CH1 HMTFC Revised
Reminder this is a project I'm working on . "Her Majesty, the Frailed Crown."
CHAPTER 1
She woke slowly, as though surfacing from something she couldn't quite remember falling into. She fluttered her eyelashes before sitting up and adjusting her eyes to the sparkling pale light bleeding though the dark mesh window curtains
She inhaled deeply. Immediately she noticed this breath did not come as easy. A strange tightness lingered in her chest.
She then…
She?
Who is She?
Her head throbbed as thoughts collided together.
Where she was.
Who she was.
What kind of place is this? The room seemed to grow warmer with every unanswered question. Heat pressed against her skin. Sweat gathered at her forehead and behind her neck. Her breathing quickened. Slowly, she forced herself to calm down. Pressing her trembling hand against her temple before wiping the sweat from her brow. For a moment she thought she was going to pass out even though she had just woken up.
Silence returns… but only for a moment.
Whispers suddenly filled the air. Small whispers with different voices layered over one another in uneven pitches.. All repeating the same thing.
“...enine…” the voice whispers.
What was that?
She began looking around in the air for the holder of the voices.
“Rowenine...” they whispered once more..
“Rowenine!” The whispers said more boldly. She looked everywhere for the holders of the voices but could only see the room she appeared in. The voices kept on and on overlapping each other.
“Where are you?”
“Rowenine.”
“The flowers.”
It didn't make sense.
“Rowenine.”
“Stop it.” She said demandingly.
“Rowenine. Rowenine!” The whispers screeched once more.
“Enough!” She yelled.
And just like that they seemed to have vanished from the room. After taking a few deep breaths and wiping the droplets off her forehead away, she finally calmed the rest of her thoughts.
Rowenine?
“Why did they keep repeating that?” She wondered. After giving it a few more thoughts she came to a conclusion. Her name. That was her name, Rowenine. Now that-that was settled she needed to figure out where she was. Rowenine looked around the dull room she appeared in. She looked at her clothes that appeared to be a little outdated and washed of color. She ran her hand over the quilted blanket she sat on and realized that it just so happens to have the shades of her favorite color. In fact the whole room- No– not just the room. The entire atmosphere seemed drenched in her favorite color. It was purple. But not the purple that is bright and makes you squint your eyes to its boldness. No this room was filled with the purple that you see sometimes in storms or on a foggy night. At least that's what it reminds Rowenine of.
What else?
Rowenine finally stands up from the huge bed and takes a look around. She starts to make sense of the objects in the room now. There was candlelight coming from 3 tall candles sitting on a night stand next to the bed, an empty glass flower vase, and dark purple stone walls with traces of gold veins running through them. She looked across the room and saw a decent sized oval shaped mirror hung above a vacant black wooden desk. As she glances its way she can't quite make out her face. Her reflection appeared smeared, almost unfinished.
“Maybe it's just dirty” She thinks.
Rowenine then starts walking to the mirror. Her bare feet slowly sliding across the cold dark marbled floor. It isn't until she is right up to the mirror that she can make out her facial features.
“Have I always had such smooth skin?” She thought.
Touching her warm, bronze toned skin with her finger tips, she looked herself in the eyes trying to see past the mirror but only seeing her deep blue eyes that almost appeared black staring back at her. Something felt off. Although she recognized that the reflection was her, she didn't feel fully familiar to herself. She kept staring and gently caressing her face in the eerie mirror. The more she stared, the more her mind wondered. Then, something simple caught her eye.
A brush. A brush that sat next to her hand on the desk. Rowenine studied it. The handle curved in an unnatural smooth twist. At first glance it resembled polish wood,but the surface carried no grain in the faint candle light, only vague ivory ridges spiraling along it like frozen veins.
Rowenine hesitated before touching it. Lifting the strange brush carefully, turning it once in her hand before drawing it through her midnight colored mane.The bristles were surprisingly soft. Even though her hair was lengthy and tangled, the brush glided through it with ease. Once done brushing, she sets the brush back down in its resting spot. She slips her fingers through her thigh lengthed hair and is admiring the job the little eerie thing did. Then, she traced back to the window light coming from out of the corner of her eye. She walks towards the arched window hoping to see where she is.
