The Eccentric Entomologist is Now a Queen's Consort

Back in the west courtyard alcove, Estella and Elowen finally seized a moment of calm amid the lingering aftershocks of the day's commotion. Dappled sunlight streamed through the ivy-laced arches, painting fleeting patterns on the stone floor beneath their feet. Though the distant hum of the estate's busy corridors still reached them, here they could sit—if only for a moment—and speak candidly.

Elowen gently placed her slender cup on a low stone table. The queen's poise remained regal as always, but her tone carried a hint of curiosity. "I'm still astounded by how quickly you pivoted, Estella," she began. "No offense, but that was quite the sudden transformation. This morning, I saw you looking ready to collapse under the weight of it all."

Estella, careful never to forget decorum, inclined her head. "I appreciate Your Majesty's observation," she said, allowing a faint, self-conscious smile. "To be honest, I was shaken at first. But desperation pushes you into action, doesn't it? There's hardly room for fear once you realize everything could fail if you don't move quickly enough."

Elowen nodded in contemplation, crossing her arms loosely. "And embarrassment helped, you said?"

A soft flush tinted Estella's cheeks. "Let's just say I wasn't eager to witness my name dragged through the gossip of every noble house from here to the distant provinces, Your Majesty." She chuckled. "I'd have sooner run off and become a hermit in the mountains."

Elowen tilted her head, mild amusement in her gaze. "A hermit who brews secret cosmetic potions in a crumbling tower?"

"Exactly, Your Majesty," Estella agreed, a small grin lifting the corners of her mouth. "Although I doubt it would stay secret for long. My formulas have a knack for drawing attention, even when I'm trying to be discreet."

The queen's eyes glimmered. "Speaking of drawing attention, Mikhailis was quick to jump in and support you. He seems… invested." Her statement held no accusation, only curiosity.

Estella let a brief silence pass as she weighed her words. "He's very invested, yes," she admitted carefully. "We've worked side by side for days that taste like months—late nights, testing formulas, refining enchantments. It's only natural he'd be concerned when things got complicated. He looks out for people he cares about."

Elowen arched an eyebrow. "Does that include you?"

Estella's laugh was short and genuine.

"Yes, in a sense, Your Majesty. I believe we make a good team. But I'm not fool enough to complicate matters. I've seen how he looks at you." A hint of warmth filled her voice, though she kept it measured, ever aware of proper deference.

Silence descended briefly, broken only by a swirl of wind that brushed through the ivy overhead. Elowen's gaze flickered as though she were considering Estella's words. Then she picked up her teacup, letting the heat of the rose-infused brew roll over her fingertips. "You know," she said softly, "I envy your ambition. It reminds me of myself—years ago."

Estella glanced up, surprised. "You, Your Majesty? Envious?" It was difficult to imagine the poised monarch—who seemed to command every situation—harboring envy.

A quiet, knowing smile touched Elowen's lips. "Even queens have secrets." She set her cup aside again, the movement unhurried. "I see how you throw yourself into ideas, undaunted by obstacles. I once dreamed so freely too, until obligations made me more cautious."

Estella nodded, mulling over the queen's words. "Your Majesty, I guess it's easy for me to be ambitious when there's no kingdom at stake if I fail. Perhaps it's different when the entire realm looks to you for guidance."

"It is," Elowen agreed, swirling the dregs of tea in her cup. "Duty can weigh you down. Yet I watch you—and Mikhailis—and see the sparks of uninhibited creativity. Sometimes, I wish I could roam that freely again." She gave a softer laugh. "I suppose that's the envy I speak of."

"Your Majesty, if not for your station, perhaps you'd have become a grand inventor in your own right," Estella mused. "I can picture you orchestrating an entire workshop." She hesitated, then ventured quietly, "Do you ever regret that duty?"

Elowen shook her head, the small gold clasp at her cloak catching a sunbeam. "Not exactly regret. More… curiosity for how things might have turned out otherwise. But we all fulfill roles. I take comfort in knowing I serve a greater purpose." Her gaze slipped past Estella, toward the arches, as though visualizing the world beyond them.

Estella inhaled slowly, letting the hush of the alcove calm her. "Your Majesty's responsibilities definitely dwarf my own, and I realize that's why your support means so much. If you hadn't recognized our work, things could have gone very differently."

The queen met Estella's eyes and gave a slight nod. "I suspect your venture would've succeeded on its own merit, eventually. But I do believe a timely endorsement helps." She smiled—a softer expression than the one she wore in crowded halls. "And I applaud what you're doing, Estella. You're not only forging new ground in arcane cosmetics but showing the court that there's more to magic than destructive power or lofty prophecies."

Encouraged, Estella sat forward. "That was part of my goal from the outset, Your Majesty. I've always believed enchantments could serve everyday beauty rather than just grand spells. And Mikhailis… he's the genius who can spin that theory into reality." She paused before adding quietly, "Though he'd sooner starve than stop working on a fascinating project. I end up reminding him to eat most days."

