“You never answered me?” Drych suddenly enquires. “You appeared to be upset when you came to me.” His eyes drop to the tea cup she held in her hands, silently counting how much sugar she added. It was the perfect amount for him and he knew she generally didn’t like her tea that sweet. Selfishly he supposed the cup was for him, but waiting he didn’t want to be rude. Licking his lips once again and turning his gaze elsewhere, he eagerly waits for her answer, her explanation. Marybell had been upset when she brought out the pastries and tea as well, perhaps something had happened between them. Dread fills Drych’s chest as he tries to distract himself from the true question that needed answers. Desperately he clawed at the inside of him mind for any kind of subject change, though he didn’t want to appear to be intrusive by asking her hundreds of questions in a row. In spite of his aversion to asking her questions about herself, he didn’t want them to fall into silence.
Whatever had happened between them made Drych unable to stand the silence. The content sound had rose to deafening thrumming and he hated it. The pounding in his temples and right behind his eyes made the silence worse. Leaving his mind to fill the void with imaginary sounds such as his own heartbeat. Vowing silently to himself, Drych decided that he would listen to anything she had to say as long as he didn’t have to listen to his own blood pumping in his veins, his own heart.
“I would like to know, the two of you were acting strangely when I first saw you.” He pressed, his delicate pale fingers twisting around the handle of his teacup to bring it to his lips. Tenderly he tastes the last of his tea before setting the empty cup aside.
[b There's no worry] she quickly pulled her hand back afraid she may have offended him by her action. Their relationship was quite complicated now. Exactly just what was their relationship, non could accurately say. She looked down at his tea cup, seeing he had only poured a single spoonful of sugar into its porcelain trumpet. Pressing her lips together she reached over the small white table and took the other, empty cup. Lifting the small lid with her thumb and forefinger, she scooped two and a half lumps of sugar. Soon after, she poured the tea, a light translucent coco colored broth quickly dissolved the small sugar crystals below. Fresh steam bellowed from the spout and over the top of the brewing liquid. Gently with a silver tea spoon, she stirred till perfectly dissolved. Looking forward she made eye contact with the Drych, almost as if requesting permission to switch the tiny delicate cups. She knew he liked his tea lightly sweetened, and knew his current cup was simply to bitter for his taste.
When she heard him speak further her eyes lowered focusing on the clean, white dishes that lay next to untarnished silver ones. She was not sure what to make of his statment. Was he trying to protect her? Was he meaning he wanted things between them to happen as naturally as possible? Or was the ides of his words the complete opposite and he was trying to keep from moving forward. Alina filled the remaining cup with more tea and quickly took a sip to calm her nerves. She was lost for words. Deep down, she didn't know what her feelings meant, and definitely didn't know how she wanted to go about exploring it.
Looking past him, she took in the view of the garden that he took particular care off. She had spent a good amount of time walking the grounds, making sure everything was intact. No weeds growing between red and grey cobblestone walkways, perfectly watered roses and trimmed greenery. It was the most peaceful time of day for her and part of her felt like hiding amungst the flowers. [b I'll make sure to think fully of my decision, I won't take it likely, trust in me my lord....]
Leaning away from her slightly, as through stuck by the grim reminder that she would be giving him the answer to that fateful question. He licked his lips and flinched, his hand tightening around hers. Carefully he brings her fingers to his lips and kisses them. Apologizing for his sudden withdrawal. His small world tilted dramatically, giving him the fresh new perspective of upcoming despair and loneliness. Deep down in his heart, in the very bottom of his heart where his blood recycled itself, he knew that she would go. Alina wasn’t stupid, far from it in fact, she had a chance to change the entire fate of the kingdom and war by going. If she didn’t go the chances that thousands of innocent people would die. Lifting his hand, he releases himself from her grasp and picks up a cooling custard tart. Arching his right eyebrow at the glazed pastry, he studies it before bringing it to his lips. The sugar in the dough coated his tongue and protected him against the split second sour bite to the tart. He wondered why she liked them so much. They would good, he thought to himself taking another bite of the tart he’d selected, but they weren’t overly perfect like his strawberries or perhaps. They were better however than the undercooked pastries he’d had for desert the other day. How far away that day seemed now, like a distant memory floating away on a coastal tide.
