As Isla was led into the grand throne room, shackled and unassuming, the assembled nobles murmured in anticipation. The air was thick with tension, each person waiting to see how the verdict would unfold.
Sylveria, seated among her brothers and sisters, felt her heart race with anxiety. She watched Isla's impassive gaze drift upwards, focusing on the intricate designs adorning the high ceiling rather than the dignitaries below. Even in the face of her uncertain future, Isla maintained that characteristic aloofness, a trait that both intrigued and frustrated princess Sylveria.
As the judges began their deliberations, Sylveria's palms grew clammy, and her breath quickened. She knew the severity of Isla's crime, assaulting the son of a duke, and the likely consequences. The weight of the situation pressed down upon the gathering like a physical force. Isao, seated alongside her father and brothers with the other nobles who are present, could hardly keep the tremble from her voice as she regarded the shackled form of her friend before the throne. The stakes were perilously high, and she feared for Isla's fate amidst such rigid expectations of conduct.
Meanwhile, Isla seemed utterly detached from the tense atmosphere, her gaze following a dancing butterfly as it flitted about the room."Oh look, a butterfly." Her words, innocent and disinterested, sparked a flurry of reactions from the gathered nobility. While Lord Lavender, Isao, and the princess maintained somber expressions, their faces etched with concern, the Duke and Bartolomeo's kin wore looks of disdain. Meanwhile Sylveria's heart clenched as she watched the proceedings unfold. Though she had hoped her words might sway the judgment, the severity of the crime committed couldn't be ignored.
As the proceeding continues, the princes and princesses shared weighted glances, their faces mirroring the solemnity of the occasion. Despite Sylveria's impassioned pleas on Isla's behalf, the gravity of the commoner's offense – striking a noble – could not be dismissed. The Lavender clan, embodied by Lord Lavender and his offspring, watched with a mix of apprehension and concern etched upon their features. In stark contrast, Bartolomeo's ire simmered just below the surface, his glare fixed intently on the shackled Isla with a venomous intensity. The Duke, accompanied by his brooding sons, exuded an icy displeasure, his very presence commanding reverence, if not outright terror. The oppressive atmosphere was palpable, each participant acutely aware of the delicate balance precariously tipping in the face of Isla's defiance.
Isla's gaze swept the crowded throne room, landing with particular amusement on Bartolomeo's furious countenance. "Oh... Kuku... Mediocre." she quipped, a smirk playing on her lips as if she held the arrogant noble in utter contempt. Her nonchalance was staggering, given the perilous circumstances that surrounded her. Sylveria, seated nearby, struggled to maintain her composure in the face of Isla's brazen behavior. She had witnessed countless displays Isla's condescending attitude towards perceived fools during their previous lives, but the weight of the situation now hung precariously in the balance. The princess's features twisted in a conflicting mix of amusement and unease, unsure whether to be charmed by Isla's audacity or terrified by the consequences that might ensue.
Suddenly, the duke's thunderous voice cut through the tension, silencing the murmurs that had begun to circulate amongst the nobility. Isla's casual remark directed at Bartolomeo seemed to grate on the nerves of the entire assembly, especially the duke himself. His jowls quivering with rage, the obese nobleman thundered, "Silence you lowly commoner!" The throne room erupted into a cacophony of jeers and derisive comments hurled at Isla's insolent demeanor. Isla, unfazed by the onslaught of insults, simply turned her gaze to fixate on the duke's protruding belly, a bemused smile playing on her lips. Lord Lavender and his offsprings looked on with a mix of embarrassment and concern, acutely aware of the dangerous game Isla seemed determined to play. Sylveria's breath caught in her throat as she realized the gravity of the situation.
"Everyone, silence." With a single decree, the king Edric's commanding voice brought the tumultuous assembly to an immediate standstill. Isla's unwavering gaze locked onto the monarch, an aura of tranquility emanating from her serene features. Had she still possessed the formidable prowess of her former existence, perhaps even the king's authority would have faltered in the face of her unwavering conviction. Undeterred by her reduced stature, Isla articulated her stance with unshakable resolve. "I only protected my friend from a 'noble' who disregarded his sacred duty to safeguard those beneath him. Tell me, king, is this the essence of nobility? Prioritizing one's own self-interest over the welfare of the people they are sworn to serve and protect?" Her brown eyes, blazing with righteous indignation, met the king's unyielding stare directly.
"No matter the station – be it nobility or royalty – I will not hesitate to defend the innocent. If necessary, I will slice through any who would harm the defenseless, regardless of their lofty titles or supposed virtues." Isla's declaration rang out, echoing off the opulent walls of the throne room. Her posture remained unbowed, a testament to her unyielding principles in the face of overwhelming odds. Sylveria, seated nearby, couldn't help but be surprised as she slowly smiles softly at Isla's unwavering stance. Even in this unfamiliar world, the girl's core beliefs and unshakeable moral compass remained steadfast. The princess's earlier fears began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of solidarity with her friend's unflinching dedication to justice. Isao, standing tall beside Lord Lavender, felt a surge of admiration for Isla's courage. She too pondered the harsh realities of the nobles' neglect, her own trepidation melting away in the face of Isla's unrelenting passion for protecting the vulnerable.
