darkness i became

Watching the sun slowly set from afar, she held a pad of paper and some charcoal in her hands as she slowly sketched the scene. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” she wondered aloud

isabella had strode into the room moments prior, peering out of the window to enjoy the scenery sans rain for the first time in days.  “ i suppose. “  she replied, quietly, lifting a finger to trace the stone the window was set in.  it was still grimy and moist from the days and days of rain.  “ i had forgotten that this landscape could reflect anything but grey. “

   Despite what might have been good intentions, Isabella’s words cut deep within Eleanor. She too had lost her own mother, and had just come out of mourning. Her colourful clothing had just come out of the trunks they had been packed away in, and all the clothing she had once loved had come back out for her to bask in. The colours were something that represented happiness - hope. Which was something that she felt the world needed during the horrendous time. However, black was not a colour she wanted to be back in. 

isabella remained stiff-necked and careful, hoping to erase further displeasure between their two persons: she knew it was underhanded to try to soften the princess by mentioning their mutual pain — a dead mother seemed to be a wonderful ice-breaker, though a morally objectionable one to count upon. 

i am learning to sharpen my teeth and rule kingdoms, instead.

   One minute she had been taking a break from dancing, enjoying her night, and the next, her favourite cream dress was becoming the victim of a crime that it would never come back from - a wine spill. 

isabella’s poise was unwavering underneath the force of impending scene; she was more than familiar with an impending eighteen-year-old dramas, considering her sister was prone to a few in a fortnight, along with half of the castle’s men, it seems.   “ your dress is ruined. “  isabella said, plainly, eyeing the stained pattern.  she fired off an order quietly, in tinkling spanish, waving her ladies back ten paces to speak with the princess plainly, although she did not affect a kinder tone. 

@iisabclla

isabella had not much to say about the rain or the storm; she did not mind much the wetness or the weather, but the constant noise and speak of it made her unreasonably cross with the entire census residing inside the castle.  she turned back to dionora, who was once her sister, and wrapped an arm around herself, clutching at her waist.  she watched her friend for a moment, and then waved down a serving girl.  “ a bottle of burgundy. strong. “  she called, staring the girl down.  “ and full. “

“ i see. “  isabella was not one to display her emotion on her face, and though she was displeased by the news, she remained focused on the window, forcing back any and all thought of it. her gaze snapped, rather suddenly, onto the priestess.   “ what do you mean of that ? “  she inquired of them, feeling much like a child at story time, quite curious and made younger by it.   a pause, and then she began quietly, diplomatic, unwilling to commit to a particular choice,  “ ...i do, your grace. but often i miss the touch of spanish sun. “

She walked outside to stand on the balcony and to enjoy the exhilaration of the approaching storm. The evening breeze, having gained momentum, was now a gusty wind, and the night sky was covered in clouds. Not a star was in sight. The wind whipped her hair from its pins and molded her gown to her body.  Even when the rain began to fall in huge droplets, she did not move.  Closing her eyes she deeply inhaled the fresh air, enjoying every vibrant scent it carried, the forest, the plants, the gardens from the castle grounds and a touch of the smell of rain. Finally, she lifted her head, her hair clinging to the side of her face. It was refreshing, as she let the rain trickle down her face, and she realized how much she missed it, lush and strong and just like home.

at first, isabella would think the girl had lost her mind and rush to the doorway leading out into the slick stone and the heavy rain; but as she peered out, it became apparent, then, that the woman seemed PLEASED by the sudden dousing of cold rainwater, and bella could do not but watch her little dance, nonplussed, and more than a little jealous. she wished she might be so carefree, so pleased by such a little thing as rain. it seemed to her the lady had a much better time in the moment than she. though she was refusing to even toe the threshold, almost too wary of the wet bleeding out the dark dye of her dresses into her skin, she watched, lost in thought.

open || 

isabella had somehow slipped away from the castilian party and was searching an unoccupied room in the center of the castle to escape the INCESSANT noise, though when the lady valentina seemed to address her, duty and finesse kept her in her place as she approached the younger girl.   “ i find i agree. “  she said, folding her hands in front of her, “ most days i begin by reading in the gardens. quite a disrupt in my routine; now i must not do. “

isabella had not stumbled upon the priestess before: she had heard rumors about them, about their strange and beautiful religion. though isabella was quite the pious woman, and was one to spend hours upon hours praying to her god for reassurance, she also felt quite.... curious about the person in front of her. clearly they could not be TOO different from her if they held impeccable love in their heart for their deity, as bella did. " forgive me, " bella began, though she would not curtsy. " but i am curious. has the rain lessened as of late ? "

Adela started as someone entered her workroom. She had been idly embroidering in front of the fire and had begun to sink into a nap, lulled by the drumming of the rain on the windowpanes and the warmth from the fire. 

henry frowned when the princess confessed that her ladies had probably abandoned her for more entertaining pursuits. personally, he would never have the gall to abandon his master nor a task to be completed. “if you are sure, my lady,” he conceded reluctantly. “though, if you would prefer, i could take any shirts you mentioned you mend to a seamstress? perhaps you do not dance, but nor should you be stuck in your suite mending shirts when the sun shines outside. there are hundreds of books in the library and many a warm spot in the gardens, if that is something you would do.”

“ i am. “  she addressed him absently, her mind wandering to her ladies’ pastimes. she longed to be as carefree.  “ no. i... i make the king’s shirts. and those of my brother. “  she quieted for a second, fiddling with her fingers.  “ my mother is gone. someone who loves kazimir must make him his shirts. ‘tis the principle of it all. “  her voice was far away. it was one of the last things she clung to of who she had been before her husband and child died: she took pride in her piety and loyalty.  “ thank you for your concern, master footman, but i... suspect my ladies deserve something more than i can give. “

the conversation, fake as it was, still acted as a distraction against more pressing thought.  “ yes, well enough. “  isabella knew that, though she and the valois line had not been taken by the sickness, each of them had been lost in some way. each of them changed greatly enough to have been lost. she summed up a perfect smile:  “ i thank you for your... kind words, lady valentina. “

isabella had followed her friend, struck by the sudden need to interact with someone who had once cared about her; though she had arrived to late to INTERCEPT the moment, which she would have with extreme displeasure, she approached her friend in sweeping strides and sidestepped the pan, staring off in the direction of the kitchen hand’s retreating figure.  “ would it please you to have his hands removed ? “  isabella asked, almost innocent for all she suggested.