“I hope you don’t take offense to my actions.” He suddenly says formally, his voice deep and far away. “I don’t want you to follow me blindly, I also don’t want to complicate things further.” His words cut his flesh harshly. Blinking slowly, he fights the tears of youth threatening to fall. “I can’t…” he paused again before continuing. “I don’t want to ignore the feelings between us.” For the first time in his adult life, Drych found himself floundering for words to describe their situation. It sounded similar to a bad break-up line.
“As for you answer.” He attempts. “I still need you to consider it longer. For the both of us.”
His voice deepened in tone as he read he'd out to touch her. Tentatively she reaches to touch the top of his smooth, perfectly groomed hand. Her fingers finally finding the top of his hand, then his knuckles, before boldly fitting them in the spaces between his own long fingers. Holding tightly she nodded her head, eyes peering low as her heart races furiously in her breast. If it wasn't for the sound of humming wings from bees, or the chirping of near by birds, the silence between them in this small move to would have been deafening. Her eyes once again met his and she leaned her cheek into his hand for a small amount of time. She was afraid to tell him her answer, knowing the pain it would cause the both of them. However, both know she would be best suited for the role.
[b Lilium Casablanca....from the genus Lilium....meaning devotion, as well as motherhood.] The young woman paused. She took the time to educate herself on many of the flowers his majesty took fond to. More so than that, she too found herself enthralled in the beauty of flowers and their meanings. A soft curve of her lips trailed upwards at his gaze. His full lips now just inches from her own. She wondered what it would feel like to have his feather like lips press against her skin. It was the first time the young woman had ever given thought to a physical action such as a kiss. His eyes held hers for what seemed to be an eternity. Visions from the night before flooded her head. The way his deep, ebony hair feel past his well defined shoulders. How the light shined against his perfectly contoured chest, and how his lips felt pressed against her rose sented hair.
Physical attraction had taken over Alina''s good judgement, as she was sure his own also followed suit. [b You could break 1000 promises and I would still follow you wherever you lead....I've made my decision, I'll let you know later on tonight, but for now, let us pretend that the world is just the two of us, surrounded by naure and it's beauty.] The sun was high, the earth below beginning to hit its max temperature's for the day. A cream colored sundial sat across the pair, it's sole hand a black iorn. The shadow which was casted read somewhere between 3 and 4 in the afternoon. As the sun moved across the sky, it bounced off the silver thread of Alina''s gown. Shimmering in the afternoon light, it's light reflected off her powder white skin, acting as a natural glow.
In that moment while watching her devour her little tart the sun struck him a certain way. His perfect garden glowed in the midmorning, the roses spread their petals wider, soaking up every drop from the sun. Turning his head slightly he allowed himself to be distracted by the stretching petals and leaves. Between the cracks of his multicolored cobblestones, small startup blades of grass try to get a taste of the forgiving sun. Drych takes a deep breath and upon exhaling the wind sways the tamed rose bushes. As the wind subsides the roses still and their light green leaves curl toward the sky, silently begging with their large perfect petal faces for rain. Her plea brings him back to reality.
“I can’t promise you anything.” Drych finally answers, taking a sip from his cooling tea. He’d all but forgotten that the small cup in front of him contained tea. Part of him was disappointed at what it did contain. Listlessly he taps his fingers on the white table between them. When she sighs Drych’s eyes scan over her body, watching her snow colored flesh rise and fall with her breath, her bust swelling and then receding like the tide. Gently Drych chases the taste of tea with his tongue.
“Lilies,” He changes the subject effortlessly. “the flower of birth, depending on what kind you’re talking about they could also be the flower of the Virgin Mary, and friendship.” He muses, speaking the little fact to himself, as though reminding himself that’s what the traditional use of lilies were. He’d dropped his eyes from her dress and chest to the white table. He watched a small beady black fly crawl toward the bowl of sugar, a tiny brown aunt searches with a single bent antenna.
