To Love, Once Again

A pudgy hand, warm and sticky with tears, squeezes her hand as Sera and Leo walk back to the cottage, holding hands.

This was the first time Sera had held hands with a child, and his soft palm and chubby fingers were adorable, so small in her own petite hands. Leo would look up at Sera from time to time as they made their way out of the garden, and smile, showing his small pearly baby teeth.

Somehow, they had stumbled upon a tea party of noblewomen. The sparkling gems that wink on their necks, vibrant hues of their dresses, and hats crafted with impeccable artistic sense matches to the trimmed perfection of the garden surrounding them.

"Wow, look at the mistress, trying to worm her way back into the King's good graces"

Was Sera the one trying to worm her way into Lucien's good graces?

The girl who spoke titters, her breasts pushed so up and out with a corset that they looked to pop like balloons at any moment. Each one of the noble ladies were decked out in their best tea clothes. It was clear they were waiting for a certain someone to come upon them during a stroll in the gardens.

Of course, everyone would want to catch the King's eye. The prestige and power that came with it had been the source of many a secret assassination and underhanded dealings under the table.

In comparison to these girls, it came as no surprise that Sera looked a mess.

The rose bush had torn at her white clothes, small branches and leaves still caught in her hair and skirts. Sera's arms were faintly dotted with red marks, from where the thorns had pierced her.

"That's the King's mistress?"

Fluttering her fanciful lace fan, a young noblewoman whispers to another in disgust.

"Look at her. If she hadn't been the Summoned one, King Lucien would've never married her"

"Then that would mea... that's the prince?"

"Those clothes are much too simple to belong to the Prince. Perhaps it's her love child with another servant" Another girl raises her eyebrow, eliciting shocked gasps and laughter from her cohorts.

It's improper for a noble to arise from their seat without a servant's escort, so the women crane their necks, trying to get a glimpse of Leo, who sits kicking his legs out on the white stone bench, ignoring them. He didn't care about some other ladies. The ones who looked the prettiest were scary to him, with their thick perfume and red smiles. He preferred people like Bea and his Mama(though Mama did dress like those ladies sometimes, it looked good on her, she looked good in anything), who showered wonderful hugs and kisses on Leo that made his heart feel warm.

All the women seated there were young, but unknown faces to Sera. These were the girls that debuted in the 5 years she'd been gone. For them to be here, having tea in the Royal Gardens, was an honor. An honor that the select few invited by the high-class noblewomen who were close with Lucien's late mother had.

"Wait here" Crouching down to bring herself to eye-level with Leo, she strokes his soft cheek and sits him on a nearby bench, one of the many that dot the Royal Garden for visitors.

"Greetings to my ladies." Sera gives a simple servant's curtsey.

One of the debutantes almost tilt her head in acknowledgment of Sera's greeting until her friend holds her by the arm and gives it a slight shake.

A finger covered by white lace gloves points to where a fork laid on the white cobblestone ground. The finger belonged to a golden haired, green eyed beautiful woman, her face artfully enhanced with makeup, her carefully chosen hat and dress matching perfectly with her green eyes.

"Be a dear and help me pick it up." Lacquered red lips curl into a smile.

"Lady Amelia, that..that woman is the King's Mistress, if the King hears word of this.." Having worked up the courage to speak, a girl with bland features, wearing a soft pink dress, twists her handkerchief.

Lady Amelia..It was a beautiful name that matched its owner in the green dress perfectly.

"It's only a fork. It would be dangerous if one of us were to step on it by accident, wouldn't it, Lady Damar" Lady Amelia turns a sharp gaze onto the girl, who withers under the pressure.

"Yes, Lady Amelia..." The younger girl responds, soft yellow ringlets shaking as she stares down at her lap.

Something warm flows over her shoulder and seeps into the bodice of her dress, staining the white muslin fabric brown.

"Oh dear, how clumsy of me! I've spilled some tea by accident"

Lady Amelia's mouth forms into an o, a caricature of surprise.

A little blur runs forward, yelling at the noble girls, while Sera grabs at Leo's shirt, keeping him from jumping onto Lady Amelia.

"Don't hurt Mama!!" Fists pummeling forward, trying to reach the seated noblewomen, Leo's small face grows red with anger, snot dripping down his nose with the extreme emotion.

"Now ladies, this is why the King locked the little Prince away. Look at it, like an animal, isn't it" Lady Amelia takes a scent sachet out of her pouch and sniffs it, looking upon Sera and Leo in disgust.

