───── ❝ Chapter Ten ❞ ────

Adieya's heart raced as she and her ladies-in-waiting rushed through the grand halls adorned with expensive Russian flowers that Henry had arranged for her farewell ball. The castle seemed to glow with an ethereal radiance as if bidding a passionate farewell to the departing Russian Queen. Adieya couldn't help but marvel at the opulence surrounding her, but her mind was preoccupied with the mixture of excitement and sadness that filled her heart.

Finally arriving at the imposing doors of the Throne Room, Adieya's entourage paused, awaiting their grand announcement. Inside, the festivities were already in full swing. Laughter, music, and dancing filled the air as the guests reveled in the night's merriment. Henry and Eleanor, the hosts of the grand affair, were seated on their thrones, seemingly lost in the joy of the celebration.

Adieya, however, couldn't help but feel a tinge of melancholy as she watched the revelry from the threshold. The thought of departing from England and the life she had experienced here weighed on her mind, especially as she eagerly awaited the birth of her child. Eleanor, too, seemed lost in her own thoughts, picking at her food with a distant expression while the festivities carried on.

As the night progressed and more dignitaries arrived, Adieya finally gathered the courage to step forward and enter the Throne Room. The moment she crossed the threshold, a hush fell over the room, and all eyes turned to the foreign queen making her final appearance. Adieya's beauty and grace were undeniable, and an aura of admiration surrounded her as she walked towards the dais, her heart pounding in her chest.

A voice rolled through the Throne Room, "Her Imperial Majesty The Lady Empress and Autocrat of All Russia, Heir to the Italian throne, Ambassador to Spain and France, Empress Adieya Romanov!"

Adieya bowed gracefully before the court, taking a deep breath to steady herself before rising to meet Henry's gaze. There was a fleeting moment of unspoken understanding between the two, acknowledging the complexities of their relationship and the challenges that lay ahead.

"Your Imperial Majesty, I hope you enjoy your last night in England!" Henry's warm voice broke the silence, and Adieya managed to muster a soft yet resolute reply, "I promise I will live out this night to the fullest."

Henry nodded, a hint of admiration in his eyes. "I am very pleased to hear that. I hope you have found England to be a place worthy to continue our alliance for many years to come. But for now, in this important time, allow yourself to find happiness and solitude in your departure. Now, music, please!" he called out, prompting a cheer from the crowd as the festivities resumed.

Adieya was led to her designated throne on the dais by Charles, who offered a supportive arm and a warm smile. As she took her seat, she couldn't help but think about the journey she had undertaken during her time in England. Her character had evolved, and her experiences had deepened her understanding of diplomacy and the complexities of royalty.

Throughout the night, Adieya immersed herself in the lively atmosphere, conversing with various dignitaries and guests. The tension between her and Henry was palpable, a mixture of fondness and the unspoken acknowledgment of the circumstances that had brought them together.

Through the night, the music and dancing continued, weaving an intricate tapestry of joy and nostalgia. Adieya found herself swept into the rhythm of the celebration, occasionally stealing glances at Henry, wondering what the future might hold for their nations and their personal lives.

Eventually, the moment arrived when Henry approached Adieya, extending a hand for a dance. She hesitated for a moment, but the desire to share this final dance with the English king overcame any reservations. With a gracious smile, she accepted his invitation, and they swirled onto the dance floor together.

As they danced, Adieya felt a mix of emotions washing over her. The swirling dance steps mirrored the complexities of their relationship, and with each movement, she found herself growing more aware of the unspoken bond they shared.

After the dance, Henry leaned in to whisper in Adieya's ear, "Thank your principal lady for me as she helped plan a surprise for you." Adieya was intrigued, her curiosity piqued by the unexpected mention of a surprise.

The grand ballroom was ablaze with a myriad of colors and shimmering lights as the night continued to unfold. Adieya gracefully danced and engaged in lively conversations with Charles and various members of the English court. Henry, ever the attentive host, delighted in numerous dances with Adieya, the chemistry between them evident in their seamless movements.

As the night wore on, hunger finally caught up with Adieya, prompting her to take a break and head towards the dais where her designated throne awaited. She signaled for a servant to bring her some food and wine, seeking a moment of respite. However, her brief moment of solitude was interrupted by the voice of Eleanor, who approached her from the left.

"Imperial Majesty, how are you enjoying tonight?" Eleanor's voice carried a hint of suspicion as if she were trying to probe Adieya's true feelings.

Adieya took a deep breath, composing herself before responding, "It has been a delightful evening, Your Majesty. Your country is truly a magnificent place."

