I'm having some issues, so I'm re-uploading the work ;) hopefully this works out.
One year.
The scent of spices was heavy on the air, sharp and tangible. Streamers of cool blue and purple were placed on doorways and fences, pinned up by bundles of paper flowers the craftsmen painstakingly made. There was an air of festivity, yes, but also an air of worry.
Queen Ariana of Terrelain surveyed the courtyard before her. The festivals would go on as usual, as her husband had told her to do should it happen, but there was the lack of usual excitement in her eyes.
How could you celebrate life when your sons, husbands, brothers and fathers were away in a war?
One year since Ariana had bid Kylen and Bleston goodbye.
It felt like centuries ago.
The courtyard itself was bustling with servants running to and fro with freshly made food-the source of the fragrance in the air.
"Mother," Ariana's youngest daughter peered through the door. Evelen, said daughter, had a circlet of flowers twisting upon her brow. Tonight, she was old enough to be sought after by bucks. She was rather excited about it. "There's someone here to see you and Naylen."
"Of course, I'll be right there," Ariana straightened her own crown-not made of flowers, but of white jewelled stars-and followed after Evelen.
What did Kylen look like now? When he had come back from Natalia, he had appeared distraught, sickly. Ariana had insisted they wait before listening to Ambassador Longtreader's requests so Kylen could recover. How was he now?
Ariana descended into the throne room. Evelen lingered back, and Ariana sent her a look. "Go see if your siblings have gotten in trouble," she said. If it was just for her and Naylen, then Evelen had to leave.
The messenger was from the army. Ariana exchanged a confused glance with Naylen, questioning.
Word from the army? Ariana had waited a year.
"Your Majesty, Your Highness," the messenger bowed to each in turn. "I bring...devastating news."
Naylen frowned.
Ariana inclined her head. "Go on," she prompted him.
"His Majesty King Bleston has fallen in battle," the messenger said.
Ariana's eyes widened. The world seemed to tunnel in on the messenger. "How?" she practically demanded.
"Murdered," the messenger said. "Murdered by Picket Longtreader."
One year.
