Thread: Yesterday's Gone [HKitten & Pretty]

listulistulistulistulistulistu Daughter. The king's voice echoed through the throne room like thunder. Despite his old age, King Kadvar Nebre'seir still had the voice of a general, demanding respect and unquestioning obedience. Aislyn should have been immune to that voice after twenty years, but still that voice made her soul quake when directed at her. It was only in this tone that her father ever addressed her, and so Daughter-heir to the kingdom, Aislyn Faeyt Nebre'seir stepped forward, curtsying gracefully before her father. She remained that way, her head bowed and eyes cast down to the floor. She knew better than to assume that she could rise just because she was the princess. She had learned to stay in a perfect curtsy for hours until told to rise. She heard movement and a pair of shined boots came in her field of vision. Fine, silver embroidered knee-high boots with turned down cuffs. Whoever stood before her was obviously a noble. Her eyes remained on the floor, her slender body trembling slightly. She sent a silent prayer to the Mother Goddess that this was not the day she had been dreading since she was thirteen. I assume you know His Imperial Grace, Arch Duke Desian? Aislyn dared to raise her head to gaze up at him. He was a tall, dark imposing man. Streaks of gray ran through his dark brown hair. He must have been nearly twice her age, if not more. Aislyn murmured some greeting, she wasn't sure what. She was having trouble breathing, though she let none of it show on her face. It was apparently the right thing to say, for the older man took her hand and laid a kiss upon her white skin. It has been decided that he will be your husband, he father commented, as though the news did not completely shatter her world. The Arch Duke smiled down at her, a slight curve of his thin lips. It made him look cruel. Aislyn swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded dumbly, her golden locks falling over her shoulders with the movement, partially veiling her face from them. You are dismissed, daughter. We will make the arrangements for the wedding. Her father waved her away with a flick of his hand. She sunk into another deep curtsy, her knees shaking, and fled the throne room. She raced through the hallways, ignoring everyone she passed servant and noble alike, unlike she reached the royal stables. It had always been her haven to come to when she was upset. She had barely opened the stall and thrown her arms around her mare's neck before she succumbed to the tears. Her mare was gentle- tempered, a sandy color with a white main and tail. She matched her mistress's colorings well. She had been a gift from her mother when she had come of age. The mare shifted slightly, trying to turn her head to look at the weeping girl. Aislyn held her mare tightly around her thick neck, burying her face in the soft hair of her mane and crying silently, her shoulders shaking violently with her suppressed sobs. After several minutes, she sniffled and drew back from the mare. None of them care, Moonlight, she told the mare. They don't care what I feel about this. Quickly, she saddled the horse by herself and mounted, determined that if she couldn't escape her marriage, she could escape her feelings with the thrill of a ride. And with that, she set off towards the city. listulistu