Eleanor nodded, seemingly pleased with the answer, before directing Adieya's attention to Princess Margaret, the heir to the English Throne. Adieya expected to see a resemblance to Elizabeth in the young princess, but she was taken aback by the sight before her. Margaret bore little resemblance to her mother nor to Henry, with pale skin marred by painful-looking bruises that were hastily concealed by makeup and clothing.

The princess was brought closer by her governess, and Adieya greeted her with a warm smile, "Your Highness, it is an honor to meet you."

Eleanor, with a hint of cunning, made sure to emphasize her daughter's role as heir, a reminder of her influence over the English kingdom. Adieya maintained her composure, not allowing herself to be rattled by Eleanor's subtle power play.

As they sat together, eating and observing the court's interactions, Eleanor asked Adieya about her plans for having children. It was a loaded question, and Adieya could sense the underlying motives behind it. She chose her words carefully, "Only with my future husband. Currently, I have neither a husband nor a lover, so it will be some time before I consider having children. But when the time is right, I do hope to carry on both my husband's title and family name, as well as my own."

Eleanor raised an eyebrow at the response, but her only visible reaction was a contemplative hum. The tension between the two queens lingered, with Eleanor likely expecting a more controversial answer, yet Adieya's diplomatic response defused the situation.

Before Eleanor could press further, Henry approached the dais, his charming demeanor oblivious to the undercurrents between the two royals. He requested a drink and returned to his throne, turning his attention to Adieya with a beaming smile, oblivious to Eleanor's subtle displeasure.

"How is the party treating you, Empress?" Henry inquired warmly, focusing solely on Adieya.

Adieya returned his smile, playing along with the charade for the sake of diplomacy, "The party has been nothing short of extraordinary, Your Majesty. Your hospitality has made this night truly unforgettable."

Eleanor rolled her eyes and nonchalantly motioned for a drink, silently retreating to the background while the conversation between Henry and Adieya continued. Despite the subtle tensions in the air, the party raged on, the music and laughter drowning out the complexities and intrigues that lay beneath the surface. However, she couldn't help but be genuinely surprised by the level of thought and effort put into the party's preparations, particularly in incorporating her country's traditional decorations and food. She regarded Henry with an honest appreciation, "I must say I am surprised at the amount of thought put into the party. Especially all of my country's traditional decorations and food, it must have taken a lot of planning."

In response, Henry's eyes lit up with a mischievous glint, and he reached over to take one of Adieya's hands that were resting in her lap, bringing it to his lips. "It is your last night here, so I thought you would enjoy some of your home country's delights," he replied, a faint smile playing on his lips.

A sudden bell rang throughout the castle, cutting through the noise and silencing the room. Henry rose from his seat, drawing everyone's attention as he stood to address the gathering. "Lords and Ladies, tonight is the last night Her Imperial Majesty will be joining us and our country," he began, his voice carrying a sense of gravity. "During her time here, she has shared her stories with me, allowing for an alliance between her nation and ours. But what has most importantly come about since her arrival is her presence can and will stop the ongoing feud between Catholics and Protestants. She and I have agreed, and an alliance between our two nations has been made. Let us celebrate our nation's commitment to one another!" The room erupted in cheers, acknowledging the significance of the alliance.

Not to be outdone, Charles seized the moment, calling for a toast to the future with Russia. The crowd readily joined in, raising their glasses high in a symbolic gesture of unity. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation and excitement as the celebration continued.

When the cheers gradually died down, Henry's arm rose, silencing the room once more with a commanding presence. His voice took on a somber and enigmatic tone, laced with a mixture of reverence and melancholy. His eyes held a hint of mystery and gravity, like windows to a world burdened with the weight of history.

"Her Imperial Majesty has shared with me a haunting tale, a ritual that awaits her return to Russia. A tradition forged in the crucible of dark times, where the souls of the departed are revered and remembered," he began, his words hanging heavily in the air, each syllable dripping with emotion.

As the room hushed, a palpable shiver ran down the spines of those present, as the chilling atmosphere seemed to mirror the frigid landscape of the Russian tradition. The air was charged with a sense of solemnity, and the once vibrant celebration now seemed muted, overshadowed by the weight of the impending ritual.

"In the wake of the first blizzard, when the moon sits high in the sky, the entire country ventures out. Frozen red roses, like symbols of blood-stained sacrifice, are laid into the snow – each rose, a poignant reminder of a lost life, and groups of roses, a haunting tribute to shattered families torn apart by hardship and strife," Henry continued, his voice breaking slightly with emotion.

The room fell into a reverent hush, as the court members absorbed the gravity of the moment. There was a collective understanding of the significance of the tradition and the profound depths of its meaning.