Like Sera and Leo were the animals.

Cleaning her fingers with a white handkerchief, Lady Amelia goes on: "I don't think the King would mind. After all, his betrothed should take more importance than a mere mistress"

This? This was his fiancé!?

Lucien could do so much better.

Jealousy and anger tumble and feed into each other within Sera's breast, creating a chemical reaction that makes each grow and distort into terrifying monsters that go berserk, looking for a way to escape.

So this was the girl that Lucien would kiss and hold. The girl he would smile at each morning. The girl who would bear him children. The girl he would escort at his side as his Queen.

The anger within Sera was rising to the boiling point. Sera didn't want to deal with this. This was one of the reasons why she left, the constant pressure and bullying among the noblewomen who had nothing else better to do. And she had to deal with this woman as Lucien's fiancé too!

One voice in her head tells her she should accept it. It was another facet of her return here. Sera had taken all of the abuse before, never telling Lucien about it because she didn't want to worry him when he was hounded enough by his daily duties as the new King.

Sera decided she wasn't going to take it anymore. If she let her past as Queen and identity as a servant limit her actions, she would be bowing and scraping to Lady Amelia, as the outdated system set in place here in Thornmere dictated.

As a mistress, she was no longer bound by the same rules and principles that dictated her every move as a contract Queen.

At the same time, things were different in that she had also become a mother. Her actions here would affect little Leo's decisions in the future.

Closing her eyes and breathing deeply, she ignores the clothes that stick to her skin, wet with tea.

Holding her child in her arms, Sera steps back, away from the noblewomen who watch the proceedings between her and Lady Amelia with great interest. Though there was nothing more satisfying than throwing a drink in Lady Amelia's face, her son was watching. This problem had to be solved with wits, not brute force, or else her son would grow up with the same habit of solving problems with force, just like his father.

Lucien's gruff and brash attitude hadn't helped in their fights before Sera had left.

Sera draws herself to stand up tall, in the posture that had been ingrained in her during her time as Queen, when the weighty responsibility of ruling a people had been her job. With a clear and confident voice, she speaks. "Who are you to treat me this way?"

"W-What?" Lady Amelia's beautiful face frowns in confusion. She wasn't expecting a mere mistress to act like, like this!

The other woman are struck silent. The moment she'd spoken, a heavy pressure had descended upon the group. Unconsciously, Sera had summoned a regal presence in their midst. They were in the presence of a Queen.

It didn't matter if her clothes were torn and stained with blood and tea. Her brown eyes, shimmering in a golden hue, seemed to make their very souls bare, each of her words carrying their own weight that echoed into the depths of their minds.

It didn't matter that there was no crown on her head. Sera's head was held high, a righteous anger burning in her eyes, knowing she'd done nothing wrong. The young noblewomen who'd never interacted with her before could feel their hearts shake, their noble blood that flowed through their veins awakening, telling them to bow before her, submit themselves to her.

Once a Queen, always a Queen.

"Shame on you, for attacking a small child with your words" Sera shakes her head at Lady Amelia, whose confidence seems to have dissipated like mist, looking upon her in awe.

"You're a woman, and I'm a woman. Why do we have to hurt each other like this?" One hand holding her son, who stares at his mother with pride, she gestures out to the group of women. Some women can't help but part their lips in awe.

"Can't you see? We're nothing but chess pieces in the struggle for power. Us women need to stick together, not attack each other!"

"Preposterous!" A voice exclaims.

Thud! The sound of a cane meeting the ground in anger breaks the spell that Sera had woven around the garden.

"Kneel!" A woman's voice echoes around the garden, indignant.

Lady Amelia bows her head in deference "Mother.."

Sera hadn't noticed the older woman sitting at the head of the table, wearing a large hat bedecked with blooms of every possible color of blue, a silver cane in one hand.

At the head of the delicate iron-wrought tea table, the hat tilts as the woman looks up and focuses one eye on her.

It was Dame Gertrude, closest friend of the late Queen, whose husband was a former advisor to the previous King. It was no stretch to say that she was one of the most powerful people among the nobles in Thornmere, where power had been shared between the nobles, magicians, and the King. She alone held the key to the late Queen's heart, and it was rumored that she controlled the politics of Thornmere through her manipulations using her husband's position as the King's Hand.

"We meet again, Dame Gertrude"

Sera nods her head at her. She didn't feel like curtseying anymore.

That bridge had been crossed and burned.