Royal Reboot: Level up, Your Majesty!

BOOK 2

THE PRICE OF POWER

Princess vs. Archmage

Spieglein, spieglein an der Wand…

A sound reached her first, like a melody half-remembered or not meant for human ears. It came from nowhere she could locate, rising from some undefined depth. Eydis couldn’t tell whether she was falling or floating. It wasn’t a sensation so much as the absence of one. No ground beneath her, no resistance. Just the vast, endless weightlessness of a descent that never ended. Like being swallowed by the abyss all over again.

What… What was happening?

Who |

Princess, do you…

Another voice followed—low, measured, calm. It carried the salty spray and crashing roar of an ocean she'd never seen, only imagined. But imagination had always been her gift.

She could create places far beyond the eternally grey sky of her kingdom, her cage. In this, she was but a wounded canary, aching for sky, for wind, for flight.

The voice spoke again, gentler now, yet still powerful, like a wave drawing ever closer to a desolate cliff.

Who is the f—|

"Do you understand power? What you are capable of?"

Whose voice was that? Who?

Then came a jolt. Recognition followed. She remembered. The knowledge struck hard, not just because of what it was, but because she hadn’t realized it was missing. How had she forgotten in the first place? What had taken those memories?

The thought barely formed before the world around her unraveled. Space twisted. The room became a vortex of motion and color. Dizziness took hold.

Then something solid met her feet.

She looked down. Her legs were shorter. Her hands smaller. She wasn’t twenty-two anymore.

The study took shape around her: high ceilings, tall windows, ebony furniture. She knew this room. She had spent hours here, long ago. She was a child again.

Her new tutor smiled politely. It was warm enough to pass as kind, but the warmth didn’t reach his brown eyes.

Did Mother threaten him to teach her?

They said he was one of the most powerful mages in the realm. Eydis wasn’t impressed. She had no patience for long-winded lectures about traditions. Magic wasn’t meant to be studied. It was meant to be pushed. Broken. Reshaped.

This was the third arcane tutor in a month. The last two had left after a single session. They couldn't teach her anything she didn't already know.

And frankly, she wasn't a fan of her Mother's spies.

"Please, call me Gidion, Your Highness," he said, "though, I do need to touch your hand to assess your ability."

"I believe, Archmage Swan," she said, "my potential is documented thoroughly in the reports Her Majesty no doubt shared with you."

Gidion’s surprise, if genuine, was replaced quickly by his polite smile. The wrinkles around his eyes crinkled with amusement. "I don't rely on reports, Your Highness. I prefer to see it for myself. Your familiar, Envy."

Eydis clenched her jaw, but she complied. She snapped her fingers, and a swirling mass of violet mist materialised beside her, coalescing into the form of a beautiful serpent.

Envy coiled protectively around her small frame.

“A serpent,” Gideon mused. “Elegant, dangerous, patient. Yes, I can see why Envy would choose that shape. Or perhaps why you chose it for her.”

“Most wouldn’t call it elegant,” she said evenly. “Or ask so many questions.”

“And most wouldn’t bind a primal Sin at nine. That’s not something even the most gifted archmagi manage.”

Her eyes narrowed at the bluntness. Few ever spoke to her so directly. But Gideon, as a Bearer of another Sin, wasn’t likely to flinch in her presence.

"Envy is a pedestrian emotion," she scoffed. "Hardly befitting someone of my stature."

"Envy is the catalyst for resentment and malice," Gideon countered patiently, "And it’s one of the most corrosive forces in existence. Left unchecked, it can devour kingdoms.”

"Or perhaps it’s just the byproduct of inadequacy. A longing for what one cannot have. I don’t long. I take. I doubt I was ever truly compatible with it.”

"Your perspective on the Sins is intriguing, Your Highness. Then, if you had the choice, would you bind a different Sin?”

"Isn't Pride stronger? My mother's Sin?" Eydis challenged, tilting her head.

"Pride, yes,” Gideon said cautiously. “Ego is powerful. Some say it’s the source of all darkness. The first Sin. Wouldn’t you agree?”

Eydis paused, considering. "Root of all evil, perhaps," she murmured, "But I'm not convinced it's the most destructive."