Elowen's eyes lit briefly with amusement. "Indeed, I've noticed his single-minded focus. It can be impressive—and concerning. He seems to thrive on creative chaos."

Estella lowered her gaze for a moment. "I'm glad I can temper that chaos sometimes, Your Majesty. He keeps me from being too reckless, and I keep him from ignoring his own limits. We balance each other's extremes."

The sound of a small bird trilling overhead punctuated Estella's words, and both women looked up in time to see a flash of vibrant feathers streak across the ivy. The moment felt delicate—an interlude carved out of the day's rush. Faint echoes of activity in the distance reminded them that a hungry court waited for news, products, and guidance. Yet, within these ivy-laced arches, they had a fragile bubble of time.

Elowen's posture relaxed by a subtle degree. "It's refreshing to speak plainly, without ceremony," she said. "Sometimes, I worry everything I say has to be framed as royal edict or strategic plan." She let out a soft, rueful laugh. "In these rare moments, it's almost… freeing."

Estella offered a gentle smile. "If it helps, Your Majesty, you're a natural at being direct when you want to be. And you've been a welcome voice of reason when our ambitions raced ahead. I'm grateful."

The queen's attention returned fully to Estella, an introspective glimmer in her eyes. "In that case, let me be direct once more. Do you see this project growing beyond these palace walls—perhaps bridging gaps between distant provinces? It has that potential, you know."

Estella's face lit. "Truly, Your Majesty, I do. My hope is for our line to become something that transcends fashion—a cultural staple, a point of pride in arcane craftsmanship. If we show people how everyday magic can enhance life, maybe they'll view it differently. Maybe it's not just wizardly texts and war spells; maybe enchantments can be subtle, personal."

Elowen nodded thoughtfully. "People fear what they don't understand. Show them something enchanting yet approachable, and you might break through that fear. It's part of why I've championed your work." She hesitated, then added, "Though I also see it as a valuable economic asset, of course. You understand the realm's well-being is always in play."

Estella managed a slight bow from her seated position, a flicker of formality. "I never forget Your Majesty's broader concerns. If our success helps the kingdom prosper, I'd be deeply honored."

For a moment, neither spoke. Then Elowen ventured a small, playful question. "Is it odd," she asked gently, "being candid with a queen?"

A lopsided smile crossed Estella's features. "Truthfully? Yes, Your Majesty. I'm accustomed to layering my words with politeness and caution whenever I deal with figures of authority. But here, now… it feels as though we understand each other on a more personal level."

Elowen's answering smile was quiet but genuine. "I value that honesty, Estella. And in this courtyard, you can address me as you will." She paused, noting Estella's polite posture. "Though I see you're determined to maintain respect in your words. I can appreciate that.

"I can't help it, Your Majesty," Estella confessed. "Habit, and it reminds me who I'm speaking to."

They shared a brief laugh, light enough to brighten the stillness around them. Overhead, the ivy rustled again, a reminder of the thriving life just beyond their small alcove. Elowen tilted her head, glancing at the path leading back toward the estate's busier wings. "It won't be long before someone comes searching for us. The excitement out there won't subside on its own."

Estella let out a soft sigh. "Indeed, Your Majesty. We'll be swept up again in a flurry of demands—new product requests, potential partnerships…"

"And Mikhailis will have a hundred updates about the next enhancements," Elowen interjected, lips curving into a fond smile. "He never lacks ideas, does he?"

"Never," Estella agreed, sounding both amused and resigned. "If anything, I worry he'll overtax himself. I might have to threaten to lock his workshop doors if he doesn't sleep."

Elowen gave a small laugh. "Threatening him with rest—now that's a royal command I'd support wholeheartedly." She reached for her tea once more, though it had cooled. "But jokes aside, I hope both of you understand how valuable your creativity is. We're all better for it. Just… take care of yourselves in the process."

Estella placed a hand over her heart. "We will, Your Majesty. I promise."

A gentle breeze swept across the courtyard, stirring the delicate ivy vines, casting playful shadows across Elowen's features. She regarded Estella with an expression that balanced authority and empathy. When she spoke again, her voice was hushed. "If there's anything else you wish to say, or if you ever need counsel, don't hesitate. We share more in common than the court might guess."

Touched, Estella inclined her head. "Thank you, Your Majesty. That means more to me than you know."

They sat in companionable stillness for a few heartbeats, each absorbing the significance of the moment. Light footsteps approached in the distance—an attendant, perhaps, or a guard sent to fetch them. The respite they'd carved out here was nearing its end.

Elowen glanced up, her posture shifting as she prepared to stand. "Shall we return, then?"

Estella exhaled softly. "Yes, Your Majesty. Our grand festival awaits."

A final smile passed between them—two women who had navigated tension, ambition, and shared vulnerability to find, if only briefly, an unburdened understanding.

Their gazes met. No rivalry. No passive daggers. Just mutual, unspoken respect.