Thread: Claim (Closed for Methos and FK)

Annalea huffed as her serving girl brushed her long golden hair, dragging the coarse horse hair brush through the locks with irritating clumsiness. The girl was new, and sorely testing Annalea's patience. She was ready to turn around and cuff the girl in the ear, but instead she watched herself in the mirror above her small, crudely crafted dressing table. Her long hair seemed to devour the light of the candle and reflect it back as it poured down her back and over her shoulders. Her blue eyes were as cold as the biting winds outside of her window. She smiled at he cold reflection, remembering how much it had cost her father to get this mirror. There was only one other in the entire castle. She watched herself pull a heavy fur blanket tight across her shoulders as the olive skinned serving girl fumbled again, this time tugging at her hair as the brush caught. Ow! Give me that damned brush, you ungainly wench! Annalea twisted in her chair and grabbed the girl's wrist, wrenching the brush from her hand and smacking her with the backside of it. The serving girl cried out in surprise and pain, and tried to pull away in fear, which only angered Annalea more. Get out of my room, you inept little urchin! Go! She let go of the girl's wrist with a push and sent her tumbling back on to her rear. The girl scurried quickly out of the room, shutting the door loudly behind her. Stupid, useless serving girl. She muttered to herself as she ran the brush through her hair herself, watching the light reflect off of it. It was amazing, she thought, hoe beautiful she was. Non one else in teh castle could boast of locks so golden, or eyes so blue, or skin so fair and smooth. She laughed quietly at the thought of any one of the other girls trying to take her place. In beauty, or anything else. She was the crowned princess, someday she would be queen, and rule all of the kingdom from her father's throne. It was almost difficult to wait. Annalea sighed happily to herself as she set the brush down, sitting up straighter in the mirror, looking at her perfect body. Full breasts, a small waist, full, child bearing hips. Someday she would choose to have children with her husband and make her own beautiful sons and daughters to take up her place. That would be wonderful, she thought. Annalea's pleasant thoughts were disrupted, quite suddenly, byt a scuffle outside of her door. She stood and pulled the heavy fur even tighter around herself, covering her thin white shift as she moved to the door and pushed it open slowly. She was surprised by a man's body tumbling strait at her, and she gave a cry of surprise as she stepped quickly out of the way. The body tumbled to her feet and she screamed again. She recognized the man as her door guard . . . minus his throat. She backed away as she looked through the doorrway, backing up to her small dressing table and stumbling with the draw that had been hidden away beneath the table top. She managed to pull the whole drawer out, and throwing it to the ground she armed herself with a six inch dagger heavily encrusted with rubies and emeralds. If someone was coming after her, she was going ot be ready- but what was going on? Father was secure in his throne, no one would ever try to overthrow him- would they?