Post by Severin Rosenquist on Jan 11, 2017 22:37:56 GMT -5
The farther they traveled from Vanderhall, the heavier the pit in his stomach became. Severin thought it a great sense of irony, really. Kidnapping a member of the royal family, a princess no less, was a crime punishable by death. They could have been exposed at any moment during their daring plan. Yet, that did not happen and Severin’s head was still fixed upon his shoulders. Yet, the sense of dread and foreboding did not dissipate. Eventually, he concluded the feeling was actually guilt.
The man could already predict just how Mariette was going to respond her situation. She would, of course, be perfectly justified. The pragmatic side of him insisted that he was doing the right thing. After all, what was one person against the fate of an entire royal dynasty? The Deverauxs would hardly go to war after one person. Surely, given their dire circumstances, they would be more reasonable than that.
Yet, Severin had to prepare himself for the possibility of making several enemies for life. But, again, he reminded himself: it was for the good for the family and thus the kingdom.
To distract himself from such thinking (a nigh impossible task), Severin took quite seriously the duty of looking after their ‘package.’ Severin hated keeping her in such a state, but the risk of exposure was too high. He was reassured, more than once, that the herbal blending being use would not harm her aside from making her dim and foggy. It also made her more susceptible to suggestion, it seemed, which was fortunate. After all, she did need to eat, drink and do other various elements of living.
Only once they were in Lindblum and approaching Tradholm did Severin start to feel some ease. They arrived at the palace in the late hours of the night, which Severin supposed was fitting. There was no need for the whole of the city to know just what their darling Crown Prince had been up to. Reunions and tours for Rosalinda would have to wait: rest and recovery was far more important.
The princess was spirited up to chambers reserved for guests of state. The Spire of Lindblum could never been described as graceful or ornate, but striking and present. The building was comprised of angles, straight and true. The stone was dark and seemingly ancient, as though the place were extracted straight from the bedrock and chiseled into form. Towers and parapets stabbed into the sky, only to be softened by the fluttering banners of kingdom’s colors.
Fortunately, the interior was not so harsh in appearance. The place was warmly lit with impressive chandeliers and candelabras, the stony walls covered with art, tapestries and banners, and dark, rich wooden furniture gave it a homey and warm feeling. Mariette’s room was no exception. The four poster bed in which she slept was comfortable as a cloud, with its feather filled mattress and pillows. Warmth would never be an issue, not with the impressive fur blanket that covered her slumbering form.
But soon she would waken, and the next chapter would begin…
Mariette Deveraux
The man could already predict just how Mariette was going to respond her situation. She would, of course, be perfectly justified. The pragmatic side of him insisted that he was doing the right thing. After all, what was one person against the fate of an entire royal dynasty? The Deverauxs would hardly go to war after one person. Surely, given their dire circumstances, they would be more reasonable than that.
Yet, Severin had to prepare himself for the possibility of making several enemies for life. But, again, he reminded himself: it was for the good for the family and thus the kingdom.
To distract himself from such thinking (a nigh impossible task), Severin took quite seriously the duty of looking after their ‘package.’ Severin hated keeping her in such a state, but the risk of exposure was too high. He was reassured, more than once, that the herbal blending being use would not harm her aside from making her dim and foggy. It also made her more susceptible to suggestion, it seemed, which was fortunate. After all, she did need to eat, drink and do other various elements of living.
Only once they were in Lindblum and approaching Tradholm did Severin start to feel some ease. They arrived at the palace in the late hours of the night, which Severin supposed was fitting. There was no need for the whole of the city to know just what their darling Crown Prince had been up to. Reunions and tours for Rosalinda would have to wait: rest and recovery was far more important.
The princess was spirited up to chambers reserved for guests of state. The Spire of Lindblum could never been described as graceful or ornate, but striking and present. The building was comprised of angles, straight and true. The stone was dark and seemingly ancient, as though the place were extracted straight from the bedrock and chiseled into form. Towers and parapets stabbed into the sky, only to be softened by the fluttering banners of kingdom’s colors.
Fortunately, the interior was not so harsh in appearance. The place was warmly lit with impressive chandeliers and candelabras, the stony walls covered with art, tapestries and banners, and dark, rich wooden furniture gave it a homey and warm feeling. Mariette’s room was no exception. The four poster bed in which she slept was comfortable as a cloud, with its feather filled mattress and pillows. Warmth would never be an issue, not with the impressive fur blanket that covered her slumbering form.
But soon she would waken, and the next chapter would begin…
Mariette Deveraux