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Majestic. The land was absolutely majestic. Cain'loren, for all it's wealth of beauty, could have been a barren wasteland for how the splendor of Silvern shadowed her homeland. Sprawling hills and towering mountains, a forest, thick and green, and a lake that seemed to steal radiance from the sun itself. Her father had been wary of the suit between her and Silvern's crown prince, and she thought now perhaps he was right to worry.
If her betrothed was anything so fine as his land, she would never measure up. Nerves clutched at her stomach and with every bump in the hardened path, the carriage gave a nauseating jolt. Night had fallen swiftly, the sky overhead a blanket of obsidian, bejeweled by stars at every inch of her expanse. Even the night seemed brighter and more glorious, and it was all the princess could do, not to leap from the carriage in horror.
"Nearly there, Your Grace." Anton, her guide offered, his smile disquieting and warm. Tugging at the fur of her cloak collar, Audra swallowed.
"I'm not feeling all that we, Anton. Perhaps we should turn round."
"Turn rou--… Your Grace… it's been two days. Certainly Silvern will have adequate rooms for resting. And I imagine they're anxious to meet you?"
Looking out the window of the carriage, adjusting the small ornamental brooch at her bust, Audra grimaced, "I'm not so certain." She whispered, but Anton had gone back to studying the itinerary.
She'd managed, somehow... possibly by sheer will alone not to vomit on her guide as the carriage continued on the way up into the mountains, but as they neared the gates of the palace she felt her stomach clench again with a furious sensation. She was going to die. She was going to keel over and die before she even had a chance to meet the prince. What a horrible first impression she was making...
"Princess?"
Looking up, she realized to some horror that Anton had asked her a question. Feeling her pale cheeks flush, she looked down awkwardly at the lace gloves encapsulating her delicate fingers, "Oh, Anton. I don't think I can do this. I... I'm not ready. What if... what if he hates me? Or what if I hate him? Or what if he's got a terribly large nose and I can't kiss him... or awful breath... or warts? God, what if he's not hideous and he thinks I am? Or what if I... oh God... I'm going to be sick."
"Princess. Breathe. Please... I..." Frowning, Anton shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "I'm sure he'll find you quite lovely. And while I've not the experience of meeting him myself yet, either, from what I understand, he's a handsome young man. But you must calm yourself, or you won't make any impression but one of showing up unconscious."
Taking a breath, a long, slow, steady on, Audra nodded, "...You're right. I'm nothing but a silly, stupid girl. Oh dear... We're slowing down."
"Indeed." Smiling faintly, Anton bowed his head and as the carriage came to a stop he pushed open the door to help her down, "After you, Princess."
"Stop pacing about my Prince, she's just a woman - you have been introduced to hundreds and there's nothing different about this one."
Rannulf paced back and forth, despite what his steward had told him, and waited alone just outside the castle. One by one, thousands of stars blossomed into the night sky. The beauty was almost strong enough to tear his mind from the ever rising apprehension inside him. Almost. Rannulf turned sharply on his heel, agitated and anxiety-ridden. The steward had spoke falsely; this woman - this woman - would be his Queen, of course this one was different. He sighed and sat down upon the roughly-hewn stone unsure of what concerned him the most.
Was he truly that vain, that he seemed to worry most about her physical appearance? That his heart quickened and his stomach dropped at the thought of marrying some unpleasant wench? Or the thought of sharing his life with a woman whose nature was foul and unsavory made him wish he wasn't the heir of Silvern?
"Stand." A voice said out of the darkness. "Your garments will be ruined."
It took him a second to recognize his father's voice out of the haze his mind was trapped in. "Any word?" Rannulf inquired immediately.
"Your betrothed will be here momentarily." King Avenius replied.
The prince, now standing, watched appreciatively as his father's appearance changed from kindly to kingly. Subtly was key, Rannulf noticed. Avenius' shoulders stood straighter, his worried glance turned cordial, and his crown shimmered with faint starlight. He heard the sounds of hooves as he noticed the growing crowd around him. His mother stood to his father's right and his eldest sister made her way to his right. Behind them stood handmaidens and manservants waiting for instructions. The carriage came into view and with bated breath Rannulf waited for it to come to a halt. When it finally did - after what seemed like a century - and the door swung open, he held his breath as he caught glimpse of a golden tress of hair.
She'd worn it down. She never wore it down. It was a long, curled mess of hair, which was entirely too long, too wild and was certain to remind her Prince of some mad creature that hunted in the mountains at night and disembowled unsuspecting passerbys. Why hasn't she asked Larissa to braid it? Why had she let Abrigel... Abrigel of all people convince her it looked pretty? Oh, she could've spit.
