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was still crying. She was scared of her own rage as much as she was afraid to confront her inner most secret.

CHAPTER FOUR: EPICUREAN BLISS

The week prior to June 4th of 1422

The enemy had been gone for just over a week when Prince Steven and Princess Belinda again began discussing Belinda’s fear of Nina Ray. Steven’s future wife was approachable again, but the only reason why Belinda still was thinking about the obvious was that she was searching Lucinda’s old boxes in the attic for any scrap of information about Nina. It had not been until this winter of 1421-22 that she found out that these boxes existed. Her first question had, of course, been why her father hadn’t burnt them. He answered surprisingly matter-of-factly that Lucinda had burned an old curse into his mind two years before her exile. If she ever left Iuventus, she had said, her things were to be stored in boxes in the attic and not burned. Otherwise a plague would ravage the country. He hadn’t taken it seriously, but none the less he’d never thrown away or burned the papers. Nina was gone and all they had were these various boxes.
The eight remaining sessions over the course of two weeks with Nina Ray brought them the following information, most of which came on the two last sessions: Yes, she had been a messenger, a forest gypsy. She was one of two hundred that rode around Medatlantia and attacked everything from city halls to delivery wagons. All of the messengers were indeed women. They had been assigned by the queen herself to attack specially localized points. Very few individuals knew whom the queen was working with, or who gave her the instructions. Belinda had also literally beaten the following information out of Nina: the forest queen had been reluctant to take on the task. But Nina Ray, in her last statement, claimed that it most probably was Adnicul himself out to weaken the coalition of the Medatlantian Merger, simply because he was not part of it. Nina’s opinion was that there was someone behind Adnicul who controlled the whole project.
She was afraid it was bait or that it at least didn’t matter what she said or not, because Nocturania was planning something much bigger than this for the future. But what? Old Senator Cretan, who was a little in love with Belinda, was shocked at Belinda’s extreme hatred during the interrogation. Coming face-to-face with a person that Lucinda had dubbed “the starting point of an apocalypse” back when Belinda had been just a girl of ten had awoken old demons in her. Once again, she was back at the steel table chained to the spikes of nightmarish scenarios. At times she could feel pains in her back from having been strapped to that thing for so long. And all the while her aunt telling her that one day a woman would arrive that would kick off the intrigue. Her name would be Nina Ray.
The reaction was logical. I am obsessed with killing you was Belinda’s last line to Nina before leaving the inquisition room and never seeing her again. But Alexander went the other way.
Always the diplomat and the politician, he tried to calm her down and Alexander decided never to go near the woman whom his sister had cold-bloodedly thrown in his daughter’s face. Sieglinde prayed. But she disliked that her husband and child actually had a secret war going on over a messenger that obviously was a political argument.
Nina was transferred to the military camp north of Clurafar to eventually be taken to the lower dungeons of Ridar. On the 28th of May, after the last hearing that same Monday morning, she had left the inner city, ridiculed by the masses. She was to spend her life eating rotten bread and drinking muddy water, which the crowd had spat. Her formerly rather sexually entrancing face was now so scarred that any trace of beauty had to be researched with a magnifying glass to detect humanity. There were blisters everywhere. Most of them had been Belinda’s doing.
Just two days later, on the 30th, Nina was transferred under heavy protection with twenty guards surrounding the prison wagon. What happened next was a mystery that both father and daughter tried to solve in vain for days since the occurrence. Theo had been there, assigned to ride with them for the first ten miles. Shortly before dusk when they were to stop at a prison camp for a nights rest, about thirty female riders came from nowhere and crisscrossed the road with such vigour that all the soldiers were taken by surprise. Before everyone knew it, a war was on the loose. A half hour later, Nina was riding on someone else’s horse and disappearing into the night, never to be seen alive again.
There had been no trace of her since. Scouts all over the country went searching for her and Belinda. The entire family knew that Nina was probably back in Nocturania in the labyrinthine Callenia serving the queen. Or so they thought. After Nina’s disappearance, something strange happened to Belinda.
Alexander had been preoccupied with the worries and angers of his daughter, but now he was worried over Belinda not wanting to talk about the woman at all, pretending that everything was all right. Steven had a talk with her and all she ever said was that if “Nina didn’t show herself before the end of August then she was to be forgotten forever“. But what she didn’t tell anyone was that she was searching the attic for even a scrap of information about Nina and her professed starting of the fall of Prosperania. Alexander had been told about this many years ago, but Belinda had been so young back then that it was hardly taken that seriously. Belinda was smart even then, but the fears of ten-year-old girl were not encouraged.
Belinda woke up in cold sweat, suspected Steven’s every move, even gone so far as calling off the important speech with Morgana. Now when Nina had arrived her worries seemed to disintegrate. She was sleeping well, Steven was faithful and the few times that he kissed Morgana on the cheek it didn’t bother her at all. The only thing that did was in secret having to search the “forbidden” wooden boxes that had been there in the attic since 1392. There were about thirty of them painted red, grey and gold that contained Lucinda’s old belongings. She found black magic books and pendulums, perverse Mongolian erotic descriptions of gourmet cooking containing all sorts of hogwash, but nothing about Nina at all.

