No Rest for the Wicked or Moral

[Nocte Luna]

Congratulations for finding your way here, whether you came here from a writing thread, a link from my signature, or just happened to click on this post because you wanted to read something, I'm glad you've found this story.

At first, it will be very vague. That's the intended effect, I promise. But you'll get to know the characters, setting, and plot as we make our way farther though this story.

I hope to update this with short chapters on every day I can possibly write (given that I have muse, time, and energy).

Each chapter will be given one post, and the next post directly after the chapter ends will be an author's note. I'll talk a little bit about what inspired me to write the chapter, maybe the sort of thing you can expect to see next, and possibly some bad jokes, depending on what kind of mood I'm in.

If you'd like to comment/praise/exalt/etc., feel free to post once both the chapter and author's notes are up. If you'd like to give feedback and critique, I'd prefer if you quoted the parts of the story you're critiquing and PM'ed the critique/feedback to me just so I can keep track of it.

I do not regularly update this chapter list, as it gets rather annoying to update daily. You can always click the link to the last chapter and then see if there are any more pages or posts.

Table of Contents
Chapter One
Author's Notes C1
Chapter Two
Author's Notes C2
Chapter Three
Author's Note C3
Chapter Four
Author's Note C4
Chapter Five
Author's Note C5
Chapter Six
Author's Note C6
Chapter Seven
Author's Note C7
Chapter Eight
Author's Note C8
Chapter Nine
Author's Note C9
Chapter Ten
Author's Note C10

[Nocte Luna]

It was silent. More than silent, really. It was the kind of silence that permeated the air, making everything feel thick and heavy. Any kind of noise seemed almost rude in lieu of the lack of sound. Yet the silence was unwelcome. Its existence was unworthy of comments by those who were naive enough to not know why silence ruled.

Of course, the drapes weren't helping. The tall glass windows that allowed light to stream through were blocked by large sheets that hung limply from the ceiling. The long curtains seemed to suffocate the room, trapping the people inside against cold stone floors that seemed void of life.

They sat there, heads bowed down towards the earth, long dresses and cloak making no sounds against the frigid rock below their bent knees and flattened feet. Hand clasped together, no words were uttered for half an hour. The sound of a slipper against the floor, shifting slightly, rendered their effort to remain completely silent useless.

"Amen," the cloaked man whispered. His word echoed around the room faster than a bird let from a cage.

"Amen," the women on his respective sides agreed, sending their words off in harmony with what remained of his phrase.

Their long black clothes rustled as they stood up, making their way up the steps of hall, beyond another set of long black curtains. The cloaked man laid a hand on the coffin that sat, waiting. The older woman of the two muffled a quiet sob. The younger woman looked away, tears beginning to form at her eyes.

"Goodbye." The cloaked man whispered, sending another bird off into the room, brushing the black drapes and stone walls.

"Goodbye." The women echoed, whispering even quieter. The harmony of their voices dissolved into silent tears.

Eyes closed as the trio turned around, the cloaked man holding his arm out for the woman. She accepted, and they slowly made their way out of the large room. The younger woman hesitated, then followed, tears streaking down her face as her dress dragged behind her.

[Nocte Luna]

Dear Reader,

If you haven’t already guessed by the end of this short piece, this is going to be setting based. Surprise, surprise! This influence of setting was influenced by Tess of the D’Urbervilles (Which I don’t recommend reading unless you’re on the AP English track or in college – it can be a tough read with some really heavy subjects) which draws from the setting and writes using a relatively similar narration type.

Part of suspense (which I’ve been trying to use more and more) is not giving away information easily. This, dear reader, is definitely suspenseful. Everything is vague and maybe a little foreign to you. That’s a good feeling for now! I don’t want to rush introducing my characters or setting, I think it will all come in time. I know you probably have a lot of questions, and they will be answered, but it will take some time.

Let me know if you enjoyed this by leaving a comment on the thread. For now, refrain from asking questions until I’ve had a chance to give you more context and background. If you’d like to critique, please send me a PM.

Love from,
Nocte Luna

[Nocte Luna]

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."

