"Maka, darling! Come back! Please!" Her father shouted after her – Count Spirit of the North, Knight and humble servant of King Death – begging Maka to stop. No, she wasn't called only Maka. Her official title was Lady Maka, Countess-in-waiting of the Northern lands, soon to be bride. Except, she did not want to be a bride, not anymore.
In the past five years she had gone through multiple arranged marriages. The papers, the wedding, the invitations and announcements; all would be sent throughout the lands and then something would happen to rip the procedures into shreds. And it had just happened again, which is what preceded the begging and halted with Maka storming out of her father's hall.
Maka was sick of it. Sick of it all. The noble life and the responsibilities she now had, the expectations of the people – her people – always demanding more from her, and the worse part was the feeling of inadequacy that she lugged around with herself. She couldn't even get a husband. Ever since her father had been dubbed a Count on her eighth birthday, a mere seven years previous, this feeling had surrounded her. She never felt as if she fit in with the court. The nobles looked down upon her, their beady eyes squinty down their upturned noses at such a commoner being given the title of Lady.
Those feelings had only been made worse by the exorbitant amount of issues that had arisen with the marriages. Maka had gone through six, now seven she thought brusquely, broken engagements. All to young men with higher social standing than her own. It had started at age twelve and gone downhill from there. The first hadn't hurt her that much, but as she grew older her emotions regarding the suitors became less stable. Sometimes it was her father's fault, as he had very high expectations for the man he allowed Maka to marry. Other times it was her fault, for she had ideas of her own that she would not suppress. And then there was this time, where the other family broke the engagement and made her feel even less adequate.
In her flurry of anger and resentment she had retreated to the place she enjoyed the most, the stables. Her young life, before her father had become Count, had been much easier for her. Maka's life was simpler and uncomplicated. She didn't have to worry about proper etiquette or ways to do her hair. All she had ever had to worry about when her father was merely a Knight was which horse she would take riding and when her father would return from his monthly sieges of war. Now she had to occupy herself with what was prim and proper for a Lady, and she didn't much care for that life at all.
What she absolutely enjoyed most in her life was riding, and her horses in general. After a long hard day without freedom, and completely void of any of her happiness, she wanted to ride. But she couldn't. Her father's reputation had grown too much, and her face was recognizable amongst his enemies. Not only was gaining class standing stopping her from doing what she wanted, it was also taking away the only love she had in her life. The freedom of the wind whipping her face gave her chills, but for now it wasn't meant to be.
With a sigh Maka covered her face with her cloak's hood and entered into the stables. The smell was a familiar, albeit not extremely pleasant, thing to behold. The stalls hadn't been mucked out yet for the day. Maka silently strode to her favorite horse, Blair, and gave her a nuzzle on her nose.
"What am I doing with my life Blair? I don't even seen the point anymore." Maka's connection with her horse was unimaginable to say the least. Blair seemed to know exactly what Maka meant when she spoke to her, and was always Maka's greatest comfort. The horse blew air through her nose in protest, as if saying that Maka's life had a point that she was certainly looking past.
"Well what am I supposed to do about it? I can't even control when I take baths anymore! Everything is all so strict and formal, I hate it so much Blair! I don't want to be here anymore!" Blair gave a little whinny and nudged her muzzle into the nape of Maka's neck. Her comfort was easily accepted by Maka, especially when she felt the fresh heat of tears sting her cheeks. Her moment of silence was ruined when she heard a sarcastic voice from behind her.
"If my Lady would so please, I need to clean her horse's stall." The muscular man had a shock of blue hair that matched the skies of Maka's dreams. His shoulder had a brand upon it of a star, marking him as property of the Star Nation of the West – past enemies of King Death and Maka's father. Past meaning that they were now almost extinct, except for the specimen standing in front of her. Maka's father had decimated the Star Nation in those years when she had been a free child, and now she was as chained to her father as the man standing before her.
"Black Star, you know not to call me that. I do not like it, and neither do you."
"Ah, yes I know, but I could not stop myself from the temptation to annoy the young master." With this he did an extravagent little bow that only furthered her annoyance. Black Star had been spared by her father during his conquest because he was so young and of royal blood. Spirit brought him home and set him to work in the stables, which was where he now spent all of his time. He was only a few years older than Maka, and the two had always been known to get into fights throughout their childhoods. He acted more like an annoying brother that she could never get away from as each day passed. "If you would so please to move out of the way I would be able to perform my job correctly…and you would be able to find the hole in the fence that I have yet to fix while I am swamped with these stables…"
The abrupt shift in his meaning caught Maka off guard. The spark in her eyes lit up at the thought of riding again on her own, without a guard surrounding her and pulling her back. A smile spread quickly across her face as she thanked Black Star profusely.
"Just go kid…I have work to finish. Be back before dusk and I will cover for you. After that, you are on your own."
With the agreement in place she quickly grabbed a blanket for Blair's back and a halter. Within mere seconds Maka was flying out the door, cloak still covering her face with a promise of an afternoon of well-deserved freedom from the demands of nobility.