As she lingered at the window , her fingers brushed the cold gemstone like frame. The window appeared unfinished. It was missing its glass pane. She began to look out the paneless frame and saw quiet dawn turning to a beautifully colored night sky. Rowenine also noticed something a bit more astonishing. When she looked down to see how high she was from the ground, she quickly realized she was dozens of stories above a ground she could not see. A ground that she assumes lurks below the sparkling fog.
“A castle.” She whispered, amazement slightly peaking through her voice. “I'm in a castle.”
Although her mind was blocking out some details she knew about castles. She once, somewhere, had many books about them. The kings and queens that ruled them. The maids and jesters. Ferocious hungry dragons or kind gentle ones. Courageous knights who protected their causes and reasons. She always wanted to meet a Knight. In her books Knights were dashing and chivalrous.
Suddenly, a strange noise pulled her out of her brief daydream and placed her back into the mysterious room.
Knock. Knock…Knock.
The third knock arrived delayed, almost uncertain. Rowenine jumped at the sound of the noises on the timbered door. She scrambled across the bed and disappeared beneath the heavy quilts, dragging pillows around herself like a barricade. A creak in the door was heard as she peaked out the blanket ever so carefully. Something entered the room. From beneath the blankets she could make out only a shadow with two legs, yet each step rang with the sound of metal. The shadow and the metal noise started to get closer to the makeshift bunker Rowenine had made.
Should she scream?
Could she scream?
Multiple thoughts were running through her head. It was starting to get hot under the quilt but she remained frozen trying to keep an eye on the noisy shadow. The metal footsteps stopped. Silence swallowed the room. Rowenine held her breath beneath the quilts, her pulse pounding so violently she was certain the creature could hear it. She felt a wave of discomfort knowing the creature was still out there.
Suddenly–A large hand tore the blankets away. She quickly recoiled to the back of the bed right up against the cold stone wall. Her breath, heavy and shaky. More sweat began to run down her forehead onto the bridge of her nose. All she saw at first was the outline of a towering figure. Then, the figure spoke.
“My Lady.” The figure said. Its voice is low and heavy, though not harsh.
After the whispers that haunted her earlier, hearing a voice that belonged to something real felt almost comforting but she quickly had to make a move. She did not know this creature. It could be dangerous. It could want to kill her or want to cut off her hair like in that one book she read. The creature reached its hand towards her direction as she was pinched in the corner but she quickly swatted it away. The material on its hand made a clank when she hit it back and Rowenine began to hold her hand in sudden pain.There was no where she could go. The creature was blocking her in the corner. It tried speaking again but this time when it reached its hand out once more she crawled under the reached out arm and tried escaping out the door it entered from. As she pulled and pulled in fear she could not get the door open. She banged on it a few times before she flinched in pain once more. The wooden door had cut her dominant hand where she was hitting it against the door. She turned towards the creature and placed her back on the door and slid down to the floor. Her breath still heavy.
Was this it? She would die not knowing where she is or how she got there? As the creature inched closer toward her she saw the light from the curtains slowly creeping across the figure. The light made its body begin to shine revealing why it made such a loud clunky noise. Metal caught first– dull, dark, and heavy. The once silhouetted body now began to shape into armor. It was a man. A man wrapped almost entirely in shiny black steele and a unique black leather. A helmet that almost appeared to have sharp fangs on the edges of it concealed most of his face, leaving only slivers of shadow where his features should be. After a few more glances Rowenine noticed the man also carried a sword at his side hidden in the leather. Surely this scary beast couldn't be a knight. She had to get a closer look.
“Are you going to hurt me?” She asked in fear.
The armoured man didn't say anything. Instead it reached out and went to grab the hand Rowenine was hiding with her other. As it went to grab it she hesitated at first but he waited for her to approve of his gesture. The man grabbed the bleeding hand and wrapped it in a dark blue fabric he had pulled from a small bag on his belt.. Once done the knight began to rise to his feet while also helping Rowenine to hers.
“My lady. Are you alright?" He ended their brief moment of silence with a question.