“They’re gorgeous, in their own beautiful trumpety way.” He murmurs. His eyebrows knit together before his eyes finally snap back to her own. Slowly, apprehensively he reaches across the table toward her, offering her a tender touch.
“I don’t want to break a promise to you, that is why I can’t make that promise to you. I doubt that you ever not be useful to me, I doubt that I will never not need you.” He leans toward her subconsciously, speaking conspiringly in a low voice.
Alina watched his hands as they moved with perfection. A silver try was brought to her attention. When they lid was finally lifted, an assortment of creamy custard tarts unveiled themselves to her. A small smile graced her lightly pink lips. He had listened and had made her most favorite dessert. [b For my birthday, once a year, Marybell will make me a single tart. It's one of my favorite days of the year.] She paused at the mention of her mothers name. She felt horrible for acting the way she did, yet it seemed like her mother didn't care about her feelings, just what everyone else thought. Tentatively, Aline reaches for one of the creamy sweet pastries. Bringing it to her lips she cautiously takes a bite. Nodding in approval, she takes another, finishing the small dessert.
His words brought her back from her dream like state. Food was always one of those things that would easily break her concentration. With his statement, she filled her lungs with cool fresh air. As this happened her bust rose from the compression of her corset. Letting go, she made an audible sigh and looked to her side. The view of the garden was beautiful. Light passed through the tree tops, casting rays of golden light across the grass and is floral arraignments. [b I was just reminded of a harsh truth. Promise me something my lord] She leaned forward, shoulders back and her eyes pleading for his commitment to her plea. [b If I ever become a burden, to you, this castle, or our people, for any such reason, you will set me aside] As these words were spoken her heart dropped to her stomach. She wanted so much to be at his side. He was her constant, her comfort, her stability.
She didn't press this matter any farther, not wanting to ruin the short time they had with each other. In her mind she had already made her decision on weather or not to leave. The would do what was needed to be done for her people, and her king. [b Lilies are my favorite flower, the kind that look like stars when they bloom. Snow white, or striped with petal pink]
Alina may have been able to hide the pain if the king had not already been tipped off my Marybell’s cold approach and the waves of stone storming away from her. Drych’s dark eyebrows pull together as he looks at her. She had applied new make-up to her face, lined her eyes with coal carefully. In spite of her efforts to hide it, he could tell she’d been crying in the half hour they hadn't been together. Licking his full pale lips, he chases the fading taste of tea. Tenderly he leans forward and lifts the lid of the other silver platter. Custard tarts are piled on top of each other, carefully glazed with a sweet nearly clear drizzle. They still steamed lightly from being under the protective covering of the lid. Silently he watches her face, a soft curve to his lips never faltering. He leans back in his white chair and withdraws his hand, setting the lid down on the other side of the table. Taking the sugar spoon leaning against a small bowl of sugar, he spoons a lump into his bitter tea.
“What have I missed?” He questions lightly, stirring his tea with an absent turning of his wrist. The sun filters through the pale umbrella making a grey shadow over them. When he returns his gaze to her, he is taken by how the dress clings to her and shows off what he’d refused to see before. Last night’s events had changed everything, changed how he felt about her and how he saw her. He was stunned at his own ability to ignore that she’d grown up right in front of him. How close they had grown though they remained so far away from one another.
In the kitchen Marybell bumped into Emma, well rather Emma entered the kitchen as Marybell intended to leave it. She was no longer needed here so she was moving on to take care of the flowers in the second-floor hall. She gives a small yelp as Emma looks up at her shyly.
“Oh! Emma darling, what are you doing here? Have you finished with bringing the guards their lunch?” Marybell beings questioning the young maid. The older woman starts to wipe her hands on her apron, needing the nerves to be busy always. Emma looks down just as quickly as she’d looked up. She nods intensely before looking back up at Marybell, noticing the older woman to be shaken and appearing to be agitated.
“What’s wrong Marybell?” Emma asks, stepping aside as the older woman starts to impatiently push passed her. Nearly running to keep up with her, Emma follows a new tail to some gossip. The young maid was heading to the kitchen to finally tell the cook of what she’d seen, being only nineteen and childish she was still excited by castle gossip, especially if it pertained the king.
