Tragedy of Divinity

Chapter 30: A Bitter Morning at the Court of Flowers

The morning light filtered through the grand windows of their modest room in Eryndral, casting long shadows across the floor. For a brief moment, the day seemed calm. However, Seraphine could sense the storm that was brewing within Lucian.

Quintin, always the one to break the silence, was the first to speak. "Well, today's another day," he said, sitting up in his bed and stretching. "Maybe this time, things will be a little… easier?"

Lucian didn't respond, his expression as dark as the storm clouds that gathered overhead. Seraphine, ever observant, noted the tense line of his jaw and the stormy gleam in his eyes. Something was off—he was already on the edge.

"I wouldn't bet on it," Lucian muttered under his breath.

Before long, the message arrived. A messenger, his face as grave as ever, bowed before them.

"The Court of Flowers requests your presence at once. The Queen and Princess await you," he announced, his voice formal but strained.

Seraphine glanced at Lucian, her brow furrowing. She had learned that when Lucian's mood was like this, trouble was sure to follow. She sighed, resigned.

"Another court?" Quintin asked, rubbing his eyes. "Is it just me, or do they keep dragging us into their business?"

"They want something from us, Quintin," Seraphine replied softly. "They wouldn't keep calling if they didn't. We just need to play along."

Lucian shot her a look, his mouth twisting into a sarcastic grin. "Play along? That's what got us into this mess in the first place."

The Court of Flowers was no less majestic than the Royal Hall, if not more so. A sprawling garden filled with glowing flora, the petals of countless flowers sparkling like jewels in the soft light of the morning. The palace itself stood at the center, nestled in the heart of an enormous, carefully maintained grove, the air thick with the scent of blossoms and the hum of life. It was an almost serene place, yet Seraphine couldn't shake the feeling that it was just another cage.

As they entered the Court, the atmosphere shifted immediately. The elves, nobles, and dignitaries stood poised and expectant, as if waiting for a grand spectacle. Their gazes locked onto the trio with unrelenting intensity, their eyes filled with curiosity, judgment, and something far colder—disdain.

Lucian didn't seem to care. His steps were measured, but there was an undeniable edge in his demeanor. The tension between him and the elves in the room was palpable, as if they could feel the storm coming.

The Princess stood near the Queen, her usual composure unwavering, but there was something more coldly calculating in her stance today. The Queen, regal and composed, regarded the trio with a knowing look that made Seraphine uneasy.

"Ah, our guests," the Princess spoke, her voice smooth and cold, like the steel edge of a blade. "I trust you've had a restful evening?"

Lucian's gaze shot to her, his mouth curling into a grin that didn't reach his eyes. "Restful? For you, maybe," he sneered, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "But I'm sure you don't mind the game you've been playing with us."

The Princess tilted her head slightly, clearly amused by his defiance, but her eyes narrowed as if measuring him.

"You misunderstand, Lucian," she said, her voice maintaining that unsettling calm. "We are simply trying to understand why you're here. And what part you play in this strange world we inhabit."

Lucian's hands clenched into fists at his sides, but it was clear he was holding himself back, his rage simmering beneath the surface. Seraphine could feel the heat radiating off him, the crackling tension that threatened to burst into something worse.

"Cut the shit," Lucian spat, his voice low and dangerous. "I don't owe you anything, and I'm not here to play your little games. You want answers? Maybe you should look elsewhere."

The room fell deathly silent, all eyes on Lucian. The Queen's gaze hardened, and for the first time, Seraphine saw a flicker of annoyance in her calm exterior.

"You are in no position to make demands here, Lucian," the Queen said, her voice like ice. "You're a guest in our court, and we do not take kindly to such insolence."

Lucian didn't flinch. Instead, he took a step forward, his eyes never leaving the Queen's. "I don't care about your court, or your rules. I'm not playing by your standards. So, if you're just going to keep wasting my time, I'll make it clear now."

Before anyone could respond, Lucian raised his hand and, without a second thought, flipped the Princess the middle finger. The silence in the Court was absolute. Every noble, every elf in the room froze, their eyes wide with disbelief. Even Seraphine, normally unfazed by Lucian's outbursts, blinked in shock.

The Princess's face remained as cold as ever, but there was a subtle twitch at the corner of her mouth—a sign of restrained anger. The Queen, on the other hand, looked absolutely livid, her expression darkening with each passing second.

"You—" The Princess began, her voice sharp like a dagger, but Lucian cut her off with a harsh, mocking laugh.

"Fuck off, all of you," he said, his voice laced with venom. "I've had enough of this place, your games, and your fucking royal bullshit. If you think I'm here to play nice, you're sorely mistaken."

He turned abruptly, striding toward the exit without so much as a backward glance. The entire Court remained frozen, the air thick with the tension of what had just transpired.

Seraphine stood motionless for a moment, her gaze flicking between Lucian's retreating form and the stunned faces around her. She could feel the weight of their judgment, the palpable hatred in the air.

But in the end, it was the Queen who broke the silence, her voice as cold and commanding as ever. "Leave. Now."

It was an order, and Seraphine, knowing there was no point in protesting, turned and followed Lucian, Quintin trailing behind.

The moment they stepped outside, the tension that had filled the Court seemed to lift, though a heavy sense of foreboding replaced it.

Lucian's chest was heaving with anger, his face contorted into a mask of rage. "They think they can control me? They think they can play these games?" He muttered under his breath, his words barely audible but dripping with fury.

"Lucian," Seraphine said, her voice quiet but firm. "That was… reckless."

He spun around, his eyes blazing with frustration. "Reckless? They've been nothing but manipulative, and I've had enough of it. They can all go to hell for all I care."

"Next time, let's at least think before acting," Seraphine suggested, her tone gentle but persistent.

Lucian scoffed, his expression dark. "I don't care about their petty politics. And I don't care about their little games. Let's just get out of this place before they decide to throw us in a cell."

As the trio made their way through the elven city once more, the echoes of the confrontation still rang in their ears. Lucian's defiance had sparked a flame, one that was sure to burn bridges with the elves—if they hadn't already been burned.

But Seraphine knew this wasn't the end. Whatever lay ahead, they were in deeper than ever before.