"Now, we have prepared a path in the courtyard, where Empress Adieya is to head home to brace for this coming blizzard. However, before her departure, we shall honor her presence among us and the newfound alliance between our two great nations. Together, we shall partake in one of her most important and poignant traditions," Henry declared, his voice resolute yet tinged with a sense of sorrow for the fleeting moments of joy.

The mood in the room took on a darker and more somber tone, and the weight of the impending ritual seemed to weigh on everyone's hearts. Emotions swirled in the eyes of the guests – admiration for the Empress's resilience, respect for the tradition that bound her people, and a profound sense of unity with their foreign guests.

"In the courtyard, you shall find everything we need for this sacred rite – symbols of remembrance and unity. Let us pay our respects and mark this night with a solemnity befitting the occasion," Henry concluded, his voice carrying the burden of responsibility and the hope for a better future.

The air was thick with a sense of unity, tinged with reverence and a touch of vulnerability. They knew this was not just a farewell ball, but a night that would forever bind England and Russia, their destinies entwined in the shared moments of darkness and hope. The people rushed outside, drawn by the allure of partaking in a solemn act that could become their own.

As the court members made their way into the courtyard, Henry turned to Adieya and found himself captivated by her presence. The buzz of voices around him faded into the background, and he saw only her, her eyes glistening with tears of happiness and affection. In a sudden burst of emotion, she embraced him tightly, whispering a heartfelt thank you in his ear. It was a fleeting moment, but in that embrace, he felt the depth of her gratitude and the bond that had grown between them during her time at the English court.

The embrace was just as abruptly released as it began, and Adieya turned to her lady-in-waiting, Galina, with a warm smile. The two women shared a knowing look, a silent exchange of thoughts and emotions. With a nod of approval, they playfully rushed down the dais stairs, laughter trailing behind them like a sweet melody.

Henry watched them go, a mix of emotions swirling within him. He extended his arm to Eleanor, offering her a companionable gesture to join him in the courtyard. She rolled her eyes at his antics but took his arm nonetheless, the unspoken understanding between them woven through years of partnership and shared experiences.

Together, they followed the radiant Russian ruler and her lady, eager to partake in a tradition that held deeper significance than they could have imagined. As they stepped into the chilly Winter air, the courtyard was filled with anticipation, and the essence of mystery seemed to linger like a wisp of fog. The atmosphere crackled with excitement and a sense of unity, as both nations came together to share in this extraordinary moment. The night, once a simple farewell ball, had transformed into a celebration of the newfound alliance, marked by profound connections and unspoken promises that would forever bind England and Russia.

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In the cold, moonlit courtyard, the air was thick with a sense of solemnity as guards and servants held lanterns and torches, casting flickering shadows on the ground. The announcement of the royals' arrival prompted courtiers to part, giving way for the two rulers to walk side by side, their steps synchronized like a solemn dance.

Eleanor stood at a distance, flanked by two servants, one holding a single red rose, and the other, a jug filled with crimson wine. As they approached, Henry whispered in her ear, urging her to join her family in this tradition. The subtle tension in Eleanor's eyes was barely noticeable, but she obliged, stepping away without protest.

With a grace that held both strength and vulnerability, Adieya approached the servant with the single rose, a silent request to begin the ritual. The servant knelt and placed the first rose gently into the snow, and as he did so, a quiet wave rippled through the courtyard as hundreds of other servants followed suit, placing roses meticulously, each marking the resting place of a soul lost in the dark times of Russia.

Families that lived within the court were guided to their roses, and as they stood united, eyes turned towards the two rulers, awaiting an explanation of this foreign tradition. Henry, with a solemn nod, gestured to Adieya, giving her the floor to speak.

"Lords and Ladies, you have welcomed me with open arms into your country. To repay your kindness, here before you is part of my country's history," Adieya's voice rang out with a mixture of gratitude and sorrow, her words carrying the weight of a nation's struggles.

"In the dark times of Russia, two million of my people died – traitors, criminals, military personnel, and innocent souls alike. Two million lives sacrificed for a purpose – to forge a better Russia, to achieve peace," she continued, her voice quivering with emotion.

As she spoke, a servant brought forth the jug of wine, symbolizing the blood that had been shed during those harrowing times. Adieya's eyes searched the faces before her, acknowledging the pain and loss that had touched each life present.

"On this night, we pour red wine to honor the spilled blood, allowing families and individuals to mourn their losses openly, without opposition," Adieya explained, her words laced with a sense of reverence for the solemn ritual.