Gideon's eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise. "How so?"

She smirked. “Some would argue Greed. But I’m not sold on that either.”

“Then enlighten me,” he said, leaning forward. “What’s your take?”

"That, Gidion, depends on you. Information for information.”

Gidion, taken aback by the young princess's blunt addresses and audacity, blinked once, then twice, then burst out laughing. 

“What do you want to know, little Princess?” 

Eydis couldn’t deny how warm and infectious his laugh was. Brushing it off, she asked, "Can you bind more than one Sin?" 

Gideon’s amusement abruptly turned to unease. “You can bind multiple lesser evils. But multiple primal Sins… that’s just — Why would you want such a burden?”

Indeed, why?

The older Eydis wanted to ask the same question. Even she couldn’t remember why she had hungered for power so badly, so young. Her twelve-year-old self’s eyes burned with a fire of conviction that startled even the woman she had become.

The younger girl allowed herself a half-smile, as if toying with a thought no one else could hope to guess. “You’re the only one who’s ever told me the truth.”

Gideon's eyes widened. "The truth?"

"That it's possible.”

His lips moved as if to speak. As if. The memory splintered suddenly, breaking into shards of mirror. Eydis saw her own stunned golden eyes staring back from every broken piece before the darkness claimed her again.

Again? She groaned. Three times a charm, they say.

Pain spiked. She opened her mouth in a soundless scream, her fingers stretching toward a final shard of mirror. When she gripped it, blood leaking from her palm, her lips moved on their own, shaping words both known and unknown.

Spieglein (Mirror),

Spieglein an der Wand (On the wall),

Wer ist die Schönste im ganzen Land?

(Who is the fairest of them all?)

The voice was clearer now. And she recognised it — her own. There was a tremor of controlled anger in it, and it repeated, repeated, repeated. 

“Fuck off!” 

Eydis jolted awake, her heart battering furiously, questions slamming and tangling into one another.

Was it a dream, or a memory? If real, why couldn’t she recall Gideon clearly? And if they had been taken, why were they coming back now?

Did it have something to do with Cerberus?

And what about Pride, the Sin known as the strongest of them all? Yet her younger self had whispered of something even worse. What could it be?

The voice, the mirror, the fragments without meaning. How did they all fit together?

She clenched the sheets and forced her eyes open. Blurry. Right. My eyesight.

Her vision no longer belonged to a princess, nor to a queen. Just to Eydis. A broken, feverish teenager who felt oddly comforted by the simplicity of it.

Everything burned: her skin, her thoughts, her blood. The wound on her palm throbbed, no doubt infected after plunging into the jaws of a monstrous dog. Sinking into the pillow, she smiled bitterly, strength slipping away as though she’d borrowed it from someone else. 

Then, the lamplight flickered as a figure moved past.

She found her glasses, blinking until Astra stood before her, wrapped in a midnight-blue robe that caught the light like the last moments of dusk. Those crimson eyes held concern.

Astra offered a steaming cup of fragrant chamomile tea. “Drink.”

“Thanks.” Eydis sat up and drained it, letting the warmth soothe her.

Astra pressed a hand gently to Eydis’s forehead. “You’re burning up.”

Eydis managed a weak smirk. “A night’s rest and I’ll be my insufferable self by morning.”

Even her voice sounded off-balance.

Astra’s lips twitched. "If tossing and turning in sweaty pajamas counts as rest, you’ll need considerably more than a single night.”

Eydis paused, momentarily thrown by the subtle tenderness beneath the biting retort. 

“Oh? Will the Ice Princess herself cool me down? I could use the help, given my rather… violent nocturnal activities.”

She expected a blush, a snide retort, something cold.

Instead, Astra stared at the absurd purple bunny-print pajamas clinging damply to Eydis’s body.

“Did you raid a five-year-old’s closet?”

Too easy. Eydis flashed a teasing grin, tugging provocatively at the loose collar. “Do I look five?”

Astra’s gaze tracked the motion, catching on the sheen of sweat tracing Eydis’s throat. Something briefly ignited in her eyes, then blinked out. “You really do need to cool down…”

Then, too fast to stop herself, she said it. “Undress.”

Eydis’s brows shot up.