[Nocte Luna]

Dear Reader,

Now things are happening. I know, right? A little action is always exciting, even if it’s not really that action-packed. I promise, it’ll get better. By the way, the young woman has a name now! And some what of an appearance! And she has a title! (If you didn’t manage to catch them, check the first and last paragraphs).

I know I said last time that this will be setting based, but this is more action-packed, so it got a little harder to try and give more details about the setting. Trust me, what I have planned for next chapter will be very setting heavy. I’m going to be writing Chapter 3 in a few minutes after finishing up a bunch of things first, but it’ll be soon enough, I promise.

I hope you’re enjoying so far, please let me know below if you’re following along.

Love from,
Nocte Luna

[Nocte Luna]

As soon as she heard the breathless man's voice ringing out against the large, square-cut blocks of stone, Geneva flipped around, hair sweeping behind her as she began her long descent down the steps to the main floor of the building. The castle wasn't small by any means, with ten foot high ceilings on every floor. Naturally, every staircase felt like a climb up the mountains that resided less than three miles away from the castle on the north side.

By the time Geneva reached the main floor, she was thoroughly exhausted, and a hint of pink flushed her dark,warm cheeks. The messenger, a tall, lanky man with the palest skin the princess had ever seen, dipped his head and set off alongside her, taking slower steps to accommodate for Geneva's much shorter stride combined with her breathlessness from her descent down the staircase. The main floor itself was about twenty feet off the ground, where as the ceiling soared to close to sixty feet off the ground. This allowed Geneva to look out into the royal gardens as she swished her away around the walkway that allowed one to travel around the first floor without impeding on royal proceedings. Today especially, Geneva was glad for that stony walkway. She turned the corner and walked until she was in line with the formal entrance, the 50 steps leading to the chilled ground looking more inviting than usual.

The messenger brushed by her, signaling the stone-faced guards to open the wide double doors. The doors swung open, and the messenger announced, "Your Highness, I present your daughter, Princess Geneva Ederny." He bowed and stepped aside as Geneva strutted into the long room, taking exactly ten steps before curtsying and looking back up to her father.

"Thank you, Sir Cartain. You may leave us." The king waved his hand, dismissing the messenger. Geneva waited for the familiar sound of the door closing before walking the more than half the length of the Royal Hall and approaching her father.

"Father, I-" "Geneva, please." Her father stopped her words swiftly, which, in Geneva's mind, diminished all hope of her being able to speak.

"My dear, these last two days have not been easy on any of us. Your mother is distraught beyond belief. One of her two children has died. You are aware, as well as I, that her fertility has always been an object of concern. Yet she was still blessed to have two children. This is a devastating loss for her. I am aware that it is not easy, for you nor I to understand her or attempt to comfort her. There is no replacing what we have lost. Give her time and space so that she may recover. Offer her a hand to hold or a shoulder to cry on if she wishes. Most of all, be her daughter."

Geneva was shocked by her father's outright nature. It was unlike him to be so direct. Looking up to the banners and paintings of the other members of the royal family for inspiration, she took a second to think, then glanced back at her father.

"But what of the people? They know of nothing that has passed in these halls. I am sure that the servants who have gone to the market to buy products have told others of what transpired yesterday morning."

"I am well aware. That is why I have decided to hold a gathering here in half an hour. At that time, we will meet on the west side of the castle to speak about our loss. A majority of the royal messengers have gone into Marrford to tell the people to gather. Some are going beyond there and traveling to the southwest to tell the small logging towns, and a few beyond that have decided to go to the northwest to alert the coastal villages."

"That wide of a region?"

"Yes, we are declaring today a national day of mourning. My son has died. The country can stand at a halt for a moment to mourn his passing. As can you, my dear. You are to speak at the gathering and tell the people why he shall be missed. That would be your mother's duty, however, she is in no state to address the people." The king gave the young woman a serious look. With a small nod, she responded.

"I can do that, father. I will attend the gathering and speak." She tipped her chin up, lifting her dark brown eyes and looking into her father's matching eyes.

"Good. Prepare quickly. You have less than half an hour."