“I- um…. Thank you. No, I'm fine um.. Who are you?” She wiped the hair out of her face with the now wrapped hand.
He paused for a second not making eye contact with her.
“Im one of the palace guards, My Lady.”
Palace? Guard? So he really is a knight. And she really is in a castle.
He guided her to the edge of the bed where she now sat looking up in awe at him.
A real knight.
The fear that once had a hold of her soon disappeared from Rowenine. She quickly stood on the bed, on her knees meeting where the knight's face was. She wanted to examine his features closer. Was he really real? Maybe he could help her and she could figure out how she got here.
“My lady.” The knight began, attempting to speak but Rowenine's curiosity cut him short. She reached for his arms,inspecting the intricate details of the metal armor. Then she scooted closer and tilted her head to study his face. Most of it was hidden by the fanged helmet, only fragments of his features visible through the shadowed metal. Even his cheeks were obscured but she could make out what was seen of his mostly hidden eyes. Brown. Steady. Watchful.
“Turn this way.” Rowenine instructed.
“My Lady we really should–” He tried once more to speak but the words fell away as she remained focused entirely on him, as if he was the only thing in the room. Forgetting she was once afraid of him, she turned him towards the light that came through the curtains. There, Rowenine saw a ring of black around his pupils. They were swallowed by a deep reddish brown. Near the center lingered traces of a softer gold. After examining him she then realized that she did not know who this man was or why he was calling her “My Lady.” She quickly began to back up and come to her senses.
“Who are you?” She asked again but only a little more stern this time.
“My lady,” he said. “ I am Sir Rellik. I am here to serve as your escort during your stay here at the castle.”
Escort?
Stay?
Once again, confusion lingered in her mind. She had no idea where she was, or what Sir Rellik truly was. Though as he spoke she could see small pointed canine teeth in the bottom of his mouth. Another unique quality to this mysterious man. He appeared… charming. But so are most troublemakers. Something so composed, so polite must be an arrow wrapped in silk.
She shifted back slightly from the knight, still seated on the quilted, drawing a quiet line of distance and boundary between them.
“Sir Rellik.” She said as she straightened her back and acted to dust off her shirt that covered her thighs. “Where am I?” She asked in a polite yet almost demanding way. He didn't give her a direct answer, instead he said, “My Lady. Please, grace the others here with your presence.” His voice carried a strange calm even if he did not answer the question. “Dinner has already been prepared. Your presence would honor the halls of this palace.” He gestured his hand towards garments laid neatly on the desk.
“The maids have selected attire more suitable for this evening. I shall return shortly. Then hopefully some of your questions I could answer.”
Sir Rellik then approached the door and without any effort pulled it open. His gaze lingered on her a moment too long. As though reassuring himself she was truly there. He shut the door behind him and Rowenine listened to the clanky metal sound fading away. When she could no longer hear it she turned her head toward the desk that now held a dress and other accessories to match it. Carefully, she made her way to the clothes. They were beautiful. At least better than the rags she was wearing. In fact, after further inspection of the dress it was so beautiful in a way that almost unsettled her. Black lace flowers climbed the long sleeves like smoke, while deeper crimson fabric wrapped around her torso beneath gold chains and jeweled leafy embroidery. The dress ended with heavy layered red fabric flowing at the bottom. The black floral embroidery disappearing into the black gradient at the end. It looked royal. After Rowenine got the dress on, she admired its beauty in the mirror. She loved the way the fancy stitching appeared to sparkle. She really couldn't see herself in anything but clothing like this now that she was out of the old rags she had woken up in. She put on the pair of matching black and red jeweled short heeled heels and watches as she stood up and they disappeared under the dress. The only hint of them there was the small clicks when she walked. She admired herself in the mirror. Something really did seem off but she couldn't help but feel beautiful.
The time came for Sir Rellik to return. Three knocks. All following the same tune as the very first time she heard them. She didn't say a word and watched as the door slowly opened. The knight, the same creature that she had feared as a shadow creature, stood fully formed in the steel and leather he had first been seen in earlier, now lingering in the doorway.
“My Lady,” he said softly. “If you are ready we shall make our way to the dining room.”
