Chapter 69: The Gifted’s Game

Chapter 69

SMACK!

Maria’s head snapped to the side, her cheek stinging violently as the sharp impact echoed through the opulent reception room. Her eyes widened in utter shock, quickly welling with forced tears as she pressed a trembling hand against her burning skin. Standing before her, Queen Evelyn’s face was contorted in absolute fury, her expensive silk sleeves shaking with rage. "What manner of utterly brainless imbecile are you?" the Queen barked, her voice dripping with venom. "I personally secured the finest dance instructors in the capital to prepare you for last night, yet you arrogantly refused them, insisting you possessed the grace to dance! And what monstrosity did I witness you attempt upon the floor? You looked like a tethered swine! Not only did you display your total incompetence, but you allowed that wretched sister of yours and her barbaric husband to completely overshadow the royal house!"

Despite the throbbing pain in her cheek, Maria’s mind seized upon the Queen’s words with intense curiosity. She caught the deep, bitter hatred laced within the Queen’s tone whenever Sigrid was mentioned. What could my foolish step-sister have possibly done to make the Queen speak of her with such profound bitterness? Maria wondered silently. Or is this pure hatred birthed entirely from Sigrid’s marriage to that formidable Northern Duke?

Queen Catherine began pacing back and forth across the polished marble floor, her heavy jewel-encrusted skirts sweeping aggressively against the ground. "Every single noble family in the capital is gossiping! They speak of nothing but how marvelous and commanding that wretched Northern Duke appeared, when he is nothing more than a glorified brute!"

Maria observed the Queen’s restless pacing, silently noting how deeply the royal family feared Soren’s growing influence. "I knew you were a common girl lacking refinement, Maria, but I never anticipated such total humiliation!" Catherine continued, her voice rising to a shrill pitch. "Ragnar was made a complete laughingstock because of your clumsy display! You are meant to be the future Crown Princess, yet you have dragged our house through the dirt!"

Maria swallowed hard, her mind racing. In the fragmented visions granted to her by her divine gift, she had never seen Sigrid perform such a mesmerizing dance; her sister had always been a quiet, brooding shadow in what she saw. Suppressing her inner rage, Maria forced her body to tremble, dropping her shoulders and allowing tears to spill freely down her cheeks in a pitiful display of remorse.

"I beg for your forgiveness, Your Majesty," Maria sobbed softly, her voice trembling with practiced frailty. "It was never my intention to bring disgrace upon the crown or my beloved Prince. Because I was not born of high noble blood, my sister Sigrid always despised me. She strictly forbade me from taking proper dance lessons at our estate and treated me with such cruelty that I was forced to practice in secret. I foolishly believed my meager skills would be enough to honor the royal house."

Queen Catherine ceased her pacing, letting out a long, disgusted sigh as she looked down at the weeping girl. "You remain a pathetic fool," Catherine sneered, though the sharp edge of her anger softened slightly at the mention of Sigrid’s cruelty. The Queen turned toward a waiting lady-in-waiting, shouting imperiously, "You there! Go gather the morning gazettes at once! I must see the extent of the damage." Turning back to Maria, Catherine pointed a scolding finger at her face. "You shall undergo rigorous etiquette and dance lessons starting this very afternoon. Now remove yourself from my sight, you useless creature!"

The moment Queen Catherine turned her back and swept out of the reception hall, the pitiful mask fell from Maria’s face. Her tear-streaked eyes hardened into a bitter, venomous scowl as she wiped her cheek with the back of her sleeve. You arrogant, old hag, Maria cursed internally, watching the grand doors slam shut. Insulting me simply because I was not born with a high title! When I become Queen of this empire, I shall see to it that you are cast into the lowest estate, and we will finally see who the real imbecile is.

Simmering with suppressed rage, Maria straightened her posture and began the long walk back toward the private royal wing. She reached the grand carved doors of the quarters she shared with Prince Ragnar, taking a moment to adjust her hair and adopt a timid, heartbroken expression before pushing the heavy oak doors open.

Stepping into the luxurious bedchamber, Maria spotted Ragnar immediately. The Prince was pacing near the arched windows, his hands clenched into tight fists behind his back and a dark, dangerous scowling plaguing his features. The sight of his raw anger reminded her instantly of the disaster at the ball, making her realize just how deeply she had wounded his fragile ego. Putting on her softest, most vulnerable persona, Maria took a hesitant step forward. "Ragnar... my love..." she murmured mournfully, extending a gentle hand to touch his embroidered sleeve. The moment her fingers brushed his arm, Ragnar violently shoved her hand away, his chest heaving with deep, ragged breaths. "Ragnar, please..." she whimpered, trying once more to reach for his waist. Without turning his head, Ragnar threw his arm back with force, sending Maria stumbling backward until she fell onto the hard wooden floor with a sharp gasp.

Maria lay upon the floor, her heart pounding with a mixture of shock and fury. In all the days she had spent enchanting the Prince, he had never laid a hand on her or shown such unbridled anger. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to force fresh tears to her eyes, but Ragnar did not even look down at her. He continued pacing frantically around the wide room, his jaw clenched tight. "How could you embarrass me like that?" Ragnar spat, his voice trembling with humiliated rage. "In front of the entire court! In front of that Northern brute! What in the name of the heavens were you thinking out there upon the floor?"

