A girl was looking out the window. The wind carried the faint fragrant of beautiful flowers as they danced together in the gentle breeze, while the sunlight caressed her pale skin like a fleeting touch. Maids ran around, hurrying to set the table for an event. Lanterns strung between tree swung gently. Though, the scenery was beautiful. It was also unbearably boring. Ellie had seen it all too many times. The castle had been fascinating at first, but after four years of living here, it had lost its charm. She had explored every hallway, every corner, and every passage within the walls that encompassed it.
Ellie's fingers drummed against the wooden table in even rhythm. Every tick of the grand clock felt like a nail being hammered into her skull. How many more hours would she have to endure this? All the time wasted on meaningless lessons, and scripted words? She longed for the scent of fresh soil, for the warmth of sunlight on her back as she worked the fields. But that life was gone.
Ever since moving here 4 years ago, her life had become confined to this garden and the surrounding wall. She was only allowed outside on special occasion. And even then, she was still under the watchful eyes of the Gennan House.
She missed her old life. She missed her friends, the forest, and working on the farm. Sometimes, a hunter would even let her gut the beast he hunted. Of course, that was always without her mother's knowledge.
It all suddenly changed the day a luxurious carriage, adorned with flags of an owl wearing a wooden diadem, arrived at her home. Ellie could still recall the look of panic on her mother's face, the way it was drained of color, the way she whispered hoarsely, "We need to leave. Now." And how she frantically tried to gather their belongings to make a run for it, only to be stopped by knights.
That was the day Ellie found out that she was a member of one of the six royal families.
Wait, no. What was the word that old hag used? Oh, right. Bastard. A child born out of wedlock. That old hag had seemed rather pleased since bastards couldn't challenge for the throne.
Her fingers turning white as she clenched the pencil she had absentmindedly picked up. She remembered how her mother had begged not to be separated from her, then begged even more not to have her married off.
Now, sitting by the window with her head propped on one hand, Ellie unclenched her fingers and dropped her pencil onto the table. Then she picked it up again, only to let it fall once more.
She repeated the motion over and over, letting the pencil clatter against the wood.
"Ellie, would you please focus?" Her private tutor snapped. Her eyes narrow, glinting with frustration, a muscle twitches near the corner of her smiling mouth.
Her grandmother had made her attend etiquette lessons, noble customs, and classes to turn her into the perfect marriage candidate. Ellie despised it all. Apparently, her grandmother was planning to legitimize her and then marry Ellie off to the child of her mother's former betrothed.
Digging further into it, Ellie found out that the Gennan's family was planning to challenge for the throne and needed to make as much alliances as possible with rich merchants, nobles with experience troops, and so on.
"Oh sorry, teacher. I was distracted by all the beautiful decoration for Methild's party tomorrow."
The tutor looked outside the window.
"It is beautiful. Though, you must not get distracted. There are still a lot of customs you must remember to entertain the Dwarph and Waterfolk representatives."
"Of course, teacher. I will do my best to welcome honorable guests attending the gathering."
'I lied.'
Ellie was seeing the tutor but her mind was else where.
After what felt like an eternity of torturous lectures, Ellie were finally free.
"Finally! I swear, I might go insane if I had to sit there for another hour," Ellie exclaimed, stretching her arms above her head as she exited the classroom.
"Let's go see Mom." A small smile tugged at the corner of Ellie's mouth.
'Who cares about the Dwarphs and Waterfolks' customs? I sure don't. You can go and greet them yourself, teach. I know I won't.'
Ellie hurried through the halls, making her way to the laundry room, located on the lowest floor, at the far east of the castle.Soon, her steps drowned out by the rhythmic splashing of water echoing through the space. The scent of damp fabric and soap grew stronger as she neared the laundry room.
Inside, her mother, Alea, hunched over a massive basin, scrubbing clothes by hand. She had blonde hair and emerald eyes like Ellie but her hair was messy, and her eyes had dark circles underneath them. Her hands, once strong and graceful, were now little more than skin and bone, thin and veined from the relentless work.
The sight made Ellie's chest tighten painfully.
'Just a little bit more, mom.'
"Mom," Ellie called out.
Alea turned, her weary face brightening with a soft, warm smile.
Ellie stepped forward. "Let me help you."
Before she could roll up her sleeves, her mother shook her head.
"No, you shouldn't dirty your hands with this. Your grandmother will get mad."
Ellie hesitated. If she misbehaved, she alone would be punished. But if she helped her mother, the old hag would make her mother suffer instead, punishing her to ensure she never sought help again.
Her grandmother treated Ellie like a delicate flower, something to be carefully cultivated. Helping in the laundry would be like that flower allowing a worm to eat its leaves, and her grandmother would make sure the worm paid the price.