Rowenine hesitated a moment, getting one last look and twirl at her in the beautiful dress, but eventually made her way out the door. The knight's hand was held out as for her to have hers fall into it but she completely ignored it. The knight, unbothered, shut the door behind them and the pair made their way down the eerie halls to the dining room the knight spoke of.
Was she crazy? Allowing a strange man to escort her through a strange castle? Possibly. But curiosity got the better of her.
The halls of the castle were surprisingly quiet. She brushed her hand along the walls feeling the cold stone as her and the knight walked the long path. Their footsteps echoed. His a steady, heavy rhythm, of metal. Hers lighter, uncertain. She began to say something but suddenly, there they were again.
The whispers.
She paused in her footsteps and Sir Rellik quickly paused after. The voices began to speak.
“Rowenine..War…Please..”
“Do you hear that?” she asked. A small panic quickly took over her body.
Sir Rellik did not look at her. Instead he adjusted his feet and began moving forward slightly as if guiding her attention forward.
“Only what is expected in these halls.” He spoke softly.
Once again not a direct answer but the voices didn't follow as she met back up with his pace. She wished she knew what they meant. Why was she hearing them? As they walked through the long gemmed halls, Rowenine's eyes wandered along some of the stone that appeared to have a purple vine growing through some of the golden cracks. The vine appeared to breathe. She quickly jolted her hand back into her own company. An interesting plant. One she's never seen or heard of before and she knew of a lot of plants. They continued down the hall. No words spoken between the two for a good distance. That was, until Rowenine finally broke the silence.
“So… this is a castle.” She asked at last.
“Yes.” Sir Rellike replied without any hesitation. She hummed softly, now looking upward.
“A castle.” She repeated as if testing the word itself.
“Yes.” He said again.
“Interesting.” She murmored. “So a castle like this–”
“My Lady,” Sir Rellik finally glances her way, stopping her mid sentence with a question of his own. “Is there something specific you would like me to clarify?”
“I suppose I'm just trying to understand… if this truly is a castle.” She quickly came up with a question. “Does it have a ruler?”
A quiet moment passed with only the echo of their footsteps heard but soon followed his answer.
“Yes there is a ruler.”
“Oh.” She tilted her head. “Whats their name?”
“Prince Luek.”
“Will he be joining us?” She asked. A brief pause filled the air.
“I do not know.” He said at last. “I suppose not. He was not prepared for something like this. “ Rowenine frowned slightly.
Like this?
Sir Rellik kept his gaze forward as they walked. “It is best not to dwell on uncertain things, My Lady.” he commented as if he knew what was on her mind. “Some things unfold as they are meant to. In.. unexpected ways. The prince is a very busy man especially now.”
Rowenine studied him for a moment, swearing he saw the corner of his lips move slightly upwards. She was definitely wary of him but she couldn't leave his side. They had already taken so many twists and turns she couldn't remember the direction of the room she came from. And if she ran where would she go? Who could be waiting to stop and possibly end her life? Was she in a good castle or enemy territory? She had to stay by him until she could figure this place out.
The walk to dinner felt like forever. Down halls. Down stairs. Rowenine felt like her feet were going to fall off. As they walked, no more words were spoken for a good while. That's when she heard more whispers. This time though, they didn't feel like the empty voices she had heard earlier. This time she was able to spot two more figures lurking in a door frame's shadow from down a lone hall off to the side. Both of the figures appeared small, almost child size. One appearing slightly taller than the other..
“Thats her.” One of the small figures whispered. “Shhhh.” The other one quieted her.
Maybe she was too far but their faces also appeared to be faded into the shadows as well but it was also late at night. Hard to see so far. It almost eased her uneasy feeling knowing that she was not alone in this castle with a strange knight and an unknown prince. Knowing that this could in fact be a kingdom with subjects. She slowed her pace to attempt to wave at the shadows but was interrupted by Sir Rellik's voice.
“Just up ahead, My lady. The dining room.” He gave a quick glare at the shadow figures and they dispappered into the room they lingered out of.
