Sunshine in a Raining Day
Rate: K+ (just randomly putting a rate in)
Genre: (mostly) Romance
Disclaimer: I don't own Winx Club.
Author's note before you start reading: This is, I must admit, a really strange piece of work. Whether you understand it or not, don't worry, it's not your fault. I'm just struggling myself over my SAT critical reading score (which is miserably 450 btw), and therefore start dwelling in vocabulary. But there are just too many words to remember, and each of them makes no logical explanation at all. Cantankerous? I mean, is that even English? So finally, I come up with this idea, to write a story when I study vocabulary, using the words that I learn. At first, it was only 28 words, and I planned to write a one-shot only, but then I got too vigorous and kept writing more, and next to me is nearly 90 words, with a CHAPTER. Yes, a CHAPTER, not any one-shot. I don't know if I can keep this fiction steady or not, but I will try my best not to lose my enthusiasm (for the story and for my score, too!). So somewhere in the fic, you will find several bolded words, which are the ones that I need to learn. I want to write it this way to keep track of my process. So don't let it bother you too much when reading!
Oh and don't forget to review, too!
Stella is the princess of Solaria, the Kingdom of the Sun. As ebullient as she used to be, in this poignant moment, when her father has fell ill, she cannot portrait a proper smile. Not for her people, not for her boyfriend, not for herself.
She is currently extremely depressed, completely the opposite of her usual jubilant appearance. Even with Brandon, the squire whom she adores so much, she could not help but become cantankerous around him, for he was always trying to lighten up her mood in vain. She spent days and nights going back and forth in his Majesty's bedroom, staring pointlessly at his pale figure on the golden royal bed, and hoarded herself with rancor and responsibilities, for being his only daughter yet not able to do anything to help him.
The brown-haired squire was once annoyed at how capricious his girlfriend's mood can be, swinging from buoyancy to spontaneous agony, but right now, he feels helpless at her ingrained melancholy. The whole castle is drowned in this continuous depression, whose atmosphere is gradually becoming so suffocating that he can hardly endure any longer.
Fortuitously, there are still people who by no means are affected by the king's illness. That would be Countess Cassandra and her ostentatious daughter Chimera. Wealth and power have already inoculated them against any moral feeling or emotions that they might have for their fiancé/father-to-be. And right now, those two are storming their foot towards the king's bedroom, making a tumultuous entrance.
"I have heard that His Majesty had encountered a dangerous sickness," greeted Countess with sympathy on her face. Trying as hard as he could, Brandon could never understand fully the power of women when they put on an act. "What a horrible misfortune that has come upon this kingdom! Trust me with my words, Princess Stella, that I have done my best to run here as soon as I heard the news. We must convene a meeting among the elders right now, to determine who should take over the control of Solaria!"
Grimaced at the woman's fakeness, Stella cries out. "Dear beloved mother, would you please refrain yourself a bit, not to wake up father's rest? Are you blind not to see that his illness here is more important than the politics you are blabbering about? For I, Princess Stella, am still holding the stewardship of the palace, what is there for you to worry about? Or are you trying to rescind whatever my father's wish was, and cogitating some virulent plan that will bring you opulence?"
Much to his surprise, his girlfriend is speaking calmly. Which she certainly never did in front of this mother-daughter couple before. The squire was quite sure that as soon as the door opened and Countess Cassandra's figure appeared, his princess would immediately stand up, point at them and shout or utter any kind of insult she could think of, for she is not someone who would stand back to something like this. He had thought that these women would be able to invigorateher somehow, albeit in a negative way. But reality disappointed him, when he realized that his princess' depression has reached a new level.
"Dearly sister," the cocky purple-haired speaks out. But of course, since she is not suffering from the distress for the king, her attitude and immatureness remains the same. "Are you trying to imply that we are here to talk about what we deserve to have after the king dies? Don't be so arrogant, Stella, who do you think you are? And do you think that your so-called renown with the Winx will help you get through this, and that you can be able to get the throne? You gotta be kidding me!"
Now that's what he calls 'language'. As of what Chimera has announced, he could fully understand and interpret, and would have truly appreciated it had she not expressed it so loudly.
"Chimera, watch your mouth!" Growled her mother, before the countess continues what she has left. "Princess Stella, please do not misunderstand our good wills, if you would like. I, for myself have learned politics ever since I was young, know for sure that the most intrinsic mission to do when a leader fell into diseases is that his system remain and be taken over by someone as wise as he was. The zeitgeist of this kingdom has never fallen, princess, because the king has handled it so well. But right now, princess, forgive me for being so utilitarian despite of how innocuous a person I am, I must say that this kingdom will fall, if we do not do anything. I am not doing this because it is lucrative for me, but because it would be what His Majesty wishes for if he could regain his consciousness as well."