Recognizing that her usual tears were not working, Maria quickly scrambled to her feet, clutching her bruised arm and assuming a look of profound, heart-wrenching agony. "I did not mean to, my Prince! It was never my intention to bring shame upon you!"

Ragnar whirled around, glaring at her with dark, bloodshot eyes. "Then what was your intention? To make me look like a weak, foolish prince who chose a clumsy peasant over a proper Duchess?"

Maria shook her head frantically, stepping closer to him with an expression of pure innocence. "No, my love! I swear it! It is all Sigrid’s doing! Because I was not born of noble blood, my sister was always so desperately cruel to me. She refused to let me learn proper etiquette, constantly beating me, kicking me, and bullying me in secret because she believed I was stealing her rightful place! She forced me to wear rags while she took everything of value, and she deliberately sabotaged my standing so I would fail before the court!" As Maria spun her web of lies, she watched closely as the intense fury in Ragnar’s eyes slowly shifted from disgust toward her into a burning, defensive rage directed elsewhere.

"That treacherous fiend..." Ragnar growled, his hands clenching into white-knuckled fists as his pride found a new target. "How dare she treat my future bride with such absolute cruelty! Who does that arrogant woman think she is?" He looked at Maria, his posture softening as he pulled her gently into his chest. "And you still refer to that monster as your sister after all the suffering she inflicted upon you?"

Maria rested her head against his shoulder, letting out a soft, trembling sigh. "I cannot help but feel pity for her, Ragnar... especially since her mother passed away. But her arrogance has grown beyond measure. That day, when she refused your royal invitation to dance, she spoke of you as if you were beneath her."

Ragnar’s eyes widened with fresh outrage, his grip on Maria tightening. "Declining a royal decree from the crown prince... How dare she speak to royalty in such a manner! Who does she think she is? To compare me to that brute Soren—as if a disgraced Northern savage could ever match the power and birthright of the future Emperor! I am the blood of the crown, and I shall rule over both of them before this year ends!"

Maria looked up at him with wide, idolizing eyes, stroking his chest soothingly. "I was so confused when she turned down your royal favor, my Prince... She spoke as though you were beneath her notice."

"She will crawl on her knees before me before the end," Ragnar vowed darkly, his pride somewhat restored by Maria’s worshipful tone.

Maria smiled secretively into his chest, her manipulation taking firm root in his mind. "Do not dwell on my foolish sister. However... I feel I must warn you. Yesterday, while walking near the gardens, I witnessed Sigrid meeting secretly with Count Leopold Varenne."

At the mention of the name, Ragnar went completely rigid, pulling back to stare at Maria with wide, shocked eyes. "Count Varenne? My royal spies have been gathering intelligence on that parasite for weeks! He is deeply buried in illegal debts and suspected of dark dealings!"

Maria gasped loudly, pressing a hand over her lips in dramatic horror. "Oh no! What could my sister possibly be orchestrating with a man of such ill repute?"

Ragnar’s expression hardened into a grim, calculating scowl. "I do not know, but I intend to find out immediately. If she is conspiring with traitors, I will use it to crush both her and her husband for their insolence." Ragnar leaned down, pressing a quick, hurried kiss to Maria’s cheek. "Forgive me for pushing you earlier, my sweet. I must handle this at once."

"It is already forgiven, my prince," Maria replied sweetly, watching with satisfaction as Ragnar rushed out of the chamber to summon his guards. The moment the heavy doors clicked shut, Maria’s sweet smile twisted into a hysterical, triumphant laugh.

Left entirely alone in the massive chamber, the pitiful, injured posture vanished from Maria’s spine instantly. She stood up straight, smoothing down her silk skirts before walking over to the grand mahogany vanity mirror. Looking at her bruised cheek and the sharp glint in her own eyes, a low, bubbling laugh began to rise from her chest, escalating into a wild, hysterical giggle that echoed off the high walls.

"My sweet, stupid sister," Maria whispered to her reflection, her voice dripping with malicious glee. "You have no idea what is coming for you. You are not Gifted like I am; you cannot see the scattered threads of the future that the heavens have bestowed upon me. You think you are clever, but I know every weakness you possessed in the visions!"

Maria raised her hand, tracing the glass of the mirror right over her reflection’s eyes. In her visions, she had seen Sigrid crowned as Queen alongside Ragnar, ruling over a glorious court before Sigrid’s eventual, bloody execution. Seen herself suffering as a mere Duke’s daughter and working tirelessly until she had Ragnar in her grasps.

In those visions, Sigrid had publicly used her wealth to save Count Leopold Varenne from his ruinous debts, only for Varenne to turn around and publicly denied her, sealing her doom.

Maria had deliberately dropped hints to the desperate, debt-ridden Count yesterday, steering him directly into Sigrid’s path to trigger the exact same chain of events. "I shall use the very people you once trusted to tear your life to pieces," Maria cackled softly, her smile widening into a twisted, hideous mask of triumph. "You rejected the Crown Prince to marry a doomed Duke, for some unknown reason maybe thinking you could escape your fate. But in the end, my dear Sigrid... you and your precious Duke will bleed together at the executioner’s block, and everything you built shall be mine! And this time I dont have to work that much to have what I deserve."