Towering over them was a set of double doors opening by themselves. As the doors opened it revealed a circular room with walls of a deep purple and black gradient. Almost appearing as polished amethyst. Slivers of gold between the cracks and of course the breathing vines making an appearance here and there. A massive round table with many purple cushioned seats sat at the center beneath the high ceiling that housed a mural above. What appeared to be two species of winged creatures with human appendages hiding their faces with their cloth and weapons. Weapons that clashed beneath a celestial glow in the dark sky with thousands of golden stars watching as they appeared to fight in their painted world. But why? Three towering arched windows also made an appearance along the gemed wall. Their deep purple curtains hang heavily against the stone floor. Outside the glass was the dark night with more pale mist.
As Rowenine stepped further into the room she took notice of the people who stood silently along the walls in their dark uniforms. All of them dressed the same. A black chest plate and tall black hats. Their hands folded neatly before them as if they had been waiting long before she arrived. None of them spoke. None of them moved.The whole room was beautiful, but in a way that continued to unsettled her. Like a place designed for glorious ceremonies she did not remember attending.
Sir Rellik made his way to the table and pulled out one of the many purple cushioned chairs gathered around the table and gestured for Rowenine to take a seat. She did, but still not looking away from the mural above her she was marveling at.
“Time to feast.” His voice woke her from the trance the room had on her. He lifted one hand in a slow, conducting motion toward the servants lining the curved walls.
At once, the room moved.
A set of tall curved doors Rowenine had not noticed before, hiding between servants suddenly opened. Warm light spilled from within as more uniformed people emerged in silence, each carrying polished silver trays balanced carefully in gloved hands.
The smell reached her first.
Rich spices.
Fresh bread.
Roasted meats glazed in sauces that shimmered beneath the candlelight. Colorful fruits split open like jewels. Pastries dusted delicately with sugar. Vegetables prepared so beautifully they hardly looked real. Dish after dish covered the table. Yet despite the abundance, Rowenine noticed something. No soups. No broths. Nothing warming or healing. Only extravagant foods that seemed to be prepared just for the sole purpose of admiration. She pushed the silly thought to the back of her mind. She watched as the tall-hatted people moved with eerie precision around the table. Overlapping each other placing each dish on the table.
Last came the centerpiece. A servant approached carrying a tray of arranged flowers for the center of the table. He elegantly placed the florals on the table and with just the right amount of force and pushed it to the center. Rowenine watched as it barely made a sound as it glided to its spot and rested. The tray consisted of deep crimson roses, pale lilacs lilies, and only one black tulip. The bouquet was beautiful, but almost mournful. Between the flowers she could see small animal skulls of some sort poking out. Mouse sized. A bit tasteless but it did somehow blend in with the florals.
When the final tray had been placed the servants retreated once more to the walls in perfect silence. Behind her, Sir Rellik remained standing. Straight-backed. Arms crossed neatly behind him. Watching. Every chair surrounding the massive table remained empty. Rowenine glanced slowly around her.
“So… no one else is coming?” Her voice echoed farther than it should have.
Sir Rellik's expression did not change. “Not tonight.”
“But all of this…” She gestured towards the feast before her, “ For one person?”
“You should eat, My Lady”
That answer settled nothing. Still, she began to eat. SHe picked up the fancy dinner utensils laid before her with her bandaged hand. The quiet pressed harder against her ears as she picked at the food. Fork against porcelain became the loudest sound in the room. Quiet moments passed as she calmly ate the food before her. Some of it tasted amazing. Some of it she had never heard of. Her stomach began to fill. She then noticed that everyone was staring at her. All the men wrapped around the walls. Watching. Waiting.
“Um can i have some-” She was cut off by one of the servants quickly and peacefully placing a glass of sparkling crimson liquid in front of her. He then moved back into his position and stayed still as if he had never moved. “Oh.. thank you.” She said quietly. She took a sip and went back to picking at her food. Eventually she looked back at him.
“You’ve been standing there this entire time. Aren't you hungry?”
“No.”
She frowned and lifted a small plate toward him anyway. “You can have some.”
For the first time since dinner began, he moved. One leather-gloved hand lifted between them, palm outward in a calm, almost rehearsed refusal.
“No, thank you.”
