Derek nodded gently, the same thought running through his head. His mother and father had once been in love, true love, something he had experienced with Violet alone. Yet as of late they had…grown apart, Derek knew it was for a number of reasons, none of which he would burden his baby sister with right now. “Mother is the strongest woman i know, if Father ever even tried to make her do something she didn’t want to do, she would punch him” Derek said with a grin. It wasn’t a lie, not really. their mother was as tough as nails when it mattered…but the business with their father was draining her. Still Derek kept smiling, he stood and was about to reply to her statement about ugliness when she broke away from him. Derek frowned “Clarice” he called after her with a sigh. His sister was a small thing, so it didn’t take long for him to catch up with her in the courtyard “Ok, we won’t talk about it anymore if it’s making you upset” he said, nodding gently. As she headed to the stable he followed with a laugh “Sir lyn, get Clarices pony ready for a ride around the castle grounds. And bring my Bay out too.” Sir Lyn was a tall man with a bald head and watery blue eyes. “Yes Your Grace” he said, his voice smooth. Soon enough her little Dapple grey pony was saddled and ready to be ridden. “Here” Derek said, he lifted Clarice under the arms and set her on the back of the pony. The thing wickered and pawed the ground but did not move. Derek then slung himself over his bay and trotted up beside her “Hold the reins tightly” he called down, showing her on his own horse “Then kick your heels into the rear” he did that himself and his bay took of in a slow trot toward the gate. He glanced over his shoulder, watching his sister with a grin.
Clarice nodded when her brother told her they didn’t had to talk about it anymore if it made her upset. Glad, he at least could understand her, and didn’t push through her limits. Clarice keep on walking into the stables, and she stopped when she saw Sir Lyn, he was bald head, and very tall, she always felt the need on asking him why his hair didn’t grown, and she already asked him that lots of times, but her mother always takes her away for stop bothering the poor Sir.
Clarice’s green eyes watched her little Dapple grey pony, she was right, when she called it fat. Feeling her brothers hands under her arms, in matter of seconds, she was already in the mid air then sitting on the back of the pony. She was about to hit its head, because she thought the animal was going to start moving, and she wanted him to stay quiet so she wouldn’t fall, but whenever she noticed the pony remained quiet, she didn’t hit him.
Now she didn’t knew what to do, she had never ride any pony before, her mother told her she needed to grow up a little more, before ride his things, now she’s old enough to ride it no? She looked up to her brother like she was waiting for him to tell her how to ride this thing.
She mumbled while she wrapped her tiny fingers around the reins tightly, then she told him to kick her heels into the rear, wouldn’t that hurt the pony? Awesome. She did it, but did it a bit rough, so the pony didn’t galloped slowly, he one it quickly, but only five steps no more than that.
Clarice got surprised with it, but then she was already having her fun, in fact, she was laughing while making the pony gallop slowly around and follow her brother. She didn’t laughed everyday, sometimes she did with her mother, but it wasn’t like something that would happen every single hour.
The Queen was finally able to calm herself down, but it took her ten minutes or so. She grabbed a tissue and began to wipe the tears from her face, and making sure she would clean her cheeks and eyes because of the make up, not making it look so horrible. After that, she took a deep breathe, pressed her palm against her chest, and closed her eyes, trying to calm herself a bit more. With this done, she open her eyes again, and felt better, of course her eyes were still red from the crying, but at least she stopped shaking.
Leaving the room, she walked through the hallways, and found a maid, she told her to move her clothes and belongings from her chambers, and put it in another empty chamber. She didn’t wanted to sleep closer to her husband again, even tho they always remained far away on the same bed, so it wouldn’t make a big difference. The only time they spoke for so long in years, was for argue, and it upset her a lot.
After telling this to the maid, she told her she was dismissed, and just keep on walking through the hallways, she had no intentions on going back to the throne room, she was actually going to get a cup of tea, that would help her, since she was sure her son would be mature enough to take care of his little sister. Reaching the dining room, she sat down on the large table, and order a cup of tea. It didn’t took him that long to come back with her tea.