With a curtsy, Geneva hurried out of the room, mentally preparing herself for making a speech.

[Nocte Luna]

Dear Reader,

So we got some more description stuff in. I just finished working on re-designing the Castle at Marrford and the country it resides in, so I definitely really wanted to incorporate that into the setting based stuff this time around. Ideally I’d like to do what I did for the first chapter again at some point, and I was hoping I could accomplish that with this chapter, but I think I’ll have to wait until next chapter.

This ended up being very dialogue driven, which honestly, I’m fine with. I don’t tend to write a whole lot of dialogue, so I’m glad this chapter ended up being so heavily reliant on it.

I’m still not really looking to give away a whole lot of information at one time, but I hope you’re getting a better mental image of Geneva and the castle she lives in.

When I originally designed the castle, it was laid out a lot differently, but I realized I had forgotten a whole bunch of really important things and had to redesign it. I do have a rough sketch that I’m constantly reffering to, but mostly, just know it’s a big, square-cut grey stone castle, and the first floor is elevated and has a walkway wrapping around the entire first floor. I’ll put more stuff about the castle later, because I just really like picturing such a huge building.

As for Geneva, there’ll be more and more details about her later, and maybe even an image of who I think really captures who she is as a person, at least physically.

By the way Hamilton fans, did you catch my reference?

Let me know if you’re following the story, what you like about it below, and I’m also willing to answer questions if I know they won’t pertain to the plot in the future.

Love from,
Nocte Luna

[Nocte Luna]

Once again, Geneva made the trek up the staircase to her room. As she passed the first door on the right, she heard the sound of someone moving around, rustling the sheets and blankets. For half a second, the girl thought it was her brother. Confusion drove her to open the glossy white door, stopping once she saw a maid stripping the bed of sheets. In that moment, she lost some of her self-control, emotions getting the better of her.

"Stop that! Stop that right now!"

The maid jumped in surprise, having been fully immersed in her work just seconds ago. She took a breath, and with a worried expression and a slightly hurried curtsy, she responded.

"My lady, I give you all due respect, however I believe that -" Geneva cut her off. It was selfish, but the tirade of emotions washed over her, and the riptide of sadness pulled her farther away from a more logical state.

"Leave it all here. Leave everything the same. No one is to enter or change anything until my parents or myself have given permission."

With a bow and hurried footsteps, the maid left. A few seconds later, Geneva followed, shutting door gently and leaning against it. She closed her eyes, trying not to let tears form and coat her eyelashes.

Taking a deep breath, she looked up once again, looking down the long hallway. She hadn't realized it before, but it was now completely apparent. Geneva was the only one who lived on the right side of the second floor. The rest of the rooms were meant to be for her siblings, who didn't survive past the age of one. Now, her brother, who had lived to 23, was among her siblings.
She stared down the hallway, her revelation echoing in her mind. The end of the hallway seemed farther away than ever.

Realizing how much time she had wasted, Geneva made her way to her room to make herself look presentable.
Sitting down at the large mirror, Geneva carefully wiped her face with a warm, damp cloth to reduce the puffiness around her eyes. Using a black, coal like substance, she lined her eyes. Finally, she covered her lips in a creamy red substance to help draw attention from her eyes, which still were streaked with red veins.

Figuring it was about time to leave, Geneva made her way down the staircase. Servants draped long, black strips of fabric around the banister of the stairway, while others covered the small glass panels that showed the landscape outside.

Finally, Geneva found her way to the walkway that lined the main floor. Walking closer to the railing that lined the elevated path, she glanced down at the gardens below. White carnations, forget-me-nots, and rhododendrons were being watered. Geneva desperately wanted to stop and forget her speech all together, but she carried on.

Once she turned so she was on the west side of the castle, she noticed small streams of people drawing closer to the balcony where all royal announcements were made. Her mother was already waiting nearby, a servant trying to coax some water into her system. The servant turned and bowed to Geneva, finally becoming convincing enough to the queen.

