Beautiful Eternity
The carriage rocks uncertainly. Rydia takes a gulp of fresh air. Her hands shake. Her eyes dart. Her lower lip trembles. The kingdom of Baron is unlike anything she's known before. Her heart hammers mercilessly. She presses against the plush silks of the sedan.
A shiver races down her spine. The hands of the peasants cling to the guards that pave the road. Some stretch further out and are swiftly dealt with. Their inability to physically touch Rydia is rendered useless. Their wails are impossible to ignore.
"Are you unwell, Rydia?"
She glances up and feigns that she isn't on the verge of retching with anxiety. The smile that scratches across her face throbs with a faint sort of aching. Her dull eyes contrast starkly with her wintry pallor. The unease ripples through her stomach.
She nods politely. "I am well, mother. You have no need to worry about this union,"
For the briefest of moments her mother appears almost disappointed. A naïve hope sprouts in her heart. She quells it swiftly and turns her strength to impeding the sound of the people's wails. A ghost of a palpitation murmurs in her chest. She sighs sharply. The nausea fades slightly. She retreats into herself with a fervent hope that fate deals her a better hand than it has ever thought to before.
The flicker of gilded crimson sparks amongst the crowd. Rosa slips back into the inky depths of the alleyway. She draws the mask from her face. A mild glimmer of distaste blossoms across her features. She would drop it if such an act had any benefits.
Around a corner she finds near emptiness. The jostle at the far away end tells of an angered crowd. She sneaks to a sewer. The cover is half off. Putrid black liquid burbles and froths. A strange swamp green lines the liquid.
She murmurs in her quietest tone. "The princess has arrived,"
The liquid erupts with a toxic spray. It sears through the upper skirt with deep black burns. Rosa rips the upper layers away. It cannot be allowed to touch her. She exhales sharply, retreating with haste. A hateful chortle explodes in her ears. The oblivious crowd remains lost in their ignorance.
She flees to the edge of the masses. A crumpled silhouette hunches feebly. The cloak is ripped from his skeletal shoulders. The clasp fastens and Rosa belongs, again, to shadows. She presses against the dripping walls of sodden stone.
A hand brushes against her shoulder. "Come now, Rosa. We would do well not to keep the prince waiting,"
She nods slowly. "Yes,"
The shadowed gleam of Kain's armour infects her eyes. The darkness is impenetrable. Even the burbling sewer seems to acknowledge that. She clutches at the fabric closest to her heart. It beats against her. She closes her eyes, inhaling sharply. Even her body rebels against her actions.
Cecil rises, head held high in princely glory. The silver of his crown glistens proudly. He watches Rydia approach with her head held equally high. She allows none of her anxieties to destroy the façade of cold composure.
They roving, featureless eyes of the nobles travel by her side. Their casual disinterest scalds the air with iciness. She watches her betrothed and allows the faintest slumping of her shoulders. There is no sudden abundance of love - unrequited or otherwise- and the bitter reality twists her temperament.
"The princess of Mist approaches: her Royal Highness Rydia!"
She halts before the steps to the throne and drops to her knees, inclining her head as is custom of her people.
"You may rise,"
She obeys at once. Looking up, the world sways and contorts to shadows and sorrows. The feeling that she should be wearing a griever's veil comes to mind. Instead she smiles as graciously as is possible to the prince. He smiles in return, a polite, courtly smile that bears little sincerity. As her parents move to stand by her side the relief of their presence soothes her.
Her father bows first. "Ah, Lord of all of Baron, King to the Stars, how pleased I am to stand in your gracious presence,"
The King of Baron laughs. "It is indeed a great pleasure to see you too. You must tell me of your journey. Did you travel well on my new roads?"
The guests settle into small conversations of their own. Her father ventures up to the King of Baron. Two of the Royal Guard of Baron step into stride with him. The Queen of Mist, fluttering her eyes and smiling fallaciously, wanders away to speak with nobles. Standing by herself Rydia almost collapses.
There was no protocol given to her. She glances to her father, to her mother. She knows not where she should be or what she should do. The silks of her sleeves shiver. She takes deep, choking breaths but the anxiety strengthens.
The prince is turned away. He chuckles and converses with his mother. A strange loneliness touches Rydia. She speaks rarely to her mother, and when she does it is because she was summoned to discuss politics or etiquette.
"Are you well, princess?"
She turns. "Yes, I am,"
The lie is plain to hear. The woman merely smiles, her gilded hair shimmering as sunlight. Her eyes, of truest emerald, glisten softly.
"Are you all right, princess?" she enquires after a moment's stunned silence.
Rydia swiftly regains her detachment. "I have answered you. Do you insult me? Who are you?"
The woman smiles as she tucks her hair behind her ear. "My name is Rosa. I serve the Royal House of Baron. My services are often summoned for by our prince Cecil,"
Rydia's fists clench loosely but little wrath is conjured. "Is that to remain so?"
Rosa stammers, caught off guard. "I am no threat to you, princess. Our prince is your betrothed. He knows loyalty only to you,"
"What an uncommon response. Of course I shan't suspect you," she turns and hastens through the shifting crowd.
Her eyes blaze with artificial anger. None recognise her in passing as they chatter idly to one another. A great hall stretches out from behind two grand doors. She throws them open and enters into the swarming shadows. There, even her foot falls sound softer.
Author's Note: Oh, I am so excited! I can't sleep so I'm uploading this! I'm going to my first Comic Con today. I've made my own Cosplay, the first, again. Oh, making an outfit is rather hard... I've loved every moment, though. There is no pleasure quite like wearing something that you've spent months making. That being said, it wouldn't have taken as long if I were more diligent, and I do sort of wish I'd chosen someone from Xian Jiàn instead. Perhaps, maybe I should have gone with Líng'er or Twilight... Ah! I'm losing track! The other reason that I had not uploaded this sooner was because I was on holiday. They were charging money for use of the wi-fi, which, according to my former telecommunications father, is free. That and I now have the flu, and hay fever, and a sore ankle from the trip and a fluctuating temperature. Who knew Scotland would be fifteen degrees celsius at night? Oh, and, I've been obsessed with Itazura na Kiss. I'm sorry. I can't help it. I don't usually finish a series no matter how I love it and this... anime and adaptation with four more lined up and my obsession without any end in sight... *sigh*
Ah, I do hope that I haven't lessened your disposition.