She was tempted to leave once more in the middle of the night on the back of her Temptress and ride into the darkness to never return, to leave this utterly simple life behind. Every one of her morals of family and honor had been thrown into the wind like the dying petals on autumn trees. She was wrong to feel this way, absolutely and mortifyingly wrong. Yet it was the hope of adventure that planted this thoughts in her mind and watered them, letting them grow like vines and entangling them around her every thought until she couldn't believe what was right or wrong anymore; past the trees, past the barriers that held her captive within the stone walls of the Keep, was a world full of mysteries and dreams to be answered by her.
Her escape wouldn't be easy—she'd need some of her father's bountiful riches if she were to sneak something in. Then the guards sworn to protect her and her family at all costs would fight to drag her into the prison she called a home. She had enough trouble going on midnight rides without them spotting her and telling her to go inside as she quickly thought up an excuse. Sleepwalking was her most used excuse, and the guards believed her. But it also raised the thought amongst the superstitious idiots that she was insane and that sleepwalking would end the castle's wonderful reign.
She would need food too. Food to sustain her until she got to wherever she was going. She had been away from the castle more than enough times to know that she couldn't just bring a loaf of bread and survive for days on end—at least, not comfortably. Then again, comfort wasn't what she wanted to invest in. She would need to pack her saddlebag to the brim, and even then she would need more. Two loaves of bread, a bottle of red wine, cheeses of any sort. She wouldn't take any meat—she wouldn't let maggots become attracted to her food. Berries were common along the paths so bringing those wouldn't add to her advantage, just take more space.
Her fingers hurt as she scribbled the lists of what she needed onto thick parchment paper, her words hardly readable in the scurried writing she scrabbled down. She still had to attend dinner, even though she'd begged her handmaiden to bring it up to her instead of having to visit the guests in the dining hall. And for all she was worth, for all the money her father kept hidden in his vault, for all the land his banner owned, she was useless to these men. They wanted war and she wanted escape.
But, still, her handmaiden dragged her into the clawfoot tub and dunked her, before dragging her back into the bedroom against the will. Her friend's eyes were alight with rage, something Alyvia didn't understand as she rung out her thick dark hair. On her bed was the worst of the worst dresses—a low cut teal dress decorated with thousands of tiny white stars. It wasn't even the low cut she minded; after thousands of times wearing them, she'd gotten used to her flat chest and made the most of it. It pained her father to have such a shapeless girl in his family but she was thankful for it. Before she could deal with the sight of herself in the mirror, her handmaiden tossed a thin brown cover over the blue.
She didn't even control what the lady did to her hair, but was thankful it was something she was used to. A tight bun while the rest of her dark hair rested in down her shoulders and back. The handmaiden tugged at her hair roughly, emitting a soft whelp of surprise from Alyvia, before pinning her mother's silver clip into her hair. "That's what you get for being late." She snarled, yanking her up and pushing her into the hallway.
Alyvia stood frozen as her handmaiden walked down the stairs. Had her only friend betrayed her as well? Had the Knight of Fullmetal told everyone of the incident in the forest? Her guilt for running away instantly disappeared—if she was going to escape, it was going to have to be tonight. She inhaled sharply, put the fake, forced smile on her cheeks, before following her cruel friend down into the dining hall, where everyone sat waiting just for her.
She noticed that Alphonse had an empty seat beside him that he seemed to motion towards with his eyes. Though she didn't want any part of him nor his brother, it was the safest bet. Her father wouldn't yell at her for being late nor would his idiot brother try to speak with her. She walked towards the seat and smiled brightly at him—extremely fake—before slipping into the hard seat beside him.
The first gazes she caught were those of her idiot brothers. Mason snickered at the sight of her while Hunter easily copied him. The two brats, the two late sons of the Catalina name. She ignored the growing rage that she felt building up in her chest, like a heavy weight pressing down on her body roughly and screaming that she was never going to be good enough. Thankfully, Jon elbowed Mason in the stomach, the pain registering on his face, before his green eyes met hers, worried. If it weren't for him, she would have been gone last night. He was the only one holding her back; everyone else she despised with a passion, but he cared about her, and it was disturbing. If only she could bring him with her—no, terrible idea. He was going to be the Lord of the castle one day, and he couldn't abandon his position as heir of the name to help his kid sister.