Moving gracefully to three roses laid out before her, she traced the stems delicately. Then, in a poignant gesture, she revealed a necklace adorned with red rubies, diamonds, and blue sapphires – a tribute to her family who had perished protecting their country.

With heartfelt words, Adieya spoke, "These roses are a representation of my family who died protecting their country. My brother Alexei was shot in the chest and bled out. My father fought violently against the smallpox virus. He refused to step away from his people even in his dying moments, signing one last document before the virus took him from this world. And for my mother who succumbed to the sickness only because the death of her husband was too much for her. But even she refused to leave her people, she too signed documents before her death, the first was a law and the second was a letter to the people."

With a mix of sorrow and determination, Adieya took the jug from the offering hands of the servant and poured the wine over the roses, watching the crimson liquid stain the pristine snow. Her head bowed in a brief prayer in Russian, a whispered plea for peace and remembrance.

Then, with a smile, she took the torch from the servant, setting the roses ablaze. The flames danced and flickered, casting an ethereal glow on Adieya's face as she stood there, a beacon of strength and resilience, embodying the spirit of her nation.

The courtyard seemed to hold its breath, embracing the powerful yet tender act of remembrance. The air was thick with the weight of history and the unspoken promise that, in this shared moment of grief and unity, England and Russia had forged an everlasting bond. As the roses burned, they released a fragrance that mingled with the scent of wine and the cold winter air, creating an unforgettable tableau of emotion, darkness, and hope.

In the quiet aftermath of the ritual, Henry stood by Adieya's side, giving her the space she needed to collect her thoughts. He could see the weight of her nation's history pressing down on her, and he wanted to offer comfort, but he knew she needed time to process the emotions stirred by the tradition.

"My people, think of your loved ones," Henry spoke, addressing the courtiers. "See their body through the rose, their blood through the wine, and your remembrance through the flame." He nodded, inviting them to participate in the poignant tradition that had left an indelible mark on their hearts.

One by one, people followed Adieya's lead, placing roses in the snow, pouring wine over them, and setting them alight. The courtyard became a mosaic of memories and emotions as families leaned on each other, finding solace in the shared experience of remembrance.

As the courtiers slowly made their way back into the castle to continue the festivities, only the royals remained. Eleanor, too conflicted by her own feelings, burned a rose for her lost son and left the courtyard in a mix of jealousy and distrust at a tradition that felt to close to witchcraft. Henry remained, drawn to the powerful act of remembrance, and he knew he would burn three roses for his brother, mother, and sister – the heartache of their losses still etched deep within him.

As he stood there, immersed in his grief, he felt a soft hand gently clasp inside his own. He recognized the touch, but he couldn't bear to face the person, keeping his gaze fixed on the burning roses. "Two million people," he whispered, his voice choked with disbelief and sorrow.

Adieya's voice was a soothing balm in the midst of his pain. "Yes, my country's past is not one of happiness," she replied softly, her words carrying the weight of history and the burden of leadership.

"I thought the War of Roses was big, but you... as a ruler, it must be hard for you to deal with those deaths," Henry admitted, finally turning to face the Russian Empress.

She sighed with a heavy heart, her eyes reflecting the depths of her experiences. "While the deaths happened before I was crowned, I still help those who were affected by their loved ones' deaths. It is difficult, but then you must move on. This tradition is the only time I allow myself to grieve for those lost," Adieya shared, her vulnerability mingling with her strength.

They both turned their attention back to the flames, watching as the rest of the roses were stained with wine and set aflame. A wall of fire stood before them, a powerful symbol of the emotions they both struggled to contain.

As the minutes passed, snow began to lightly fall, adding a soft and ethereal touch to the scene. Adieya's composure finally cracked, and tears streamed down her cheeks. Moved by her raw emotion, Henry pulled her into an embrace, offering comfort in the face of overwhelming grief. The hug was filled with every emotion they felt for one another – empathy, admiration, and a connection that transcended borders.

When they separated, they locked eyes, and in that intense gaze, something shifted within them. Their heads drew closer, and their lips met in a kiss that was pure and filled with love. It was a moment of vulnerability, a moment of surrendering to the emotions that had been building between them throughout their time together.

As their lips lingered, the courtyard faded away, and they were lost in each other. The fire within them burned brighter, fanned by the power of their connection. At that moment, they discovered that they were bound not just by the alliance of their nations but by a bond that defied reason and tradition.

The snow continued to fall gently around them, creating a magical backdrop for the unfolding romance. They held each other close, cherishing this newfound intimacy, and in that embrace, they knew that this night marked a turning point in their lives – a night where the fire of their passion had been ignited and would forever burn with an unquenchable flame.

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