Sylveria stepped forward, her slender hand cupped the back of Isla's head, guiding the rebellious girl into a formal bow. Isla's brows furrowed in distaste, her body tensing against the indignity, but she ultimately relented, allowing Sylveria to maintain the propriety demanded by their royal presence. "We beseech Your Highness for mercy," Sylveria pleaded, her voice melodic yet urgent. "Isla is my dearest companion, and though she acted rashly against Lord Bartolomeo, I assure you his conduct fell far short of the nobility we hold dear. She sought only to protect our cherished friend Isao from further harm." Tears streamed down Isao's cheeks as she ran beside the two and sank to her knees beside Sylveria, the three friends now bowed together in supplication. "Please, Your Majesty, show leniency to our friend!" Sylveria and Isao said in unison.
Moved by the sight of three innocent 9-year-olds pleading for mercy, the King's granite-like expression began to crack. His heavy brow furrowed as he studied the trio, weighing the merits of their case. Sylveria's heartfelt plea resonated deeply, and the King couldn't help but recall the countless times his own daughters had rallied around their friends, showing unwavering loyalty and compassion. The image of these three young girls, Isla, Sylveria, and Isao, knelt before him, begging for clemency, stirred something within the monarch's heart.
"Rise, children," the King commanded, his voice a soothing balm to the trio's racing hearts. "While Bartolomeo's actions were indeed improper, your friend's assault still warrants punishment. However, considering your exemplary conduct and loyalty, I shall reduce the sentence to community service. You shall assist in maintaining the royal gardens until further notice." The sudden display of filial devotion and contrition from the young commoner left the assembled nobility collectively stunned. Bartolomeo, flanked by his brothers, and the duke themselves appeared dumbfounded, their countenances a picture of shock and disbelief.
"But my lord! Isn't that being far too lenient?" Bartolomeo and his father, the duke, erupted in protest, their voices laced with indignation. The surrounding dukes and nobles, sensing an opportunity to assert their own interests, began to murmur in agreement, their eyes gleaming with avarice and resentment. As the chorus of dissent grew louder, the king's stoic expression remained unbroken, his gaze sweeping the room with an air of calm authority. The heavy silence that followed served as a reminder of the delicate balance of power that governed the intricate web of alliances and rivalries within the palace walls.
First Queen Elysandra's majestic figure rose from her throne, her exquisite gown shimmering in the soft light of the throne room. Her voice, like a chilling winter breeze, cut through the cacophony of dissent, leaving the duke and his son visibly shaken. "Your audacity knows no bounds, duke Asterion." she stated icily, her gaze piercing through the veil of outrage. "This child exhibited remarkable bravery, defending her friend from the very individual entrusted with the protection of his subjects. Instead, Bartolomeo callously exploited and menaced the innocent. By any reasonable standard, he is the one deserving of stern retribution, not Miss Isla." A flash of warning ignited in the queen's eyes, swiftly extinguishing any lingering protests. "Community service, a privilege bestowed upon these girls for their exemplary conduct, appears a suitable punishment in light of the circumstances. Any appeals against this decision will be met with disfavor."
"Your Majesties, if I may be so bold, I would also request that Isla and Isao serve as my personal guards." Sylveria interjected, her voice smooth as silk. The monarchs exchanged a glance, clearly intrigued by the young princess's proposition. Isla's usually impassive features betrayed a flicker of interest at the prospect of remuneration. "I don't mind, Your Highnesses." she replied, her tone detached even as she contemplated the potential for indulging in sweet treats. "Ice cream is a worthy pursuit, after all."
Isao, ever the optimist, grinned widely at the offer, her joy infectious. "And I don't mind either, my liege!" she exclaimed, giggling at the thought of accompanying her friends on exciting adventures again.
The King and Queen exchanged a glance, surprise flickering in their eyes at Sylveria's bold proposal. Yet, upon closer inspection, they discerned the wisdom behind it. These two young girls, though mere children, possessed qualities rare in adults - unwavering loyalty, courage, and a strong sense of justice.
"Very well, Sylveria," the King agreed, his voice tinged with approval. "Miss Isla and Miss Isao shall serve as your personal guards. Their unique abilities and steadfast dedication will undoubtedly prove invaluable in your future endeavors." The Queen concurred, adding, "Their community service in the royal gardens will commence immediately. Once deemed suitable, they shall join your retinue, providing you with the protection and companionship you require."
Isla's expression remained inscrutable, her mind already calculating the potential income from this arrangement.