“Nothing darling, finish your duties then come back to me. I need you to fish dust from my window.” Marybell waves the young girl away. Taking the hint quickly, Emma spins on her heels and nearly runs back to the kitchen. The cook is whirling batter for a desert in a large wooden bowl. With a sharp scraping noise, the wooden spoon causes chills to race down Emma spine. Barely above a whisper, she calls the cook’s name. He in turn tilts his head just enough to let her know he is listening, not letting the spoon’s rhythm falter. Emma turns her back to him and picks up basket of snap peas. She places the basket down on the counter opposite the cook and his whirling wooden spoon. With her back to him she starts to chat nonchalantly. She is careful not to mention any names, lest they be overheard there is no proof she was talking about their adviser and king.
“Have you heard?” She questions the cook’s back, then waiting for a moment continues; taking his silence as a no. “An adviser was seen sneaking out of a king’s chambers.” Her voice takes on a girlish charm as she recounts the event, careful not to mention her own name in the gossip. “Someone saw the adviser in the king’s bed, wearing nothing but blankets. How could someone commit such a sinful act?” Emma comments.
Keeping her deft fingers working the snap peas just as Marybell and the cook had taught her, Emma finishes her tale. She picks up the basket of finished snap peas and begins to dump the lot in a pan of clean water. She dips her hands in the cool water to moisten them before taking the pot over to the fire where it would be easier to move later when dinner would be served. Glancing up at the cook for the first time since beginning her tale she faces the man’s saucer-sized eyes and pale features. Clearly, he had not heard and the news was shocking to him. Wordlessly Emma shrugs and then wipes her hands on her own apron, she leaves quickly after that. Not wanting to be seen by a guard or anyone else for that matter.
Alina watched the older woman's back as she left the room. Both her arms wrapped around the stiff sides of her corset. She had to get herself together, she knew she was late. In all her years, she had only been late a few times in her early years as an adviser, something she quickly learned to never be. Pressure built upon her buckling knees as she stood herself up from the hand scraped wood floors. Moving to a silver tarnished mirror, Alina softly touched her swollen puffy eyes. If her mothers words wernt enough to fuel her insecurities her appearance at this very moment sent her over the edge. Quickly her feet rushed her to a small oak box, gold and silver inlays covered the top with beautiful white blooming lilies. Opening the lid and setting it aside. In side the handmade box were small jars, one filled with a thick white paste, the other a rose colored lacquer. A small horse haired brush, with a polished handle matching the darkly colored oak. Dipping the hairs in the white paste, she covered teh redness of her eyes. With a stick of black charcoal she lined her eyes. [b That's as good as I'm going to look] She sighed before exiting her room and making her way through the servants halls to the back garden entrance.
Light shined down on the plush green blades of grass. Bushes filled with thick luscious blooms filled the garden with small birds and bugs pollinating their seeds. A dark figure sat in an elegantly white chair. A scrolled back matched the curved feet below. Taking a breath, she tried to keep the events from earlier hidden away, deep inside herself. [b My Lord, forgive me for my tardiness] She bowed, her silver embroidered bodice gleamed against the onix color of her tightly bound corset. Gently, she sat herself in the matching chair next to him. Her heart still heavy from the argument with her mother. Slowly her eyes gazed to his, afraid that me might see the pain she carried. However, her eyes were caught by his curious gaze. She smiled tenderly feeling soothed by their presence.
Emma kept her pace up quickly as she was about to reach teh kitchen doors when she ran into straight Marybell. Air escaped her lungs as she was pushed back. [b Im sorry, I wasnt paying attention, I.are, are you alright Marybell?]