Some few courtiers witnessing in the room at that time also nod their heads in agreement to what the Countess has stated. It is true that the kingdom needs a leader, but is speaking about that problem right in front of the king's bed considered appropriate?
But since this is Countess Cassandra who we are talking about, a woman who has once even sold her soul to evils in exchange for manipulating the king, there is nothing she cannot do to get the throne. To intensify the situation, an exultant smirk appears on the fiancé's face when she heard the elders' footstep come closer.
"Princess Stella!" One of the old men exclaims. "You must leave His Majesty to the maids right now, and come to the main hall. The citizens who have problems are await outside, as they have no one to meet them. If this prolongs, there will be an uproar."
Oh how Brandon abhors whoever or whatever that is trying to hamper his little princess so much. A daughter who is mourning over her father's illness, and they cannot be so generous as to give her the right to do so? Just how long will this palace plan to maltreat his princess? How can they be so blind not to see one tangible fact that the more they placate her and ease her from this pain, the faster she will be able to fix the situation? But instead they choose the difficult way and trample on her feelings? Frustration billows inside his chest, making his fingers form into fists.
"That is not very thoughtful of you, elder. How reprehensible of you, not seeing that Princess Stella is now in no mood to meet the citizens?" Countess Cassandra questions, raises her eyebrow in an unsatisfied way, completely contrast to how effervescent she was when the elders first came in. Her being considerate towards Stella can only be reasonable as a harbinger of the end of the world, knowing who she is just a few seconds before. However, things soon come to light and reveal her counterfeit nature as she speaks again. "Let the Princess stay her with her dear father, for she blatantly cannot handle the politics. She will just be too emotional and upset over His Majesty's illness, and disappoint the citizens. Can you not see this, elders? In front of you standing not a princess, but a pitiful daughter!"
"Stop your derogatory words, Countess, you have no rights to…"
Stella, who has been remaining still and placid, quietly enduring the insults and drama about her playing right in front of her eyes, stops her precious boyfriend from interfering for her.
"Enough, Brandon." She whispers, "You don't have to do this."
He, at that time, cannot understand how she could take all this ridiculous abasement from that virulent woman. Has she decided to relinquish her pride, her self-esteem, and let the blasphemy go on? Has she given up? Or has she admitted defeat, and admitted that Cassandra was right, about her being overtaken by pain? The omnipresent inquiry is slowly killing him, turning into an incentive that he could just pull out his sword and threaten anyone who dares to raise a word against his princess right now, so much that he fears just one more subtle sound is already enough to ignite him, to break him into violence. But he catches that tranquil and forthright look in her eyes, staring at him as to tell him to simmer down. His deficiency in keeping patience is not easy to be settled down, but he tries his best, turning away from the scene to pull himself together.
"Mother," Stella speaks again, quiets the murmuring of the elders. "I would be much exhilarated, if you could be so kind not to bind me to your judgment. How do you know whether or not I am sinking in depression for my father, so much that I cannot be decisive enough for the kingdom? Has my nuance engendered you to be so credulous over my enshrouded ability? Are my years being raised in the palace in vain? Certainly not, dear mother, if you know enough about our tutors, we have the best tutors in this whole Magix dimension. I will now come and meet the citizens right away. Prepare my cloak!"
The servant cowers, probably due to Stella's fearful tone, and disappears behind the silvery door. Seconds later, he comes back with the king's royal cloak.
"Mother," Stella glares towards the woman, who's tawdrily beautifulface is now blighted by frustration, and whispers the words as she passes by. "I would solve whatever knotty puzzle or labyrinth you push upon me. However, be careful not to hasten the process, and make sure to abstain that haughtiness of yours, or else, it will create laceration in your flawless plan, and bring you down instead. You would not want to kneel before me and beg for absolution and forgiveness, would you, mother?"
Leaving Countess Cassandra speechless, she walks away from the bedroom and the tardy elders who now do not even dare to breathe.
Brandon lets out a sigh. He does not know if he should be glad or worried. This conspiratorial change in Stella scares him even more than when she was deep down in misery. He should be ecstatic to hear her speak so much, especially with such serene attitude. Nevertheless, he keeps feeling that she is just being obdurate, and forcing herself to take up the responsibilities. Why does she have to do that? What remuneration can she get out of this, he cannot understand. His girl is suffering so much, yet all that he could do is to watch her break down every day. Repudiates to accept the current situation, the squire takes out his phone, and dials a familiar number.
The Winx. They are the only ones that can help her stand strong right now.