A few moments of silence followed. The quiet rumble of footsteps approaching grew louder and louder, until the people were waiting. Guards boxed in the crowd and accompanied the king as he made his way from the throne to the balcony. He made his way forward, followed closely by Geneva and the queen.

“Beloved citizens, what message our representatives bring is true. Prince Devon Ederny, next in line for the throne, and our cherished son, has died at age twenty-three, as of early yesterday morning. For the nation, this is a shocking tragedy. In light of this horrific event, today will be declared a nation day of mourning. We wish to give all time to recover.” The king glanced towards the princess, motioning for her to step forward. Geneva took careful steps, finding her place at the center of the balcony. She felt like she was suspended over the people.

“For Prince Devon, my brother, a small service was held this morning. This evening, he will be buried in the royal graveyard. Both service and funeral are private events. Therefore, we will honor him as a nation together now.” Geneva took a deep breath to hold back the tears that threated to spill from her eyes.

“My brother was a kind man. He was always honest, always well loved. I am sure you know of his frequent visits into the city. He was quick to make conversations. Perhaps some of you even had the pleasure of talking with him. He was well-spoken but spoke to everyone as if they were equals. Though my father is a great ruler, all anticipated Prince Devon as being one just as great, if not better. His sudden death is a great tragedy to all.”

Geneva stepped back, and once again her father stepped forward.

“As the only remaining child in the family, Princess Geneva Ederny is declared next in line for the throne. Should I chose to step down, her coronation date will be announced in the future.”

The king stepped away, leaving nothing but silence and sad expressions behind. Geneva and her mother turned, following the king back to the throne room. The king held out his hand to the queen, and she accepted, allowing him to comfort her.

Geneva was left alone. Approaching the balcony, she looked out into the gardens once again. The cold snap that had sent shivers across the kingdom had barely touched the delicate petals below. As she watched the gardeners work, she wondered how they had survived. Perhaps the flowers had become accustomed to the cold. The mountains were only a few miles away, it seemed to make sense.

Geneva retreated from leaning against the railing, letting her feet take her where ever they pleased.

[Nocte Luna]

Dear Reader,

Did you know I don’t actually proofread any of these before I post them?

Whoops. Don’t be afraid to point out any little errors you find in my work via PM, it makes fixing them a lot easier.

I hope you’re enjoying the story. I promise it only picks up from here. What I have planned for the next chapter will hopefully help get the story rolling a little more. You’ve still got tons of characters to meet and lots to learn about Geneva.

Not only that, but I’ll probably make some images to show you all how the palace is laid out. That might help clarify some things and make finding where Geneva is a lot easier.

As usual, please let me know if you’re following the story below, send all critiques by PM, and post any questions you have below.

Love from,
Nocte Luna

[Nocte Luna]

Later that day, when the winter chill begins to creep into even the warmest home, the trio was found trailing behind the long wooden coffin that held their beloved family member. The family stood by the freshly dug grave, speaking of their loss. Many tears were shed as the moon rose over the top of the mountains.

As the evening grew chillier and the trio grasped their warm, fur-lined cloaks tighter to their bodies, various members of the royal family joined the three, giving words of support and mourning. The duke and duchess of Marrford told of their people’s delight when the prince came to visit. From the south, the Cabernale family visited, leaving their forested retreat in lieu of the events that had come to pass. Representing the valley in the east, the rather sweet yet strange Vaelie representatives said their goodbyes. Arriving the latest were the delegates from the northwestern lake, promising to send any extra assistance, should the king or his family require such things.

It was all very sad, and left no one feeling better.

Before the coffin was lifted and the set carefully into the ground below, it was opened one last time. The king pleaded softly with the queen, begging her to look at her soon one last time.

“Cara, please. This will be the last time you will his body. Paintings will not do him justice. Before you regret it, just one look. One look is all, my dear.”

The only response he received was a loud sob, punctuated by soft pleading from the king and, “Thomas, please…” in response. The king took his wife’s hand and walked her farther away, closer to the gardens. Geneva turned slightly, watching the older woman collapse against her husband, her pale face glistening in the moonlight with her tears streaming down her face.