Thursday Afternoon, June 4th, 1422 A.D.

A June-afternoon drenched in sunshine and almost everyone was wearing light colours. There was light blue and light pink, there was light green and light yellow and even white. All these light colours against the blue sky and the green grass gave the whole affair an air of springtime. There was food, wine along with bread and meat. There were grapes and other fruit. There was laughter, song and conversation. Bantrard was sitting next to some girls and singing. They were looking up at his muscular frame emoting the lute with utmost admiration. Yes, this was a bright summer day. One could see all the roads and the gardens, the palace along with the entry gate into the palace. One could see the road that led into town. All in all, for a spring picnic with a remarkable view this was the ideal place. Around fifty people had joined in on the picnic that day. Mrs. Johnstone was running around taking care of counts and princes and granddaughters and most people were seated on blankets in little groups on the high eastern hill of Iuventus Sacrum, the very best view anywhere of the royal grounds.
From here one could see the seven guest–houses (all named by Queen Lucia after flowers,) as well as the lake and waterfall, the sunflower and poppy-fields and the Winsletenna's favourite oak tree where practically every Winsletennian couple's initials were carved. "The romantic tree“, it was also called. It had been Belinda's favourite place as a child. The two girls were getting a wee-bit tipsy, but Belinda wasn't as giddy as Morgana. Morgana, for once, had no man next to her. But she was on the lookout. Her voluptuous cleavage had been heaved up from underneath within her light-blue and white-laced spring dress to look extra luscious and a lock of her brown hair had been strategically placed across her right breast. She had been very beautifully made up by Patricia and was wearing a lovely hat that she had made for herself with a blue bow and a white flower. She was holding a light-green glass with half-sweet dark-red wine from the Palace Vineyards.
The girls had been talking about their father and how handsome he looked in that red robe and how happy he was when he could talk of old times. Morgana was always more than willing to compliment her father on his looks and personality. Unfortunately, Alexander never gave her that back. He felt she was way too provocative toward him. He disliked her lifestyle. But Morgana loved her daddy just the same. Nonetheless, there was a silence now between the girls that spoke volumes as they watched people and drank wine. Belinda's eyes turned to the couple furthest away from the group toward the steeping of the hill down to the royal grounds. It was the Neapelonian Countess Margurit Durbervilla, a forty-year old emancipated self-claimed man hunter, with her newest discovery, a dark-haired young late-teen named Theophilodore. They had been kissing for an hour now without interruption.
"Amazing, isn't it?" Belinda said. "Their lips must be numb!"
Morgana giggled. "I like watching them. I wish I were her. He is gorgeous."
“Theophilodore! What a name!”
Belinda looked over at her sister sideways with a look of mischief.
"You are incorrigible. Don't you ever think of anything else? Haven't you thought of one day settling down with one man? Just being monogamous like Steven and me? “
“I have Richard.” Morgana took a sip of her wine and hiccupped, a drop of wine protruding from her lips. She dried it off with the back of her hand and leaned forward and looked her sister in the eye, half-smiling. As if her last comment mattered nothing at all, she continued. “I love him, but he knows that I would never be able to just have just one man. If one man can hold me down for the rest of my life he better be really interesting."
Belinda nodded, smiling. "Yes, I gather. Well, I hope you experience true love one day, Morgy." She looked to her Steven and smiled. Morgana looked at her sister and felt compassion for her and how deeply in love she was.
"You're really in love, aren't you?”
Belinda looked at her sister. “Yes, I am. Morgana? I don’t believe in arranged marriages. None of us do. When we marry, we marry out of love. What I am trying to say is that arranging a marriage is almost as heartless as not committing yourself at all.” Belinda sighed.
Morgana looked away. Belinda waited for some reaction, something that showed her that her compassion was genuine. “Morgy …”
“Mmh?” Morgana said coolly without moving, looking at Patricia flirting with Richard.
“Are you sleeping with my husband?”
Morgana looked at Belinda, giving her a look that might’ve turned a volcano to ice.
She opened her mouth, closed it again, and thought for a moment. Then she spoke, “What are you implying?”
“What I said, I mean. Are you sleeping with my husband? Veretrum futui culpa?”
“No.” Morgy answered. “No, I’m not. I never have. Why do you think
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