Metia peacefully just began to drink her own tea, trying to keep her mind clear from anger and sadness.
“My Queen! My Queen!” A servant called out.
Metia perked up an eyebrow, and stared at the poor man from the corner of her eye, wondering what did he wanted now.
“What is it?” Metia asked.
“The King, he’s gone..We can’t find him, in the throne room, he left his crown and most of his royal clothing that he was wearing. We also saw some white feathers on the ground, but nothing more than that. He’s gone, majesty.”
The servant told her while trying to keep calm, and hoping Metia wouldn’t rage on him.
Metia literally broke the cup of tea with her grip whenever she heard that, at first she thought he had run away with her daughter, just because Metia didn’t allowed him to take her away, and he would do it anyway.
Metia asked as she quickly lifted up from her seat.
“Huh..She’s with the prince, they are both on the stable.”
The servant answered her.
That quickly made Metia feel a huge relief, but it wasn’t still over, her King was missing. She ran through the hallways again, and went straight to the Throne room, she saw the crown, clothes and white feathers, that made her run to the balcony and look up for see if she could see him anywhere, but he was nowhere to be seen. What was his goal now? Run away and leave his family behind? She felt the tears coming back to her eyes. Her family wasn’t like she wanted, her daughter didn’t had father love, Derek was always busy, Selene was in the nightlands with her husband and her daughter, which Metia had never seen before, since that girl decided to run away. This isn’t a family.
“I want groups of warriors to go find my husband, and I want it now.”
She was worried about him, even if he left on his own, he could do something stupid, and she didn’t wanted that to happen. She placed her palms over the stone from the balcony and tighten, trying to hold back her tears. Once again, she watched everything falling down, even if this was her chance to take over the throne, she was too depressed to ever think about it.
Lady Tanner had been keeping tabs on the King prior to his disappearance, so really when the news of the King vanishing from the Throne room, the key Lady in Waiting took it upon herself, to go tend to the Queen, and perhaps share some of her thoughts on the matter. Entering the throne room, wearing soft soled slippers, Lady Tanner saw exactly what the Queen had discovered. The crown resting upon the Throne, his clothes and robe scattered upon the marble floor, and his feathers that were strewn about on a trail that led to the balcony. The Queen was standing in his place now, her hands placed palm down on the stone.
“So he finally did it. I knew it was a matter of time, just not so soon.” Lady Tanner said with a soft voice. A dear friend to the King, and not well liked by Metia, she felt the urge to express herself, woman to woman. “Sending out a group of warriors, to drag him back from wherever he may be….is not going to save him.” The Lady in waiting walked up behind Metia and folded her arms, staring straight past her. “He probably couldn’t stand to face you….or his own people anymore. He stopped being King, the minute he stopped feeling love.” Lady Tanner was insightful, at least, and though this was probably going to have her sent to the dungeons for dissidence, it was going to be worth it.
“Did you ever…truly love that man?”
Metia kept staring at the sky, in hopes, that maybe she could still see him flying around, or that he would be back. This wasn’t normal from Henry, leave everything behind, that’s a selfish move, and he isn’t selfish. Yes, he did changed a lot during this all seven years, but still, his true self is somewhere in himself, locked, but its still there. If he didn’t wanted to deal with his daughter or with Metia, he didn’t needed to, hell, this all years he is always absent, so having a chamber for himself and one for her, wouldn’t change much. She had never thought about divorce before, its not a normal thing, and Kings and Queens doesn’t do that often, plus she had the hope that maybe after awhile, he would change back to his normal self, if not, it would be enough for her see him around in her life, even if he was absent.
Metia heard some female voice behind her, she slowly turned her head around, and saw Lady Tanner, of course, this woman was going to be around, if the matter was about the King she was always there. Metia rose her chin slowly, as she gulped and listen to the woman words. She knew it was a matter of time? Who was she to know that stuff? Well, it was rather obvious, Metia had always feared that as well. The Queen took a deep breathe, knowing very well the warriors wouldn’t help in anything, and they would have lucky if they could even bring him back, but still, Metia wanted to give a try, she wasn’t going to give up.