She didn't even see her father look at her, as if she were an eyesore to look at. He was already stuffing his face full of the day's dinner. Alphonse glanced at her with utter concern, his head tilted in confusion. She managed to press on a reassuring smile before turning and holding gaze with the food in front of her. Her stomach growled, but she had no appetite. Still, if she was going to disappear tonight, she had to build up her energy.
The conversation was light banter around her. Alphonse poking questions at her brothers, making them think, while Mason recited difficult riddles that seemed to confuse him. Her father ordering more ale to drink rapidly, as he chugged down the most of his drink. Hunter laughing boyishly, still young enough to have a gentle chuckle. Jon asking about battles in the heart of the Capital amongst men. Stories of conquest from around the country as the main course was moved and thousands of delectable desserts covered the table.
Alyvia noticed that the one voice she despised the most had not risen. Her gaze glanced around the darkening table, where sat an empty seat claimed just for the Knight of Fullmetal. Her drunk father caught her looking and rolled his eyes. "The boy didn't come down for dinner." He spat before returning to that of his more righteous and worthy children. Surprised, she glanced at Alphonse for explaining. His blonde hair fell in the way of his eyes, tight lips hiding his distaste for the lack of his brother's presence.
"He didn't feel well. I'm afraid I might have roughed him up today." Jon explained, breaking her train of thought. Alyvia met his gaze, surprised at his answer, before nodding once. That explained the cut on his face he had been so focused on washing off that it poisoned her water. Once more in Jon's eyes, there was fear, fear she would leave. He must have realized that something sour had occurred between the two of them and he was scared.
She cleared her throat. "May I be excused?" She whispered, glancing towards her father nervously. He was clear inebriated and she couldn't stand to be around him when he was like this. His dark gaze gruffly dipped once, thankfully, and she inhaled sharply. Pushing back her chair, she stood before feeling a calloused hand on her wrist. Her eyes instantly flew to the golden ones of Alphonse. Concern once more filled them.
"Don't go near my brother." He whispered under his breath while the boys nudged each other, their laughter ringing up to the roof.
Confused and, of course, intrigued, she nodded briefly before he let her wrist slide through his fingers. She turned on her heel and walked out of the dining hall. There was a massive castle and yet, she wasn't quite sure where her father had placed their guests. Still she needed to find him, to knock some sense into him. Then again, she wasn't sure if she wanted to even breath in his presence, as if it were an insult to do so. He wasn't worthy of her speech. She paced back and forth in front of the scarlet steps. She honestly needed to be preparing for her escape in the dead of night instead of worrying about Alphonse's warning.
But, still, she wanted to hurt him for invading her privacy and space. She stopped pacing at the bottom of steps and started towards the more vacant parts of the castle. The drinking room, the north wing, all unused by her and her brothers because of their father's insane worries. The entrance to the crypts. Her father's massive room. The library—the door was open, a red cloak hanging on the handle. She froze mid-step. What was the Knight of Fullmetal doing reading in her father's library?
She peaked around the corner of the door and saw the thousands of books, most of them lining the floor to the middle of a circle. There he sat, his back facing her as he stared at a great encyclopedia. Sliding off her shoes, she set them by the door and inhaled softly; why had she come here? To exchange a few cruel words with him? To smack him around even though he was a well-trained knight? She had no idea why she had come, but she wasn't going to leave now that she was here. Quietly she stepped into the room, as if she were going to set off a trap he'd set just to catch intruders invading his study like her.
Her plan would have been fool-proof if she hadn't smacked a book with her toes and nearly screeched out in surprise. She was so close to him that the book she'd kicked just barely tapped him in the back. Her hands flew to her mouth as she waited for him to jump up and slap her for sneaking up on her like an improper woman, but he made no such movement. Before she could move, a loud snore echoed throughout the library, emitted from one golden haired knight.
He was asleep.
She cursed and turned on her heel once more, storming out of the library before he could wake up and see her spying on him.