"You don’t actually want to leave the Tower, do you?"
Golden curtains hung from the majestic dome, with transparent marble forming sixty-six steps. Every ten steps led to a platform, each floored with different jade stones, clear in tiers and flaunting luxury, using the simple colors of jade to highlight the grandeur of the palace. In the deepest, highest part of this colossal palace, rested a soft bed enclosed by layers of curtains.
Although the palace lacked any human figures, it never ceased to exude the authority of a thousand ministers kneeling upon entrance. When the breeze swept through the halls and lifted the curtains, the sunshine outside could illuminate two figures on the bed, entangled like black and white serpents.
The White Queen lay drowsy in the Black Witch’s arms, and upon hearing this question, she shook her head subconsciously, "How could I... not want to..."
"Of course, you wouldn’t want to," the Black Witch gently massaged her temple, "We are sisters born to escape, but that doesn’t necessarily mean we want to. The Tower is our prison, yet it is also our home, our warmest... home."
"White," the Black Witch lowered her head, her black hair falling and mixing with the White Queen’s white hair, "You’ve actually had enough, haven’t you?"
"The cellared fine wine, the soft cakes, the gorgeous clothes, the carefree life, and the readily available position of power... you like beautiful things, you yearn for the scepter of rule, you don’t really want to leave the Tower. Instead, you follow the Witch’s plan, accept your responsibility, and command the fate of the Gospel..."
"You’ve always compromised yourself, always suppressed yourself, you have never lived for yourself, not even for a second."
"But you are not an accessory to Diya, you are you," the Black Witch’s eyes filled with a bloody madness, "My dear White Queen, it’s time to embrace your period of rebellion."
"’White Queen’ Lissdia, what a pleasing title."
"But... it’s not right..." The White Queen showed struggle, "Now is not the time to indulge..."
"Why isn’t it?" The Black Witch laughed, "Haven’t you found the last few days of indulgence quite comfortable? What are you waiting for? Safety? The end? Or are you waiting for a miracle?"
The Black Witch’s voice seemed to possess a captivating magic power, her hands entwined with lightning and fire, and the White Queen felt her skin tingle and warm under her touch, comfortably as if she were melting into water.
This is how the White Queen had spent the past few days, almost forgetting the specifics of the dream upon returning to reality, but the deep-seated pleasure still lingered.
Before her consciousness slipped away completely, the White Queen raised her hand slightly, and a painting descended with the curtains. It depicted a fairy tale illustration, where a Princess fell from a Tower, with a Knight catching her below. But because the Princess stretched out her hands downwards, and the Knight reached out his arms upwards, it looked as though they were rushing towards each other, full of danger yet beautiful.
This was a fairy tale.
But it was none of the fairy tales they had heard in the Tower.
It was a fairy tale written by Diya herself.
Apart from Liss, each sister had heard this fairy tale from Diya. It was the only gift Diya could prepare for them. In the countless days and nights in the Tower, they had added infinite details to the tale, but the one constant was this scene.
What the White Queen did not notice, was that upon seeing this painting, the smile on the Black Witch’s face froze instantly, the crimson in her pupils faded like a receding tide, leaving only murky blackness.
"No one will come to save us." Her voice was without a trace of fluctuation, monotonously stating a fact, "The Tower is but a prison, the Knights merely jailers, the Bronze Dragon nothing more than a phantom; only the Princess truly jumped."
"Miracle has been absent in too many times of our need; why do you still hold expectations for it?"
"The only thing we can trust is ourselves."
"No." The White Queen shook her head with effort, "I can still trust you, trust Red, and the other sisters..."
"You trust them, but do they deserve your trust?" the Black Witch’s voice was persuasively gentle, "Who really valued your opinion? Who truly thanked you for your care? You are neither Liss nor Diya; they might need the little Witch Liss, they might need the secret Princess Diya, but they will never need the White Queen Lissdia."
"They only want to use your Wisdom and composure, but they won’t cater to your desires. Even if you protect them from the elements, when the skies clear, it’s your time to leave the stage."
"It’s time to think for yourself, White," she spoke softly, "You don’t want to live inside a mirror forever, do you?"
Even though her consciousness was hazy, the White Queen’s response was still firm, "We are not out of danger yet; it’s a time when we need to work together, not to provoke disputes or conflicts. Yes, I long for courtly life, and I crave the authority of the Gospel, but... I am also a sister they trust."
"When Diya was at her most difficult, most painful, most lonely moment, she summoned me as a sister."
The White Queen lifted her hand through the black strands of hair, caressing the Black Witch’s face, "So I must protect her, I must protect all of you."
The Black Witch laughed in exasperation, "You were born because of Diya, so must you live for Diya your whole life? A sister in name, a slave in function, a toy in action?"
The White Queen’s lips trembled, her gaze flitting with struggle, yet she still said, "I live for ’Lissdia.’ Black, we haven’t even satisfied our basic needs for survival, we simply don’t have the luxury to consider each person’s spiritual needs."