They were finely set around the table like every other night. Two chairs were placed at its head and three at each side, though of the six only one was occupied. Miss Elmaria Brightsun boasted the beauty of her race by far and she knew it well; long now had it been whispered that she was of the Kingdom's rare gems, a reputation the youth was determined to live up to. Few were her years, not over nineteen, yet the curves of a fully grown woman had already blessed her, something she made certain to very poorly conceal beneath the coral silks that her person tended to favour. It was often said that her beauty was greater than that of her deceased sister, whose death had come valiantly in Dalaran by the Quel'dorei not long ago, or even that of her mother, something which pleased the girl grealy. Only she deserved to be remembered, courted, adored in the Thalassian Kingdom.
The noble house of Brightsun was not an ancient one, alas no one had dared doubt their power for several years. Niel'then Brightsun, along with his descendants for long had the reputation of ruthless individuals, though the line of such met an end with the rise of his grandson, Altharel, Elmaria's father. The last Magister Brightsun was said to have placed the sinister scheming of his ancestors behind, being a man of candour and efficiency. His first wedding with Limeane Silverblossom bore a son, though the child was born sickly and perished; days after, so did the mother, drowned in her sorrow. Matrimony came but a few months later with the second daughter of house Emberstorm, Vylera. Two daughters and a son came from that arranged union, though the eldest left her last breath in the city of the Kirin Tor and her brother and heir to the Brightsun legacy, in hopes of coping with the loss, sought battle in Silithus and the Barrens as soon as the first bells of war began to toll.
As for Vylera herself, her most thrilling asset, being her extraordinary appearance, had now come second to her daughter. They both shared the same ginger locks and possessed great symmetry in their features, but maturity could not defeat youth. Formerly miss Emberstorm, now Lady Brightsun, possessed no magical or melee talent, but exceptional skill in alchemy and a shrewd mind. If her husband had the name of a fair and calculative Magister, she could most definitely be thought as deadly. Her only flaw, however, was her lack of vision, something that luckily deemed Vylera Brightsun, in the end, rather harmless.
Their dinner had been served. Lynx appetizers offered with greens and delicious berry sauce, always accompanied by a glass of red, fruity wine from the vineyards of Eversong in the finest crystals. Servants had long scurried out of their sight, for it was known that the bluebloods could not digest their meals properly at the sight of disgusting commoners. Silence, during those evenings, was customary, though traditionally broken by one of the family members; it was always unknown who. That night, however, was unlike any others. Plans were on the way.
It was with her finest smiles that the youngest offspring of the Brightsun legacy lowered the cutlery and gently tapped the white napkin against her lips, though careful enough so not to remove the rose layer of glossy paint coating them. Pleased with herself, which was no rare occurance, the girl looked at Altharel.
"Father." she uttered gently with her thin voice. "How fare your dealings in the Spire?"
Suspicious by nature, Magister Brightsun offered but a glance to his daughter, knowing very well that it was only when her heart desired something that he would receive her wide smiles. There was no comment to betray his thoughts, however, only a sigh paired with his reply. "Matters remain as were."
"You cannot possibly be claiming your days to be uneventful, dearest father." said Elmaria in a mincing manner. "Why, I have heard that the persecutions against our kin continue still?"
"So they do." agreed the Magister calmly while carefully removing the bone from his meat, without raising his gaze anymore. "It is not, however, my concern, since my work stresses on other matters."
"Wrongfully so." added Vylera from across the room, frowning. Elmaria turned to her briefly, clinging to her mother's comment even if it received a glare from the husband.
"No, no, father. Do not look at mother like that for she is not mistaken. You ought truly turn your gaze to such cases, for what is more important to the Kingdom than our kin, even those whose loyalty is questioned? Surely, an individual such as yourself will be more suited for the task."
The mother's smirk widened upon hearing her daughter, though her husband only appeared to be growing more weary, still refusing to look at the two women who were tormenting him. At such moments, he missed his son and could not question his decision to bleed the Alliance dry, rather than endure his mother and youngest sister. "You speak as if you are aware of who are leading the investigations." he mumbled. "We show faith in those in charge of such dire matter."
