Crimson Rose Queen

Chapter 3 – Sebastian's Consorts (1)

Despite my initial discomfort, my hunger won out. In what felt like mere moments, I devoured the lavish breakfast spread before me. Only when I leaned back, satisfied, did I notice the stunned expressions of the four maids and Nurse Margaret. Their wide-eyed stares made it clear I'd committed some grave faux pas.

Wiping my mouth with a napkin, I chuckled awkwardly. "Aren't you all going to eat?"

They exchanged glances before Nurse Margaret hurriedly replied, "My lady, surely you know we cannot dine until after you've finished?"

"Oh." I blinked. The palace's rigid hierarchy was already grating on me. The thought of them standing there, hungry while I feasted, twisted my conscience. "From now on, you'll eat with me. It's boring dining alone."

The reaction was immediate—and dramatic. They dropped to their knees as if I'd threatened execution. "Your Majesty, we beg your forgiveness! Such an offense would be unthinkable!"

Even Nurse Margaret paled. "My lady, though I still call you 'miss' out of habit, you are our queen. Please, never speak like this again! If others heard, it would mean our ruin!"

I suppressed a groan. Was sharing a meal such a crime? The feudal system here was suffocating. My attempt at egalitarianism had backfired spectacularly.

"Fine, have it your way." I sighed. "You may rise."

"Thank you, Your Majesty!" They scrambled up, but something in their eyes had shifted—less fear, more warmth. At least I'd earned some goodwill. In this vipers' nest, allies were precious.

Just then, the heavy velvet curtains parted, and a liveried steward bowed deeply. "Your Majesty, the noble ladies await your presence in the Silvermoon Hall for morning courtesies."

"Noble ladies?" My eyebrow arched. "Exactly how many consorts does Sebastian have?"

The room froze. Nurse Margaret lunged to grip my wrist, hissing, "My lady, you mustn't—"

"Right, right, no names." I waved her off and turned to the steward. "Well? Answer me."

The man swallowed hard. "Your Majesty, all consorts are present today: Lady Isabella of House Voss, Lady Clarisse of House Duvall, Lady Seraphina of House—"

"Enough!" I cut him off. "I don't care about titles. Lead the way. And your name?"

"Steward Colbert, Your Majesty." He wiped his brow. "This way, please."

As we approached the hall, a cacophony of shrill voices spilled out—like a flock of squabbling sparrows. Their chatter revolved around who'd recently shared the king's bed, who'd received gifts, whose gown was most fashionable. My nose wrinkled. Pathetic. Their entire existence revolves around one man's favor.

Chapter 3 – Sebastian's Consorts (2)

The moment I stepped through the arched doorway, silence fell. Dozens of eyes locked onto me, sharp enough to pierce armor. If looks could kill, I'd have been a pincushion.

Their gazes brimmed with envy, awe, disdain—every emotion under the sun. I scanned the assembly. Each woman was beautiful, yet none could rival the face I now wore. More damning was the pettiness in their eyes, their souls corroded by ambition.

After a beat, they remembered protocol and sank into synchronized curtsies. "Your Majesty!"

The sheer volume made my ears ring. Steward Colbert nudged me discreetly. "Your Majesty, you must grant them leave to rise."

"Oh! Right." I mimicked the regal gestures I'd seen in period dramas, flicking my wrist. "You may rise."

Colbert coughed. "And now, seating arrangements—"

By the gods, so many rules! I gestured impatiently toward the gilded chairs. As they settled, their scrutiny returned, prickling my skin. Sebastian, you overindulged brat. Barely twenty and already a harem? Now I'm in the zoo exhibit.

Once their curiosity was sated, a woman in crimson silk—undoubtedly Lady Isabella—spoke with saccharine sweetness. "Your Majesty, we heard His Grace stormed back to the Dragon's Keep last night, shattering the priceless Astorian vase in his rage. Might you enlighten us as to what provoked such… passion?"

Her smirk was a blade wrapped in velvet. She knew exactly why Sebastian had left—and relished humiliating me with it.

Before I could retort, another consort simpered, "We're so concerned for His Grace's health! Such distress could weaken his royal constitution."

Spare me the act. I stifled a yawn. The sleepless night weighed on me like lead. If they insisted on this farce, I'd end it my way.

Leaning back, I closed my eyes… and drifted off mid-court.

Chapter 3 – Sebastian's Consorts (3)

"Ethan, why don't you like me? Is it just because I'm plain?"

Mist swirled as a short-haired girl—me, Lynn, in my past life—chased after a boy. Her cheeks burned, but her eyes held a courage I'd long forgotten.

Ethan Cross. Just the name made my chest ache. The boy I'd loved, who'd never see me as more than a friend. No fairy-tale ending for the ugly duckling.

Yet in this dream, he turned, brushing my hair with a tenderness that shattered me. "Silly girl. I've always loved you."

"Ethan…" His arms enveloped me, his breath warm against my skin. As his lips neared mine, my heart threatened to burst—

"YOUR MAJESTY!"

A shriek shattered the dream. My eyes flew open to Lady Isabella's furious glare.

How dare she! "What the hell is your problem?" I snarled.

She recoiled, then dipped into a stiff curtsy. "Forgive me, Your Majesty!"

Right. I'm Eleanor now. I cleared my throat, channeling regal disdain. "You're dismissed. All of you."

Like startled hens, they scattered. Lady Isabella's parting glare promised trouble, but I couldn't care less. Sebastian and his harem could rot together.