by Nocte Luna » Wed Nov 30, 2016 3:10 pm
[If you're confused, read the above post. This I might turn into a story.]
The doors slammed shut behind the trio. Only the girl cared to notice. Her long black curls swished around her face, impeding her vision and making her believe there was something near the guard that stood, waiting attentively, by the large set of doors. When she got a clearer look, all she saw was the guard, dipping his head in respect to her. The young woman briefly nodded before turning back.
She began to take slightly longer and faster steps to catch up to the retreating footsteps of her parents. The walk back finished in silence, with only the quiet swish of black clothing on the floor accompanying the ringing peals of the soft shoes on the glossy floor. They arrived at the largest hall, the cloaked man finally relinquishing the older woman's arm from his supportive grip. Food was already laid out for breakfast, each meal prepared carefully according to the wishes of each diner.
Chairs were carefully pulled out by the wait staff; napkins floated into laps below and the meal began just as silently as the rest of the morning.
Partway through the first warmed potato, the older woman finally looked up. Her usually warm brown eyes looked darker and unhappy. Worry lines streaked across her face, scars that testified to her battle against her mind. The few grey hairs that dotted her head seemed more prominent as she picked at her food. Her face was still covered in tear tracks as she spoke.
"Please let us finish our meal in peace. Your father and I must discuss what this death means for our country and people."
"Of course." The younger woman bowed her head in respect. In seconds, the same napkin was plucked from her lap, the chair was pulled back gently, and the young woman set off to her room, a maid balancing her plate in one hand with her napkin, silverware, and water in the other hand.
It was a long walk back to her room, but it was much easier to take her black skirts in both hands as she climbed the stairs quickly, beginning to care less and less about looking proper. At the first floor, she stopped briefly, huffing and puffing to try and get air back into her lungs. Her corset felt just barely too tight, yet she plowed on until she finally made it too the second floor, walking two doors down on the right before entering.
The maid carefully placed her plate down, setting the glass of clear, clean water next to it. "My lady, if you would like to come sit down, I can take your plate when you are finished." The woman stated.
The girl was engrossed in her own thoughts, still standing by the door, but turned her head and made her way to her small dining table. Oftentimes this table was used to store her cups of hot cocoa during the frigid winter months, but rarely was it used for more than cocoa or the occasional teacup.
The maid carefully placed the napkin across the girl's lap once more, and the girl resumed eating. She was hungry and didn't hesitate to finish the entire meal in a short amount of time. Before long, the napkin disappeared and the girl was left alone with her thoughts.
She was not one to wander, but this was no trip with no destination in mind. The young woman strode out of the room, turning left and going to the first door on the right side of the second floor.
The room was different than her own, vastly different. But what struck her as the most odd was the scent that hung in the air, overpowering everything else. After a minute or so, she could barely stand the smell, coughing occasionally to rid her lungs of the stench. She covered her nose and left the room, leaving the door open just enough to allow the scent to drift out of the room.
"Princess? Princess Geneva?" The worried voice of the head of the castle's help rang out as he raced up the stairway, almost out of breath. "Your parents, my dear. They'll see you in The Royal Hall."
[Okay so this is kind of the part two?? Like it? Let me know. Got critique? Let me know.]
There is no such thing as random, there is always a probability of something, no matter how small or unlikely, happening.