But then, Alea spoke in a different language.
"I am joking. There is no one here. Come."
"Geh, Mom. You scared me," Ellie replied, using the same language.
"They are all busy with the party."
Ellie roll up her sleeves, dipping her hands into the the basin.
"How it is going, mom?"
"All is done, dear,"
Ellie's eyes flickered to the wall of the room where the laundry device stood.
It was an enormous, taking up the entire length of the room. Stairs led up to the top, where different hatch doors allowed for sorting clothes by color into different washing tanks. A sack of soap lay nearby, next to the compartment meant for detergent. Runes were carved into the stone surface of the machine. Even though Ellie couldn't read runes, she recognized some of the patterns—tree, wind, water, fire.
"I sanded off some of the runes and carved different ones, turning it into our escape pod," Alea said. "Thanks to that person messing with the washing device whenever I have to do the laundry, no one will come to check it."
"Tonight, we will make our escape. By the time they notice we are gone, the party will keep them too distracted to search for us."
Alea held up a handful of soap and blew on it, making the bubbles burst.
"And we will disappear."
***
At the center of the dining hall of the castle stood a long marble table, decorated with an extravagant feast: roasted spider boar, devil-scream mushroom stew, steamed lobster shark. Every dish was a rare delicacy.
Seated on both sides of the table were members of House Gennan. At the far end, Aila, Ellie's grandmother and the current matriarch, watched her intently. Ellie, however, paid no attention to her grandmother's gaze. Her focus was solely on the food. Who knew when she would ever get the chance to eat like this again after she ran away?
'Better stuff myself up for the long journey.' Ellie thought to herself, as she grabbed another plate of food.
Besides, it wasn't unusual for her to remain silent. In truth, she barely remembered a fifth of the names of the people dining at this table. She didn't want to talk to them, and they didn't want to talk to her. Ellie looked around the table, causing a few of her cousins to flick.
'They are both the wardens and the prisoners. Sad and pitiful, really.'
Many members of House Gennan lived in this castle, a result of the kingdom's political structure. There were six royal families, but only one king ruled at a time. In the event the reigning king died during their term, the title passed to their eldest heir.
The king's lineage reigned for one hundred and twenty years before relinquishing the throne to the next family in line. But until then, any house with the ambition and strength could stake their claim. However, if a member of a house challenged the current king and failed, then that house had to wait fifty years for another chance.
All members of the royal families carried the title Prince or Princess, as well as the right to the throne.
Now, imagine spending all your time and resources training a challenger, making countless compromises to secure alliances, only for some distant, insignificant prince or princess to lose, wasting your house's time and resources. That was why Ellie's mother was so hated in the eyes of many family members. She could have jeopardized years upon years of preparation.
A maid leaned in and whispered into Aila's ear.
The matriarch reached for a handheld runic device crafted from wood, a single green mana stone embered on the top. Inscribed on its surface were two tree runes, connected by a stone rune. The lower tree rune had two wind runes on its branches, while the upper one bore two wind runes and a fire rune.
Aila spoke into it, and the device amplified her voice, carrying her words across the grand dining hall.
"Attention."
The room fell silent. Even Ellie stopped eating.
Before she could process what was happening, maids guided her to stand beside her grandmother.
Her steps were heavy. She tried to keep her head up as she walked to the front of the table, but the weight of their gazes was too much. And she lowered her eyes slightly.
The room was deathly quiet. Her own measured breaths were the only sound she could hear. Finally, she stood to the left of her grandmother. She kept her gaze slightly to the left, avoiding her grandmother's eyes.
In her peripheral vision, she caught sight of a beautiful girl with light blue hair and striking blue eyes, a stark contrast against her porcelain skin. She was Methild Trisbella Gennan, the current wielder of the Crown of the Rooted Sky and House Gennan's champion. She was widely regarded as a genius, having formed a bond with a greater high-level tree spirit through the diadem.
Methild continued eating, but something about her was different. She, too, avoided Ellie's gaze. And in her eyes—pity? Sadness? She was like a passerby watching someone in need of help, yet choosing to walk away, leaving them to fate.
"I hereby legitimize this child. From this day forward, her name shall be Zelris Reybella Gennan."
Aila handed her a scroll, written in elven script. At the bottom, her new name was inscribed beneath a golden seal. Zelris Reybella Gennan. It felt both foreign and wrong. Whispers slithered through the dining hall like venomous snakes. Others merely continued eating, as if her legitimization was nothing more than a formality.
Ellie's mind raced. 'That was it? Legitimized over dinner? Where were my spirit items? Wait—no. It couldn't be—'
Her betrothed was here.
Before she could react, the maids gently but firmly ushered her away.
Her fingers twitched. Time was slipping away. Had her mother finished the final preparations?