This conversation only got more frustrating, whenever the Lady started talking about Henry not being able to face her, or his own people anymore, and that he stopped being King, whenever he stopped feeling love. This was clearly towards her, and it was obvious a way to insult Metia, or simple shove in her face true facts, and let her stay with the blame.
“What do you know, Lady Tanner?”
Metia finally spoke, and clenched her fists, in anger. She was question the Queen her love for her King. It was true that Metia didn’t loved him since the day she met him, but she did started loving him during this all years he started to get away from her, maybe that’s what woke her up, maybe having him distant, would make her realize how much she actually needs him.
“I love him…more than you think.”
Metia spoke while slowly stepping closer to the Lady.
“And its not somebody like you, who will question my love, and take him away from me..”
After saying those words, Metia stretched out her arm, and placed her palm over the Lady Tanner’s arm, with a grip, her palm started to get warm, too warm, able to burn anybody, but she wasn’t burning her dress, she was burning her skin, and leave her dress perfectly fine. This would only take couple of seconds, because Metia removed her hand and started to walk away from her, to go pick up the King clothes and crown.
If Metia wanted, she could end this woman, the woman was actually good to use as a soul for her curse, but she knows Tanner is basically the one that is always following the King, and having her dead out of nowhere would only cause her trouble.
Glancing down at the floor, she picked up on the trail of feathers, that led to the balcony. Lady Tanner followed this, and then stood in the same place that the King was seen to stand, deep in thought day after day. At first she cast her eyes down on the courtyard below, then the stables, and servant quarters. Further out the training grounds, and then the Dark forests. Lady Tanner rest her hands on the balcony railing, and looked higher.
Somewhere out this window, there was a place that called to the King. Lady Tanner’s eyes narrowed as she scanned the very mountains, only to spot right at the top, the slim glimmer of gold. “Hmmm..” The Lady in waiting hummed to herself. “I wonder..” Turning around, she knelt down and picked up one of the King’s feathers, and placed it in her pocket, before making a move for the exit to the throne room.
She had long since moved to lie on the small, uncomfortable cot, originally curled into the ball, but now she was just sort of laying there with her knees bent and back slouched, facing the front of the cell to see if anyone came. Visitors were not uncommon, but they were usually for the other guy. Still, all of them seemed to know who she was and would ask her a question or two before remembering that she wasn’t going to answer or look at them. Her hand was curled around one of her own feathers, as if it were something different, something precious. Everything precious had been taken from her, one way or another. Some of the people who visited started rumors when they left. One of which was that she plucked a feather from her wings for every family member or friend of hers that was killed. Still, they held no mercy for the all white angels. There were very few left, and Calypso was one of the ones with a better life. That in it’s own should have at least brought her pity, and through pity, the mercy. But she received none except from the queen, who had only shown her enough to save her life.
Sir Wayne had made the walk all the way up from the Training grounds, on the words of Sir Reginald, that Calypso was still incarcerated for crimes against the crown. From memories he had of her, in the heady days prior to the Great war, he saw her as a noblewoman, whom held herself in high regard, and served the Queen faithfully. Little did he know of the dark side to the white angel. The dungeons were not a place for the faint hearted. Very little light shone down into the dark bowels of the Castle proper. You could see rats and other vermin creeping across the ground in search of morsels or crumbs, left behind from the plates of gruel that was feed to the inmates. A slow dripping sound of water on rock, was the only sound, aside from the moans and wails of those that had been locked up for good.
Stepping through the doorway and into the hall of cells, Sir Wayne could see the outline of a feminine figure that was huddled in her cell, right down the back. The Knight urged the jailer to unlock her cell, so that he may enter. The jailer grimmaced at the smell of many of the inmates, and with the jangle of keys from his key ring, he unlocked Calypso’s cell, and stood back with his arms folded. “You best be careful….rumors say she drinks blood from the unsuspecting.” Sir Wayne frowned, and shook his head. “I don’t listen to such tainted words. Leave us.” The jailer shrugged, and sauntered off, as Sir Wayne entered Calypso’s cell, and crouched down before her, his face riddled with concern, that one so beautiful, would be kept like a bird in a cage. She needed to be free.