Rowenine slowly lowered the plate back to the table. The candles on the walls flickered as she ate and gazed at the arched windows.
Wondering.
Dreaming.
What is this place?
Eventually after she had her share, a chair scraped softly against the marbled floor as Rowenine began to rise from the table.
“ I think I should–”
Her sleeve caught the stem of a glass she had not noticed sitting near the edge. It tipped and sparkling crimson liquid spilled in a sudden wave before splashing against the front of her dress. Rowenine gasped and stepped back.
“Oh– I'm sorry, I didn't mean–”
Before the glass had even finished rolling, Sir Rellik lifted two fingers. The servants moved instantly. Not startled. Not hurried. Several glided forward in silence, blotting the spill with folded cloths. One servant knelt at Rowenine's side to dab carefully at the stained fabric while another picked up the glass and wiped it clean.
“ I'm so sorry,” Rowenine repeated,mortified. “I didn't even see it there.”
Sir Rellik did not acknowledge the apology. Not once. Instead his gaze settled calmly on the dark stain spreading across her gown.
“Come. Let's get you out of those clothes.” The words were gently yet firm. “I am certain the maids have already laid out something more comfortable for you to sleep in.”
Rowenine opened her mouth again, still trying to apologize, but he continued before she could.
“Tommorow,” He said guiding her out of the dining room, “Perhaps some of your many question you have I may be able to answer."
As she was escorted out of the room she looked back at the servants cleaning the table in total silence. As though an interruption had never happened. She wondered what would happen to all the leftover food. So much leftover food. Was it to be wasted? Discarded as though those who prepared it meant nothing? She wondered.
The walk back to her chambers felt shorter somehow. A soft echo of their footsteps followed through the dim corridors. When the doors to her room finally opened, Rowenine stepped in, mildly surprised.
Of course the clothes were already waiting. Folded neatly across the end of her bed sat a pale pink sleep set. An oversized night shirt with an ombre of colors starting with a dull pink and ending with white at the top. The fabric was delicate. Accompanied by soft frilled sleeves and a soft ruffled neckline. It was paired with matching sleeping shorts. Beside them rested a silver tray with fresh water and a single candle already lit. Everything was prepared before she had even arrived. As though the castle itself knew she was coming back. Back to where she started. No questions answered. The dinner was a fluke in trying to gain information. The silent Knight can not even answer her simplest of questions.
Rowenine slowly crossed the room toward the bed she first appeared on, fingers brushing lightly on the fabric. Behind her, Sir Rellik remained near the doorway.
“I hope,” he said quietly, "your first night here with us at the castle was not entirely unpleasant.”
She turned to look at him with a small growl to her voice. Rowenine was irritated.
“ There's still so much you haven't explained.” She said,
Sir Rellik remained quiet in the doorway. Rowenine waited a few moments for a response from him but then continued.
“You promise you’ll keep your word? You'll answer my questions tomorrow?”
For a moment, only silence answered her. Then-
“My lady,” he replied smoothly, “you are tired.”
A perfect evasion.
“Rest now.”
The reply tightened frustration in her chest, but exhaustion weighed heavier. Slowly but hesitantly she nodded and she sat on the bed with the now dried stain on the front of her dress. The doors began to close between them. Almost shut.
“Oh… and My Lady?”
Rowneine paused and looked back up at the entry way. Sir Rellik stood unmoving in the frame. One hand resting lightly against the door frame. His expression remained calm. He then began to speak once more.
“ A princess should never apologize.”
Then the doors closed gently between them, leaving Rowanine alone in the castle once more. That sentence alone is the only thing she clung to to keep company.
A princess?
It caught her off guard. As if him deterring her question all night wasn't enough now he's spewing random nonsense.
Gently Rowenine slipped into her sleepwear. Carefully trying not to touch the bandaged finger. It didn't hurt as much as it did earlier but she didn't see any more bandages to fix it back up if it got ruined. Once dressed in the night attire she placed the stained dress over a chair by the desk, and laid down on the bed.
Princess?
Her?
She began to drift asleep. She didn't want to. Would she still wake up in this place? In this… Palace? The longer she closed her eyes, the more her mind began to rest.