Marybell had never intended to hurt Alina in such a way. The harsh emotion on the young girl’s face cut through the wall between them. Quietly Marybell shed a single tear before stand silently and moving passed the crumpled girl. The door opened silently for her as she exited. Hot fat tears streamed down Marybell’s face as she crossed under the main hall of the castle via servant’s tunnels. She found herself stepping out of the hidden panel in the kitchen. There the cook glanced up at her, barely seeing her while in a flurry to prepare for the king’s tea party. Checking her reflection in a silver pan, Marybell wiped the tears from her own flushed cheeks and gathered herself. Within minutes of the incident, she’d pulled enough of herself together to serve tea and preform her other daily duties. Tenderly Marybell had watched Alina grow, helped cultivate her to be a proper lady and taught her everything she knew. Marybell was there when womanhood had finally hit Alina and she was there guiding her with soft worn hands into her first corset. Marybell had taught Alina her first simple hairstyle and then watched as she took on her own appearance, her own likeness to a woman she’d never met. Breathing in deeply, with two silver platters in her hand, and with her back to a swinging door; she fought to regain complete control over herself. Sniffling once, she presses her weight against the door and exits the kitchen into the bright perfect garden. Green is the most common color, splashed with vibrant pinks, purples, and reds. Every shade of the rainbow reaches toward the sky and higher. Rumor said that the garden was originally intended to be Drych’s mother’s, but she’d never lived long enough to see the first rose bush bloom. Since his birth Drych had been obsessed with perfect flowers, the obsession quickly growing into an all-consuming passion for perfection in general. This unwavering quality made him deadly.
Drych carefully arched a perfect bloom toward his lips. He acted as though he were sniffing it to taste it. Marybell watched him silently, caught in the beauty of his face and the background the garden had provided. Even in her age she couldn’t help but be taken by his beauty, he himself was perfect in so many ways that he made it effortless. Stooping lightly and gracefully, she sets the platters on the table, she lifts the cover to reveal a white ceramic tea kettle and cups complete with matching saucers. Each piece in the set was heavily decorated in creeping vines and tiny bright flowers. The gold and silver lining of the vines and flowers made the feminine set more masculine. Wordlessly Marybell pours him a cup of tea, working to keep the pained expression from creeping onto her face. Once her simple task of serving him tea was finished she bowed and stood aside. The pastries remained covered on the other platter as to prevent bugs and keep them warm. A long minute of silence passes between servant and king as he samples the tea. Satisfied with the tea he gestures toward her with the wave of his hand, sending her away to finish whatever she had to. Quick strides carry Marybell back to the swinging door of the kitchen as Drych watches her leave. He could sense the urgency in her with a wolf-like knowing. Something had happened and he wanted to know what. Patiently he sips his tea again, letting the hot dark liquid burn his throat. For a moment, he wishes the tea were something else, something stronger and that burned his throat with every sip. Wanting alcohol before midday was a bad habit to be forming, he knew that, but he couldn’t help but wanting it.
Around him yellow and black bees buzzed lazily from one massive bloom to the other. The light summer breeze kept the sun cool when it wasn’t shyly peeking at him from behind clouds. The hour grew longer as he waited for her. Absently he wondered what had happened to make her so late, the pounding in his head subsided with every sip from his teacup.
Alina quickly stopped what she was doing after her mother had brought up her status. Her eyes lowered and the spark that once shined brightly dimmed. Never in her young life would she have thought Mary bell would have referred to her past in such a hurtful demeaning manner. Looking away, warm tears fled her eyes and dropped down her reddening cheeks. She had spoken of the very insecurities that had haunted her since her childhood.
"My name? What name mother? According to you I have no name, so it shouldn't be a problem for you if he decided to bed me!" Her words slid through her teeth like a hiss and she quickly moved away from her mother's tough. "Because apparently to you, I'm just some orphan with no title!" Emotions ran heavily and twisted tormentedly within the young girls heart. She would expect such words from the King, but from Marybell?
"I really don't care if they have noticed or not. I've worked hard for my position, I sacrifice everything for that man and he understands that! While others gossip I clean up the mess, while others cower in fear, I boldly step into fire, no wonder he has my trust, because he cannot trust any of you!!" She finally screamed before falling to her knees in emotional fatigue. "If he wishes to have me....he can have me. And if he wishes to throw me aside he can do that. I've had a beautiful life because of your monster you think he is. He's waiting for me, so you better hurry this conversation before I walk out of it...."
