"Papa, I don't want to!" Alysa knew this was ironic.
"Nonsense, your letter arrived three days ago! You'll leave on the morrow!"
She really did.
"Papa, I rea-"
"You haven't packed yet I presume?" The elder man looked at his daughter. "I'll send a few servants to attend with your needs."
"Papa!" Alysa cried out "I really don-"
"Alright," the man continued, ignoring the girl's objections. "I'm off to town. A couple of stray stormwings have been causing, well, havoc. We'll have to leave it at that."
"Papa, wait!" Her plea was much too late. Maxin had already swept off to attend to his people.
Alysa fell to the ground in a slump, not caring that a recent rain had muddied it. Drawing in a shaky breath, she forced herself to focus on anything but the matter at hand.
Pipren is quite lovely in the spring, she noted. Its stone walls looked much less menacing. The surrounding forest seemed much more inviting, and the constant chirping of birds filled the air. The sun shone brightly into its courtyard.
"My Lady," Alysa felt a hand on her shoulder. "Your bags are being prepared in your rooms. Is there anything you would like to be included?"
"Yes." Alysa considered carefully, just because she was being sent off didn't mean she had to accept it just yet. "Pack as many dresses as possible."
"As My Lady wishes." The servant bowed, and then promptly vanished.
"Alysa of Pipren, that tunic material was expensive!" A woman's shrill shriek filled the air. Alysa ground her teeth, grudgingly getting up from the ground, and into a small curtsy.
Her dear mum was angry; a single glance told the 11 year old so. Golden curls, usually gently tucked into a bun, were strewn all over. Tanned hands were clenched into fists. Her pale blue eyes were narrowed and glaring, effectively clearing a path to her daughter with a glance.
Jesslyn fingered her daughter's now muddied tunic with obvious disgust.
Alysa almost cracked a smile- her mother's unending war on mud was somewhat amusing to watch, even if she was the current target.
"Go clean up," Alysa inwardly flinched at her tone "and help with your bags."
Alysa bit her lip, holding back a sigh. "Yes Mother." Giving yet another curtsy, she slipped into the nearest corridor and started for her rooms.
"I guess this is really happening." Alysa spoke to no one in particular. "I'm leaving tomorrow . . ."
A heavy feeling of utter despair rained down on her shoulders.
". . . Papa, don't you see?" A wave of anger came over the girl. "I don't want to be a knight!"