A/N: Much to my supreme disappointment, I only recieved one review. Thank you to Wakeflames, for the kind review. The only review. Oh well. Maybe there are anonymous reviewers who can't review because my friend isn't letting them. (I'm sharing the account, and it's on the other person's email, so I respect that choice.)
Soon enough I had come to the gate, a large ornate thing with—I gagged and almost laughed at the sight—hideous gargoyles on each side. The gate had once been gilded, but the gold coloring had long chipped off, much to my obtuse amusement. What oh-so-ominous gates these are, I thought. I raised my eyebrows quizzically at it, for much to my surprise and dismay, I was the only petitioner present, and the very thought terrified me.
The sound of firm footsteps echoed in the yard and I straightened myself, listening with growing trepidation to the hard, sharp smacking of boots against stone. A burly guard opened the gate and looking bored, his eyes slack-lidded, he commanded gruffly, "State your name and business."
"I am Claire Feldon the minstrel, guild-mistress for the musicians of Remalna. I'm here to present our issues to the king-to-be via Petitioner's Court," I said tersely, assuming my business manner, my back ramrod straight.
"Go in," he said coolly, his face stony, betraying no emotion besides utter boredom. I gave a curt, tense nod, trying to be calm, and it only took what seemed like a few brisk steps to carry me through the halls until the enormous color-wood doors of the throne-room loomed ominously before me. My hand trembled as I clutched my papers and waited to be brought in, my heart pounding loudly in my chest, my hands slippery with sweat. All too soon the runner had appeared, and made to open the doors. I swallowed nervously, but as the door creaked open I stepped decisively into the room, wearing my disarming smile, my mind alight with the new challenge.
A/N: I apologize for the alarming shortness of this chapter. There is, again, more to come. Please review if at all possible.