“Alina have you forgotten that he’s a tyrant? He’s not a child and certainly not your friend! He’s also a young man! He should be taking noble women to his bed, not his adviser: a girl he found in his garden with no status.” Marybell could see the hurt in Alina’s eyes the moment she spoke the words. She couldn’t stop the angry waterfall of emotions. She was proud of her daughter for not “sleeping” with the king, but she was concerned for her safety. Her decisions affected all in the castle. Alina had lucked out this time, he didn’t want anything from her except a companion, but what about next time? What if he had wanted that from her? What if she had refused, what if she hadn’t?
“He is the cruelest king this kingdom has ever had!” Marybell hisses. Her heart thrummed heavily against her ribs and corset. Unshed tears stung her eyes as she watched her daughter despair. The overly protective mother in her cried in agony to see her daughter hurt so; she regretted that she was the cause of that pain.
“Alina,” Marybell said softer, moving closer to place her hand on Alina’s back. “I know you know all of this, but this mistake goes against everything I have taught you. It goes against everything you have learned here. I’ve raised you to be a lady and a lady is never alone in a king’s bedroom unless she wants to bring shame upon her good name and gain power.” Marybell moves to the slim edge of the bed and sits. On the other side of the door and walls servants lean heavily, listening in and soaking up every syllable.
“The servants have already begun to talk, gossip will quickly spread outside of these walls. It doesn’t matter how innocent the night was. Others will twist your words. Do you understand what you’ve done?” Marybell questions quietly. So quietly the servants listening in didn’t hear her through door and walls.
“He’s been uncommonly good to you, others have noticed that.”
[b Mother stop!] She demanded finally finishing dressing herslef. She understood where her mother was coming from, however the interrogation was fat more than the woman could handle. Walking over to her bed , she sat on its edge and covered her face with her hands. She didn't want to speak to Marybell on what had happened between her and the king the night before. She didn't want her mother knowing their intimate details.
Finally she looked up at the ceiling, salty tears built up in her deep colored eyes. [b He didn't touch me. Not in that way, so you can rest assured I'm still holy in that manner] Clearing her throat she stood again. In a small wooden drawer held 8 white waxed candles. Quickly with haste, she begun to replace that which was starting to fade. [b I have forgotten nothing Mother, I know exactly who he is. I'm the one at his side every morning and every evening. He's.....he's my friend, and I owe him everything ]
She didn't like the way Marybell was speaking to her. Deep down she knew it was because she loved her, and didn't want to see her baby get hurt. [b I appreciate your concern for me...I do, however what did happen last night, was meant to be shared between he and I. If you wish to find out, ask him youself. However I don't want to talk about it. You know, I was really happy before you had to question me like what I did was wrong]
Marybell entered the room in a rush, the door shut loudly behind her. She watched her adopted daughter gather a flashy gown. She also watched her pick out a new clean slip to change into. Marybell’s already wide blue eyes widened further. She was fully aware that Alina was a grown woman, but her decisions affected everyone and everything in the castle, whether she knew that or not was a mystery to Marybell. Just in case she didn’t, Marybell had a strong-willed opinion to remind her of that. In the years that Marybell had worked at the castle she had become everyone’s mother or aunt, a few of the older servants considered her a sister and dear friend. The king seemed to enjoy having her around, even asking her opinion on outfits every once in a while.
“Alina, have you forgotten everything I have taught you?” She harshly questions Alina’s back. Politely she turns her gaze away as Alina starts to change.
“Have you forgotten how unpredictable the king can be?” He hammers her question into Alina’s silhouette plastered to the wall. She watched the black shadow flicker in the dying candlelight. The sight of Alina’s chambers also upset her, the signs were clear that Alina had not returned to her chambers at all that night, well after dinner.
“Where have gone, what have you done, what did he do to you? Are you hurt? Are you…..intact?” Marybell’s questions flowed out of her without thought or without any sign of their stopping.
