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Shelby never liked Princess Gem.
In her opinion, the princess was too much of a queen bee— both literally and figuratively. Always smiling, surrounded by friends and woodland creatures, she was simply too kind and universally loved for Shelby to befriend. Plus, when Shelby came to visit her empire, she accidentally brought a thunderstorm with her, so Shelby figured that her dislike towards the princess was mutual.
So as the witch sat next to the princess while she was bent over an embroidery hoop, deft fingers weaving together the picture of a sunrise, she wanted to be anywhere but Dawn. Even the Goblands, where it was common practice to give stones and raw porkchops to guests, sounded better than hanging out with a (probably angry) princess while a storm raged outside.
“I’m glad you came, despite the— you know,” the ginger turned and waved at the window, which faced a stormy sea, “We haven’t really talked before, have we?”
“No, your Grace,” Shelby said. She almost wished she brought a spellbook with her, or any sort of distraction, but in her haste to meet the princess, she forgot to bring her bag. Not that she was complaining; her bag and its contents would’ve been thoroughly soaked.
“Oh, just call me Gem.” The princess smiled, looking up from her work. Shelby was taken aback by the intensity of her emerald eyes. Were they always that green? “Do you prefer to go by Shelby or Shubble?”
“Um, Shelby is fine.” The witch said awkwardly. Never in her wildest dreams did she imagine being on a first-name basis with the Princess of Dawn. She bet that the Great Witch Council hadn’t even met her!
Gem hummed. “Lovely.”
She went back to stitching.
There was something familiar about the melody of her song. It evoked a sense of comfort— not her little hut in the Evermoore, but of the Magic Academy. As much as she hated to admit it, the Academy was still a place she associated with safety. It was like home.
Shelby held her breath, trying to pinpoint where she knew the song from, and then almost choked as she realized.
It was an ancient hymn composed by High Wizard Gemini, the founder of the Magic Academy. Shelby had heard the greater witches sing the melody during their consecration ceremonies, and during Gemini Day, the annual holiday to celebrate the day Gemini became High Wizard of the Crystal Cliffs. This was one of the few days the Academy went on holiday, and was one of Shelby’s favorite days. Even in the Evermoore, Shelby didn’t work during Gemini Day, as a reminder of her childhood.
The sacred hymn was supposed to be a secret, exclusive to the Magic Academy and its inhabitants, so why did the princess know of its existence?
“Shelby?” Gem asked. “Are you okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
Shelby laughed nervously. “Ah… I’m okay. Just peachy.”
“If you say so,” the princess said easily. She turned back to her hoop, intent on picking apart a faulty stitch; she resumed her humming.
After a few moments, Shelby couldn’t take it any more. “Where is that song from?”
The singing stopped. “What song?”
“…The song that you were humming just now!” Shelby exclaimed.
“Oh, this?” Gem sang a few bars out loud, her voice crystal clear and unwavering. Shelby nodded vigorously. The ginger scrunched her face, struggling to remember. “I don’t know. It’s just like I was born with it etched into my mind, you know?”
Shelby didn’t know, and her confusion was apparently evident, for the princess sighed longingly. “I have a memory of singing it for the first time, but it’s just out of reach.”
“I see.” Shelby said, although she wasn’t sure if she saw.
“I should remember it… I’m supposed to…” Gem frowned, her mouth pressed into a thin line. “But I can’t.”
Shelby suddenly realized that the princess looked strangely raw; instead of the sunny, almost spoiled young woman most people saw, she saw a frustrated girl thrusted into the world of politics from too young an age, who had the pressure of an entire empire on her shoulders. Shelby felt a pang of sympathy for the other ruler, but despite everything, she still didn’t think she could like Princess Gem.
“I’m sorry,” Shelby whispered. She wasn’t sure if Gem heard her, as the princess started humming more fiercely, her needle diving in and out of the silk, a forgotten symphony hanging in the air.