Selene both loved and hated the silence.
Loved, because she once acquainted it with peace and reprieve from the noise of people, the noises of the city. She had always been a quiet girl, preferring to watch and wait instead of speak. She could remember, by heart, sitting at that comfortable reading nook situated in her room, right by the wide and expansive window. The seasons came and went, from the first green blush of spring, where she would look out of the window and just breathe. And the air would be crisp, bringing with it the still slight cold tang left over from winter, but beginning to gain the first signs of warmth and life. Eventually the garden would bloom, the fresh buds peeling back and letting loose their floral scents. Right outside, just under the wide windows of her room sat delicate white rose bushes. Her favorite flowers, with a warm cream blush staining pure white, the flowers let out only a gentle whiff of sweetness. Summer would go by in a haze of heat that was only bearable with the fruits she had set in ice, freshly picked from the fruit trees. Autumn went by with the red and gold of fallen leaves turning the garden seen out her window into warm yet subdued shades. And winter was just silence, spent bundled up in thick clothes for warmth as she withdrew from the window more to warm herself at the fireplace.
Those days were spent in quiet and solitude, broken only by the routine times when her father would come to check on her. She hardly knew what kind of work he did, though she knew what his career was. As an investigator, his days were often spent more outside their house, which was too big for a family of only two. They had a housekeeper, but the woman barely talked or interacted more than she had to with the master's only child. Selene didn't mind, more often than not buried in her studies.
And now she had come to hate the silence that would come with the nights in the circus. It was the silence of the grave, a hush unnaturally falling over the place after the lamps had been snuffed out, past midnight, to keep the children from daring to venture out of their tents. The children here were right to be terrified of what came after the dark. Strange shuffling noises would linger around the areas outside of their tents. Large and looming shadows of unrecognizable shapes, clawed hands that warned against attempting to escape.
Tonight had been... Nerve-wracking. Selene felt a fine shiver run up her arms, the pale flesh prickling as she sat before desk. She clutched the fabric of the robe she wore around herself tighter, chills that shouldn't have been physically possible making her drop the pen on the desk. The dress she wore, fine velvet and silk, lay in a rumpled heap at the foot of a small bed pushed up to the side of the tent. It wasn't cold in the tent, it was much warmer than the cage, after all. Nothing was as cold as spending a month living and sleeping inside that cage, iron bars too narrow for her to fit herself through, and the locks were changed every night to keep her from escaping. The floor of the tent was thick carpet and rugs, the fur soft against the soles of her bare feet.
Kasimir had insisted on her finishing her food, and forcing herself to eat while he watched was excruciating, if not in a painful way. Her stomach threatened sickness, she was so stretched taut and thin by having his eyes remain on her while he stood in the corner of the room. It had been amusing how he was both her salvation from those cages and the very same thing that had imprisoned her. After she had been freed from the cage and had been put back to work, he hadn't threatened her. Not just yet. Selene was back to doing what he had asked of her, after all, but it seemed that even her silent compliance wouldn't satisfy him. He just had to invite that boy to that table.
"Kasimir?" There was a strange sound just somewhere outside the tent. Selene looked over her shoulder warily, eyes darting to the closed entrance. He had left her to herself after spending the past few hours in the tent with her. But there wasn't anyone outside the tent, there was no familiar outline or shadow cast against the tent wall from the lamp outside. She cocked her head, frowning minutely. It was possible she was just jumpy, when wasn't she after spending time with the ringmaster? Shaking her head, she turned back to the piece of paper on the desk. "I should just sleep now..." She murmured, looking down at the handwritten notes. He still kept the pretense of giving her an education, even now. Raising a hand to tiredly rub her temples, she closed her eyes and hung her head over the desk. Tiredness was always leaden on her shoulders and her limbs, and if she didn't give a thought about it it would overtake her.
Loved, because she once acquainted it with peace and reprieve from the noise of people, the noises of the city. She had always been a quiet girl, preferring to watch and wait instead of speak. She could remember, by heart, sitting at that comfortable reading nook situated in her room, right by the wide and expansive window. The seasons came and went, from the first green blush of spring, where she would look out of the window and just breathe. And the air would be crisp, bringing with it the still slight cold tang left over from winter, but beginning to gain the first signs of warmth and life. Eventually the garden would bloom, the fresh buds peeling back and letting loose their floral scents. Right outside, just under the wide windows of her room sat delicate white rose bushes. Her favorite flowers, with a warm cream blush staining pure white, the flowers let out only a gentle whiff of sweetness. Summer would go by in a haze of heat that was only bearable with the fruits she had set in ice, freshly picked from the fruit trees. Autumn went by with the red and gold of fallen leaves turning the garden seen out her window into warm yet subdued shades. And winter was just silence, spent bundled up in thick clothes for warmth as she withdrew from the window more to warm herself at the fireplace.
Those days were spent in quiet and solitude, broken only by the routine times when her father would come to check on her. She hardly knew what kind of work he did, though she knew what his career was. As an investigator, his days were often spent more outside their house, which was too big for a family of only two. They had a housekeeper, but the woman barely talked or interacted more than she had to with the master's only child. Selene didn't mind, more often than not buried in her studies.
And now she had come to hate the silence that would come with the nights in the circus. It was the silence of the grave, a hush unnaturally falling over the place after the lamps had been snuffed out, past midnight, to keep the children from daring to venture out of their tents. The children here were right to be terrified of what came after the dark. Strange shuffling noises would linger around the areas outside of their tents. Large and looming shadows of unrecognizable shapes, clawed hands that warned against attempting to escape.
Tonight had been... Nerve-wracking. Selene felt a fine shiver run up her arms, the pale flesh prickling as she sat before desk. She clutched the fabric of the robe she wore around herself tighter, chills that shouldn't have been physically possible making her drop the pen on the desk. The dress she wore, fine velvet and silk, lay in a rumpled heap at the foot of a small bed pushed up to the side of the tent. It wasn't cold in the tent, it was much warmer than the cage, after all. Nothing was as cold as spending a month living and sleeping inside that cage, iron bars too narrow for her to fit herself through, and the locks were changed every night to keep her from escaping. The floor of the tent was thick carpet and rugs, the fur soft against the soles of her bare feet.
Kasimir had insisted on her finishing her food, and forcing herself to eat while he watched was excruciating, if not in a painful way. Her stomach threatened sickness, she was so stretched taut and thin by having his eyes remain on her while he stood in the corner of the room. It had been amusing how he was both her salvation from those cages and the very same thing that had imprisoned her. After she had been freed from the cage and had been put back to work, he hadn't threatened her. Not just yet. Selene was back to doing what he had asked of her, after all, but it seemed that even her silent compliance wouldn't satisfy him. He just had to invite that boy to that table.
"Kasimir?" There was a strange sound just somewhere outside the tent. Selene looked over her shoulder warily, eyes darting to the closed entrance. He had left her to herself after spending the past few hours in the tent with her. But there wasn't anyone outside the tent, there was no familiar outline or shadow cast against the tent wall from the lamp outside. She cocked her head, frowning minutely. It was possible she was just jumpy, when wasn't she after spending time with the ringmaster? Shaking her head, she turned back to the piece of paper on the desk. "I should just sleep now..." She murmured, looking down at the handwritten notes. He still kept the pretense of giving her an education, even now. Raising a hand to tiredly rub her temples, she closed her eyes and hung her head over the desk. Tiredness was always leaden on her shoulders and her limbs, and if she didn't give a thought about it it would overtake her.