Summer palace
One of her favorite pastimes was dancing; every afternoon, when the sun would slowly dip into the shades of trees, she would make her way to the glade just behind the house she lived in, usually wearing something loose and flowing. Her hair, chestnut colored silky locks, would be embroided with flowers or other ornaments- often the lilies picked by her caretaker, Beatrice. And in the middle of the glade, where flowers of all forms bloomed and watched, she would dance and let herself be free of the difficult household chores and gnawing loneliness that plagued her mind. But that was during her younger, carefree years; she had not the burden of a queen on her shoulders, her heart had not been taken away by a childish blonde king, she was pure, a simple virgin of ripe years; and the dim future that awaited her was not visible enough to worry her.
But years passed, and countless armies of creatures had passed and ransacked the once peaceful place. It had been after that she had chosen to visit her old home. Beatrice no longer resided in the once cozy haven, and as the queen of the Griffin Empire stepped into the termite-eaten wood, the whole place began to creak and moan. It's as if it was telling her of what had happened while she was out there in war.
But there was nothing Isabel could do anymore, and sadly she stroked the once white walls, now laden with thick vines, on her way inside. Her companion stood just before the entrance, somber and silent, though Isabel could not fathom why he was looking that way. She was home now. The debris that littered the wooden floors, the blood stains of strangers on the walls and vines, and the stairs breaking apart- more or less, she was home. She had promised to come back, and here she was. But where was the welcome?
Deftly she stepped across the various objects that were scattered on the floor, reaching the back of the old sanctuary. She paused and stared quietly at the old door, plants hugging its wooden surface. Should she? It felt like intruding, but this had been her home, and surely Beatrice would allow her.
Just one more time.
She pushed at the door, successfully opening it to reveal an over-grown area filled with green life. It was growing dim, and the sun was gone, only fractures of the moonlight peeping through the thick leaves. But it was her glade. It was the magical place where she had once lived her life in when she was young, innocent and happy, without knowledge of anything that she had gone through recently. But she was older now, learned and battle-rough, unlike before. She wasn't Isabel any longer; she was the queen.
Her companion reached her and placed a warning hand on her shoulder, but she disregarded it. Raelag was always in a hurry. Sure he was kind and sweet and caring, but these were one of the things he would never understand- no matter how much he claims to know.
Shrugging him off, she walked into the over-growth, the grass blades grazing softly on the metal surface of her knee armor. They were taken very much care of, no matter what had transpired. How she envied them.
When she reached the middle of the glade, illuminated by the moon beams that shone through the trees and hanging plants, she raised her arms halfway her shoulders...and twirled.
Beatrice loved playing the piano. Isabel could remember the sweet afternoon that smelled of cinnamon and newly baked bread; and as she would start her routine, Beatrice would start playing the piano for her to dance with. She could recall the tunes and tones caressing her while she would dance, the music keeping her on her feet. And she would laugh and laugh, and Beatrice would share her happiness.
Her feet were in a scurry trying to avoid tripping over the other, trying to keep up with the silent song that accompanied her charade; her long flowing cape flew around her, following her direction, casting a red banner that followed her circular crusade; her hair, usually straight and well-combed, was now free and scattered over her face, just like so many years before; and her jade eyes glowed in childish delight as she spun around...and around...and around.
She laughed softly as she dropped to her knees, suddenly tired...and broken. So much had changed, and things would never be the same again. Sure she was rich now, important, noticed- but at what cost? There were legions of demons behind her back, there had been so many lives lost; there were so many things to be done. She had only barely tasted the fruit of love- and as quickly as it went, it was immediately stripped from her, leaving her bare and vulnerable.
Being queen wasn't worth this. There were so many things that could have happened, far more blessed things, than this loneliness and barren fate. If she could just go back and refuse the hand of that handsome man...if she could have only been happier with the simplicity she had, rather than searching for adventure she couldn't obviously take...it wasn't worth it.
She dipped her head in her hands, letting the soft caramel locks caress her face as she did so, and cried. It has been a long time since she had last exposed herself this way, and the gesture was rather alien to her now developed features. But still, she let the tears flow, through the small gaps in between her fingers, dropping to her metal-covered thighs.
She didn't know how long it lasted, but as she withdrew her head from her hands, she felt a tad better. There was a hand on her shoulder, reassuring and gentle, and she looked up to him with her puffy red eyes. Raelag needn't to understand; that was what delighted her about him. He didn't need to understand. He just listened, comforted, and was there...no matter what.
She couldn't voice out properly her gratitude, for her throat was aching, and she was afraid that if she did say something, the words would only tremble. But eye contact was enough for him; as her emerald orbs lingered upon his obsidian ones, he smiled softly, and nodded.
It was time to go now.
Perhaps this place had been her home for years- but that was the past. She was a grown woman, and there was nothing to return to here. She had another place now, she belonged somewhere else, and the queen needed her rest. It felt good though, to visit her haven when she was a child. She felt satisfied somehow.
And as she exited the open door to walk to her steed, she looked back for one last time.
No matter what happened, this would always be her summer palace.
End.