“Do you remember me, Calypso….tis Sir Wayne..”
At first it seemed as though his visit would be no different from the few that she had been the prime target of. She didn’t look at him, didn’t move, didn’t acknowledge that he was there. The inmate in the cell immediately next to hers scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Waste o’ time, if ya ask me. Only thing she’s worth is lookin’ at.” Calypso had long since adjusted to the inmate’s mannerisms, as well as the fact that his wife was in the cell on the other side. “He didn’t ask you, so keep quiet. You’re supposed to be paying time for stealing that cart.” Calypso’s hand tightened slightly as the two began their usual banter, but they were silenced by the guards removing them from their cells and to different ones, after several long weeks of the damned practical torture of being between them. She might have smiled if it were different circumstances. Under the current ones, though, the only acknowledgement was her hand.
And then she spoke.
“I do remember you.” Her voice was quiet, and slightly hoarse, as if she were suffering more greatly than she seemed to be, rotting in the dank cell. Her eyes didn’t move, and neither did the rest of her body. Why was he here? The only real interaction between them had been eye contact and a nod or two, and that was years ago, before the war. And before she was caught. “White dog of the king.” The words were not meant as an insult. She was too far gone for insults. It was more a statement, slightly biased to that of the (less than) common man. “Such a shame you waste your time with the dirt under your foot.” She still merely spoke the truth. Even so much as speaking of her without a name would prove unusual for a knight. Perhaps he did not know she was falling? Perhaps he believed she was imprisoned under false pretenses. He was wrong if he did, but somehow she understood why. The last he had probably heard of her prior to her imprisonment for treason and murder was that she was a sickly servant of the queen, white-winged and skinned and haired. White to the bone. Surely it was difficult to picture her, as she was now, as a murderer who killed in cold blood and let others take the fall.
Sir Wayne dismissed the banter of the other two inmates, who seemed more interested in taunting Calypso, and their own tit for tat conversation. When they were moved away, Wayne focused back on the white angel before him. She remembered him. Her eyes, like the rest of him, barely moved an inch. She was curious of course to the reason that he was there, but it was more interesting to hear from her. She spoke as though she had not had a good drink in a long time, most likely malnourished so her mind may well not be what it once was. Madness was a mere thought away.
‘Such a shame you waste your time with the dirt under your foot.”
“I chose my time wisely, Calypso, and as for dirt under my feet, I have to reject that notion.”
Looking back at the jailer, he then had an idea. He stood up and then opened the door to her cell wide. “As one of the Generals of the King’s armies, I am allowed certain privileges. And if that means, I can collect any maiden from the jail and take her to my tent for …certain activities, that shall remain unspoken…then I shall.” Wayne said this with much boldness and bravado…but in truth, that is not at all his intent. The jailer laughed and then even patted the Knight’s shoulder. “Be like laying with stone, but each to their own. Ahahaha.” With that agreed, Wayne turned back and swung up Calypso in his arms, and simply…walked her out of the jail. If she allowed this, he would take her out into the courtyard, and set her upon a horse, to lead her back to the training fields, and freedom from her cell. If the Queen had issues with his actions, she was welcome to come discuss it. He was doing this out of a sense, that not all who fall, are truly evil.
When he lifted her into his arms, she fell limp, as if it were an involuntary reaction. She became silent once more, but made no struggle. The guard’s seemed almost smug that their point was being made, and that she was going to be gone for a little while, but all of them seemed to think she would be back. As he carried her back out into open air, she took a silent, deep breath, breathing in as deeply as she could. But that was the last of her reactions and movements. She allowed him to set her on the horse, but she immediately leaned onto it’s neck. The creature was gentle and was not angered by her movement, as if it sensed her time of weakness. It probably did. She closed her eyes and just… stopped. There was hardly any hint that she was alive other than the slightest rise and fall of her back with her breathing.