Chapter 4 SEED OF ENVY

“Enough" King Jeremy thundered. "We are not enemies seated at this table but witnesses to a new era.”

He looked at Athalia.

“Princess, your words hold truth. Peace demands humility from all parties.”

Then he looked at Varren.

“And pride must not blind us.”

Varren bowed reluctantly. “As you wish, Your Majesty.”

The meeting adjourned, but tension lingered in the air.

Outside the chamber, Adrain turned to Athalia. “You handled yourself perfectly."

She sighed. “I didn’t mean to anger them.”

“Sometimes anger is the first step to understanding,” he replied. "It feels overwhelming sometimes but will get easier.”

“I hope so,” she murmured. “I want to earn their trust, not only because I am your future wife, but because I care about this kingdom.”

Adrain smiled. “You already have my trust.”

She laughed softly. “Your trust is the easiest to earn.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.” He said, smiling.

Afterwards, the King of Seatopia fell I'll and died and mourning fell upon both kingdoms. Out of respect, King Jeremy and his family traveled to the coronation of the new ruler, King Alden, brother to Athalia and Emelia.

The palace of Seatopia was an architectural masterpiece carved from white stone and pearl inlay. Sunlight from the sea reflected upon its polished floors, casting shimmering patterns that danced on the walls like water itself.

Princess Athalia and Princess Emelia stood at the entrance of the grand hall, each dressed in ceremonial attire that reflected their roles. Athalia’s gown was sapphire, structured and regal, while Emelia’s was pale silver, flowing and soft as mist.

When the Arrandelle royal family approached, Athalia bowed with perfect precision.

“Welcome,” she said, her voice steady. “Your presence honors our brother’s coronation.”

Queen Elizabeth offered a gentle smile. “It is our duty and our fondness that brings us.”

Eric stepped toward Emelia, his expression softening. “You look well,” he said quietly.

Emelia lowered her gaze, though a faint warmth reached her cheeks. “And you, Your Highness.”

Athalia noticed the exchange, though her face portrayed nothing. Her gaze drifted instead to Adrian, who observed her with a calm courtesy.

“Your Highness,” Adrian greeted.

“Prince Adrian,” she replied with a slight nod. “I trust the journey was smooth.”

“Smooth,” he confirmed, “and swift.”

Their exchange was brief, formal, and careful.

"Princess Athalia"

She heard a whisper. Lady Marrienne called to her..

'Excuse me." she said and left.

The coronation commenced with grandeur.

It was a spectacle of color and sound. Banners embroidered in gold draped the great hall. Crystal chandeliers refracted sunlight into prisms that danced across polished floors. Music from strings and flutes filled the air as nobles gathered from lands near and far.

It was within this brilliance that Athalia stood watching her younger sister move through the crowd.

Emelia greeted diplomats with a quiet grace that seemed effortless. Compliments followed her like a soft breeze as men bowed and women whispered.

Queen Elizabeth watched with fondness. “What a gentle soul Emelia is,” she said warmly.

Athalia’s fingers tightened around her goblet.

She did not notice Prince Adrian approach until he stood beside her, speaking low enough for only her to hear.

“Do you hate her?” he asked.

Athalia turned sharply. “What sort of question is that?”

“One based on observation,” Adrian replied, gaze steady. “Your expression shifts whenever she enters the room. There is envy in it.”

Athalia’s breath caught. For a moment, she studied his face, unsure whether he mocked her or understood her. But something in Adrian’s gaze looked painfully familiar.

You presume much,” she said quietly.

He huffed a humorless laugh. “I recognize the feeling too well.”

She glanced up. “What do you mean?”

Adrian’s lips tightened. “I am the elder yet Eric has a gift for winning hearts while I have… other talents. One day, they may not matter just as much as his.”

Athalia observed him more closely. The crown prince seemed composed as always, yet beneath that calm lay something she recognized all too well: the ache of being second in the eyes of many.

Athalia’s expression softened. “That feeling,” she admitted. “Of watching someone you admire, or someone you should surpass, draw all attention to themselves… it is… difficult.”

For a moment, neither spoke. Around them, nobles murmured softly, servants moved quickly, and the chandeliers scattered light across the polished floor. Yet for Adrian and Athalia, the room had become still.

Later, the coronation began.

Musicians played soft melodies on violins, harps as their notes were delicate and precise, fitting the gravity of the occasion. The air was heavy with incense and formality, every word spoken and every movement weighed with importance.

King Alden, newly crowned, stood tall at the center of the hall. His robe was embroidered with a silver wave surrounding a pearl as a symbol of Seatopia’s strength and beauty. His expression was calm, though with a faint shadow of grief lingering behind his eyes.

He raised his hands slightly, and the assembly grew silent.

“Seatopia stands unbroken,” King Alden said, his voice sounded through the hall. “Though sorrow touches our hearts, we rise together, in loyalty and strength.”

Applause followed, restrained but sincere.

As the ceremony continued, Athalia continued observing her sister with a steady and careful gaze. Every gesture of Emelia’s seemed to shine brighter simply because she existed.

Adrian, standing nearby, noticed Athalia’s tension. “It is remarkable, how the world adores her,” he said quietly.

Athalia did not answer at first. She was too aware of the feeling in her chest and the mixture of admiration and resentment. “Yes,” she said finally. “It seems no one can help it.”

Adrian’s eyes softened. “Do you know that strength lies not only in charm? If not i would have been much loved than my brother.”

Athalia considered his words. “Perhaps. But sometimes, it is hard to know what matters most.”

The feast that followed was a quiet display of elegance and ritual. Servants carried trays of food through the hall, and the nobles spoke in careful tones. Eric remained near Emelia, leaning slightly toward her as they exchanged quiet words.

His attention on her was effortless, natural, and impossible to ignore. Adrian watched silently as the younger prince smiled, laughed, and charmed everyone around him without trying. He looked away quickly and hide the tightness in his chest.

It was the beginning of envy building up in two siblings.