Geneva turned back, choking back a sob. Gingerly, she opened the coffin, staring at her brother’s body for a second before she began to lose her composure. Pulling her handkerchief out of her dress, she wiped her eyes. “Close it.” She ordered, not able to bear looking even once more. She heard the coffin shut and began to walk away through the darkness. Only a moment later, she heard footsteps rushing up behind her.

“My lady, wait!” The voice called, floating out of the darkness. Geneva shivered, not with cold but with fear, regretting wandering off into the darkness. Her anxiety heightened as the wind whistled through the trees, sounding like a ghostly figure. She whipped around, searching for something other than the glowing moon in the darkness. Her heart rate began to increase, sound of what felt like ghosts closing in made her breath more heavily as she turned again in panic.

“My lady! Where are you?” the voiced echoed again, but much closer this time.

“I’m here,” Geneva responded, almost breathless from her previous moment of panic.

A couple seconds later, the guard whose voice accompanied the hurried feet appeared in her vision.

“My lady, your father sent me after you, he feared you would get lost in the darkness.”

“Oh. Who are you, then?”

“Captain Blakely, my lady.”

The name was familiar to Geneva, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on where she had heard it before. Turning back towards the castle, she marched onward, listening for the footsteps following her once more. Finally, the name struck a chord with her. About six months ago, Captain Blakely had been appointed as one of the youngest Head of Guards the nation had ever seen. His strong leadership skills and ability to think many steps ahead of potential threats made him one of the best options for the Head of Guards.

“Pardon me, my lady, but I believe there is a faster way to the castle.” His words broke Geneva’s train of thought, throwing her back into reality.

“Oh? And which way would that be?”

“If we cut through the gardens, the distance we have to travel is shorter. Going around the gardens means we come out on the west side, which has no entrance, meaning we still have to walk to one of the other staircases.”

“Very well, then. Lead the way.”

The duo turned slightly, finally leaving the graveyard. Instinctively, Geneva looked behind her into the graveyard, looking for any ghostly figures. She saw none, and closed the gate, shivering out of fear more than anything.

“My lady, is the wind getting too cold?”

“No, Captain. I am fine.” Geneva said firmly. With almost anyone else, Geneva would have flirted a little, telling her companion how cold she was. However, something about Captain Blakely struck Geneva as odd. She wasn’t very fond of him for reasons she couldn’t quite put her finger on.

Soon enough, they arrived back at the castle, climbing the staircase and making their way back to the walkway, where torches lined the walls, providing heat and light in the winter darkness.

“Do you require an escort back to your room, princess?” Captain Blakely asked, features looked distorted as the light danced across his face.

“No, Captain. I can find my way back on my own.” Geneva responded, turning on her heel and making her way down the walkway to the staircase.

No one was upstairs except for her, and at such a late hour, she didn’t wish to bother any of the help, who were asleep and deserved to get some good rest.

The young woman unlaced her corset, finally able to breathe properly, and slipped off her long, black dress. The cloak she abandoned on a chair with the large skirt that accompanied the dress. Geneva put out the torches in her room, leaving only a single candle to burn.

That night, Geneva was restless, haunted by dreams and thoughts of her brother. The most haunting one of all was full of screaming – by whom, Geneva did not know – that ended in Devon reaching out to her, their fingers meeting for half a second before some unknown force ripped the siblings apart. Both brother and sister were falling into oblivion, the ground rushing up to meet them.
Geneva jerked awake, sitting up right away out of panic. The sudden movement caused her head to spin and she fell back against the pillows, thoroughly exhausted.

The sound of running footsteps and urgent knocking on her door made the young woman groan.

“My lady, are you alright? Please let us enter!” The guard outside seemed rather panicked, so Geneva allowed him to enter to investigate.

“My lady, we heard screams from downstairs, are you alright?”

“I am fine, I promise. Just a bad dream.”

The guard nodded, bowed, and left, leaving Geneva alone to flop back down underneath the warm covers. Glancing at the room, it had already been cleaned and re-organized. Everything besides her bed was perfect, neat, and tidy.

For a few minutes, she laid in bed, finally getting a moment of rest before another busy day began.