deep breath, her gaze steady on Jasmine, trying to convey the depth of her feelings. ”Now look at Alpheo. He’s young and quite good-looking if I must say , skilled in ways your father could only dream of. But most importantly, he respects your power. He values your status and prerogatives—something I never had with your father. Alpheo treats you as an equal, never commanding but advising you, always seeking your permission before making decisions related to the princedom.How many men do you think would do that?That they would not get power through their head as soon as the enter into contact with it?”

Rosalind paused, her expression earnest, as if she were peeling back layers of her own heart to reveal her hopes for her daughter’s future. ”Out of all the prospects you could have had, he is far better than anything I could have hoped for and especially anyone your father had for you. You deserve a partner who will uplift you, not one who will stifle your voice. ’’

Her tone shifted slightly, becoming more serious, laced with a mother’s concern. ”It’s important for a woman to marry, Jasmine. It’s not merely about alliances or social standing; it is what is expected of us. But I look back at the eligible men your father, Arkawatt, considered for you, and I shudder. Each one was more unworthy than the last—choices that would have left you unhappy, maybe even miserable, as I was with him.”

She leaned in closer, her eyes searching Jasmine’s for understanding, her voice dropping to a near whisper. ”Your father was more concerned with his own ambitions than any of us. The thought that he had no male heir consumed him and made him furious toward me; I had failed in his eyes, just like the one before me whom he caused a twenty year long rivalry for . He wanted power and influence, and the fact he had none angered him like nothing could. ”

Rosalind sighed, her expression softening as she reflected on her own experiences. ”You have a chance to build a life with someone who respects you, rather than someone who would seek to control you. That is something that most women in your position would never have the privilege to experience. Alpheo values your counsel.

Don’t let nerves cloud your judgment; see the opportunity in front of you for what it truly is’’

Jasmine sat in silence, her mother’s words echoing in her mind like a gentle melody. Each sentence unfurled layers of thoughts and emotions that she had tried to suppress. The prospect of marrying him was daunting, yes, but perhaps it wasn’t as terrifying as she had initially believed. Rosalind’s reassurances wrapped around her like a comforting blanket, sparking a flicker of hope within her.

Yet, uncertainty still gnawed at her. She glanced down at her hands, fingers intertwined as she wrestled with her thoughts.

As she wrestled with her swirling emotions, she felt her mother’s gentle touch on her back. Rosalind stood up, her presence warm and comforting, patting Jasmine softly as if to ground her in that moment. ”Take your time to think it through, my love,” she said, her voice steady and soothing.

Jasmine nodded, the weight of her mother’s expectations settling heavily on her shoulders. Rosalind smiled, her expression a blend of encouragement and understanding. With a final glance back, she left the room, the soft rustle of her skirts fading away. Alone now, Jasmine took a deep breath, letting the silence envelop her.