Cytheria stood in the Grand Hall, directing the servants as they decorated. It been tight, but she had managed to pull through. Two weeks was not normally enough time to pull together a ball of this importance, and it was now nine days away.

  “My Queen, the gold and black roses have arrived.” Her gardener appeared at her shoulder, his bright eyes looking around the room with unrestrained glee.

  “Bring them in.” She glanced to him, suppressing a smile. When Cytheria had chosen him, she knew she had chosen well, as he loved all growing things as his own.

  Now, she had ordered hundreds of these roses just for this moment. As they came in, she reached one hand toward the bushels. Their essence pulsed toward her, answering her call as she lifted her left palm upward, her right hand joining the left.

  Purple lightning danced down her arms, and the roses seemed to explode, rising from their carts. Their steams shot out, racing across the ground and walls to wrap around everything. Within moments she had covered the columns and ceiling and walls themselves with beautiful gold and black roses that rained petals down. With a murmur of a spell, she stayed the fall of the petals.

  “There…” Cytheria did not pant. She did not break a sweat. She simply admired her own work.

  “Black and gold? Why are we honoring them?” Her daughter swept in, eyeing the roses with open disdain.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “We honor what we must, though I am sure Rex will fail to appreciate it.” Cytheria slid her blue eyes approvingly over her daughter's tall form. The girl had clearly been blessed with her father's side of the height gene-pool, and it pleased Cytheria to no end that she struck a good silhouette.

  “Should you not use his title?” Princess Lena arched a brow at her mother. It was one of the first things Cytheria had taught her, and the Queen did feel rather petty not doing so.

  “He doesn’t use mine.” Cytheria waved everyone away, turning to sweep out of the hall with her. "Respect is a two-way street."

  “He’s an ass.” Lena scoffed, looking down at her mother. Cytheria knew she was surprised, as Cytheria always taught her to stand her ground, no matter what.

  “Yes, but he has food.” Slowing, she turned to look toward the Great Lake Lunatum, and to the island at its center. There sat the city of Everlit, its glowing lights a beacon in the dark cavern.

  Lena paused to her left with her hands folded before her as she gazed at the lake as well. For a long moment, neither woman spoke, until finally the Princess looked at Cytheria.

  “Are we in such dire need, Mother?” She kept her voice low, as if she feared being overheard.

  Cytheria turned toward her daughter. She felt pride well up in her, noticing how lovely her carefully cultivated heir had become. Her long hair was almost the exact shade of black as Cytheria's own, and her striking purple eyes mirrored her father. The sweep of her horns, the straightness of her jaw and nose, and the haughty air that was mellowing into confidence reminded Cytheria of herself at that age.

  “Tomorrow we will ride. I will show you firsthand and you may assess for yourself.” It was past time to put Lena to actual work on Barathrum's current plight. Someday, she would rule all beneath the surface of Gaia, and it was Cytheria's duty to train her properly.

  Lena nodded, and mother and daughter strolled side-by-side back to their carriages.