"Actually, as a matter of fact, I do, father." cooed Elmaria in the most annoying manner, like every time she spoke. "Even if at least a part of it, which would be the most worrying. Surely, you are aware of Magistrix Whitestep, yes?"
It was with the greatest amusement that Elmaria watched Altharen pause and almost glare at her, for she was clearly not expected to be aware of as much as the name of Magistrix Whitestep. Little could her father know that the young noble's maid, that disgusting pale girl with the memorable white hair had whispered in Elmaria's ear all the vile details about the zealous Inquisitor. And many suitors had been promised to Elmaria if Whitestep fell; the Magister with the most wonderful smirk, or one of the two arcanists with the dark hair; the charming pyromancer whose hair was as red as the flames he wielded, the hooded apprentice with the luscious curls. Perhaps even the blonde Lord who was also a Knight again recently, or the wonderful artificer? Or even the swordsman with the brown hair and even the mysterious, hooded individual whom the Magistrix had dared harm? All these men whose favour Elmaria was certain she would win if the priestess was done without. And what if some of them did not hail from a proper bloodline? They would adore her still, her maid had implied it. Of course, this foolish, sickly girl would never learn what Elmaria had done - she would steal her glory!
"That I am." answered Magister Brightsun irritably, his eyes now on his daughter. "The question is how you are and why you would be interested in mentioning her name during our dinner."
"Everyone is talking about her, father!" Elmaria exaggerated with ease, rolling her eyes. "Of her cruel methods and how she is a disgrace to the Spire! Surely, this cannot come to pass, can it?"
"I admit that her methods are said to be somewhat questionable-"
"Questionable, Altharel?" Vylera chimed in with wide eyes. "Employ all the cruelty you like, but if it reaches the ears of the lesser, we stand at the precipice of destruction. The masses will rise against us."
"It is not-" he tried, but to no avail. Elmaria interrupted.
"And let us not mention how she is said to torture even those of noble blood. Are we not above suspicion?"
"Unacceptable!" exclaimed Vylera.
"Crippling them, mother." added the youngest daughter with a wide smile, having found a supporter in her cause. "Turning against loyal servants of the Kingdom with threats of banishment and physical harm in order to make a name for herself. This is certainly placing all at risk."
"Enough." the Magister called, but no one obeyed. Perhaps for the first time, in the Brightsun dinner table, there was chaos. Now Elmaria rose in the most dramatic she could, one several times before practiced in her private chambers, while looking at her father with disappointment and disgust alike.
"How could you, father?" she asked, feigning her pain and insult perfectly. Locks of ginger kept in an artistic ponytail that complimented the shade of her features now shivered at her display. "How could you allow such practices in our glorious Kingdom? Practices that harm us all as individuals? Is this what the Sin'dorei stand for? Are we not meant to be above the primitive barbarians that are our enemies and allies alike?"
"I do not mean- I did not know-"
"Then you will do something about it?" Elmaria asked, suddenly wearing her widest smile for once more. Altharel was many things, but he could never deny anything to his daughter when set under such pressure.
"I will speak to my contacts regarding the matter." he promised, collecting with relief his daughter's joy. Elmaria paced towards him happily to place a peck on his cheek. He was left with a glossy stain of rose.
"Why thank you, father! Thank you, thank you!" she screeched in a childish manner before turning around, flipping her magnificent hair behind her shoulder. "I ask to be excused now. I must prepare myself for Lady Riverbright's reception and I only have one hour for it."
Her parents excused her indeed with a nod of her head; the young noble's heels clicked as she stepped out of the large dining room with the crystals hanging above the table, leaving her mother with a smile of triumph on her lips and her father fatigued, troubled, and bound to his promise. Eagerly and, naturally pleased with herself, as always, Miss Elmaria Brightsun, the youngest daughter of the Brightsun noble family, made her way to her room, in order to prepare herself for a night of dancing and bickering at Lady Riverbright's reception.
How much harm could she bring to Magistrix Whitestep if she whispered to the right ears at the festivity awaiting her? She was eager to know, dreaming like the young girl she was, all the suitors that would be on their knees for her by the end of the week.
Comments