She felt an odd sense of pride as she walked out of his bedroom doors with him at her side. The guards from the night before stood waiting for them to exit , one looking fearful, not knowing if the young woman was alright. Alina bowed her head to the men and continued on her way. Stepping down the stairs, she found herself not wanting to leave his side. Could one night together really change the strength of ones feelings for another? That she didnt know. However, once she made it to the hidden doorway within the silver painted walls, the young woman turned and bowed her head once more to Drych.
Now separated she quickly made her way down the winding corridors. She had already begun to notice silent eyes glancing over. Some with look of worry, and others discussed. A heavy sigh escaped her lungs as she almost made it to her private quarters when she head a very distinct yell from the end of the hallway. It was her mother.
Alina had froze, mere feet from her room. Quickly she turned to find the gracefully aged woman quickly walking her way towards her. Her face was like stone, each step the exact same length in stride as the following. ALina knew she was in great trouble all she could do was try to make it as private as possible. [b Mother, not here, come lets speak inside...] Turning quickly , the younger woman quickly opened her door and stepped inside.
Her room was quite spacious. Not like the other rooms that the majority of the servants had to share. It was quite evident that Alina was in fact one of the Kings most liked staff. Candle wax dripped to the hard wood floors beneath her feet. Her bed still made from an evening absent. Walking over to a chest by the foot of her bed she quickly pulled out a lace covered black gown, silver thread embroidered shimmering lilies down the bodice and edge of her skirt. In another set of chests were undergarments and a fresh cream colored slip to pair underneath.
Hearing the door close she knew Marybell had entered. Standing Alina bit her bottom inner lip waiting to be punished by Marybell's stern hand. [b Mother...don't be mad.... You know I'm an adult know right?] She whispered
“Would you like me to meet you in the garden?” He asks her lightly, part of him was growing impatient because of the teeming questions he had for her. Questions like what her favorite flower was? How she liked last night’s dinner? What she thought of the color green or what she thought of the latest fashion? He moves around her and takes his dark blue overcoat from the edge of the bed. He shoves his arms through the sleeves and then starts to button the front. A soft smile pulls at his lips as she answers him, confirming that she wanted to change and freshen herself.
“Of course.” He makes his way to the large double doors, he opens the right one for her allowing her walk ahead of him and into the short hall before the stairs. Closing the door behind them, he nods once to each guard before walking with her to the second floor of the castle. He knew she would disappear into the servants’ walkway hidden within the walls of the castle. She would follow the dark pathways to the servants’ bunker in the basement and she would head to her private chambers. Her chambers he’d had built specifically for her. Proudly he bows to her before parting with her, making his way down the steps with a grace that had fled him last night. Passing servants gawked after the pair, noticing her wearing the same dress as yesterday and him in a rare good mood. The air around him breathed good humor and his servants immediately picked up on this.
Marybell makes her from one end of the castle to the other. Her wrinkled leather hands twisted around one another. She’d woke to find Alina not in her bed where she should have been, not unusual. But when Marybell had inquired about where she was the rumors quickly made their way to her. The night maid had seen Alina carry the king back to his chambers, he is described to be extremely drunk and leaning heavily on Alina. Alina is then seen entering the king’s chambers. She isn’t seen leaving. Over breakfast Marybell catches wind that the king’s personal morning maid had seen a woman in the king’s bed, an emerald green dress was seen behind a changing screen. Anger and concern colored Marybell’s clouding blue eyes, he greying red hair was pulled back neatly in a hair pin. Walking as fast as she could, Marybell sought Alina, looking everywhere and praying for a case of coincidence and mistaken identity. Alina’s retreating figure caught Marybell’s attention immediately. Rushing forward, Marybell calls her name loudly.
Drych nods to a pair of guards guarding the gates to the garden. Orders for tea and sweets had been given to the cook. Servants have been sent for, their task was to set up a small intimate table for two in the heart of the garden. Overseeing the placement of everything with a detailed eye, he makes sure everything is perfect before settling himself amongst the massive blooming roses and lush green bushes. The sun perches high in the blue sky casting the perfect morning for a garden visit.
All posts are either in parody or to be taken as literature. This is a roleplay site. Sexual content is forbidden.