One step. And a pray not to fall. Two... and she'd made it halfway. Three and then four and her feet touched solid earth and with an audible breath, she glanced up to see the two men standing with full regality and her stomach and heart collided. He wasn't handsome. He was unearthly.
Why then shouldn't she step on the edge of her skirt and come crashing down like a ruin...
Anton reached out, but only just missed and as she toppled forward she could hear the thought running through her mind over and over again. At least she hadn't thrown up. But it felt less like a victory, mid-fall.
His first thought after seeing the flowing golden tresses and the starlit face they belonged to, was that all his worrying was for naught. The princess wore her golden hair down, so unlike the plaited styles of the Silvosi nobles. The style suited her flawlessly. Briefly, or perhaps his eyes tricked him, his betrothed wore an aureole crown, one surely made of grace as she stepped out of the carriage and into the night. He stared in awe, the southern princess was even lovelier than his father said she'd be.
Her feet had just kissed the earth when the princess stumbled and came crashing down right before his very eyes. Rannulf lurched forward and crossed the distance between them in less than four long strides. On one knee he outstretched his hand in aid.
"Let me help you rise, my lady."
Eyes shut tight, bitterly biting her cheek to keep from crying, Audra lifted her head, jaw tight, trembling and nodded, reaching for his hand, one which engulfed her own lace-covered.
"...May I present..." Anton cleared his throat, recovering far more aggresively than the princess, "The royal princess of Cain'loren, Audra Miranda Cecilia Elsabeth Baelston, daughter to his lordship, King Ordin Augustus Baelston the second and her majesty Queen Aimera Rayella Amelia Baelston." With a stately bow, Anton held a hand out to the blushing princess, who turned her eyes up to Rannulf with a small, sheepish smile.
"...Well... I hardly expect to remember all of that. Audra will do... Uh..." Swallowing, not entirely certain the heat of her blush couldn't be felt so close to him, inclined her head a little lower, "...That is... if it pleases Your Highness to do so."
Rannulf paid very little attention to the traditional formalities being swapped and instead focused on the palest of blue eyes he had ever seen and the fairest of lace-covered hands. It was a shame, truly, that they had never met before. It seemed as if Rannulf was only now seeing clearly for the first time. When she glanced up at him with a small, hesitant smile, all of his worries swam away. When she spoke, a swarm of merlin's fluttered about in his stomach.
He was sure she was exhausted, but the last thing he wanted to do was bid her goodnight.
"It would please me so." He replied with a smile of his own. "If I may, allow me to personally introduce you to my mother and father, the King and Queen of Silvern before you retire. I'm sure your journey was long and tiring." He extended his arm towards them with a lively spark in his eye.
"Oh..." A moment ago, she could have fallen straight to the ground and slept there until her trip ended, but his mouth twitched into an extraordinary smile and feeling her knees wobble beneath her, she nodded, "Not so tiring."
She could practically hear Anton's eyes rolling behind her, but ignoring the guide she slid her arm through the prince's, her smile returned in full, warm and confident, even if she was certain she was shaking, "Lead the way, My Lord."
He felt as though the world fell into place as she slid her arm through his and smiled gracefully up at him.
Rannulf adjusted his stride to match Princess Audra's and guided her the short distance to the king and queen. Already, handmaidens and manservants bustled about, no doubt carrying in the princess and her guests belongings. He stood directly in front of his mother and father, trying hard not to beam, and bowed to them out of respect. His father more or less wore the same expression he had on earlier, but his mother smiled at him with damp eyes.
"My lady Audra, this is my father, King Avenius and my mother, Queen Clariscia."
His father extended a hand, although his mother looked as if she were about to strangle her with an embrace. Rannulf was thankful his father put a preemptive hand around her waist to keep her in place.
Audra's heart hammered against her chest as she held her hand towards the king, fingers daintily directed towards the ground, "It's wonderful to finally meet you. My father sends his regards, and the hope that..." The practiced words had been so easy, so natural in the carriage, but they felt heavy as lead from her lips, "That with the union of your children there might come a union of kingdoms as well."
Breathing out, she smiled, "My mother, as well sends her regards... though those were remarkably easier to remember."
With a softer touch than Rannulf could ever imagine his father having, he took Audra's hand and gently squeezed it. When she spoke, he bowed his head out of respect for the King of Cain'loren.
"Many thanks, my Princess. I hope to hear that your journey north was comfortable and serene and that you find your stay in Silvern enjoyable. My queen and I are thrilled at the thought of unifying our kingdoms through marriage and blood."
Rannulf couldn't help but silently agree, he was quite thrilled himself.
Blushing softly, Audra nodded and let her hand fall back to her side, though possibly closer to Rannulf's than she ought to have. And that brought even more heat to her cheeks, "Thank you, Your Majesty. It was a lovely journey... and your kingdom, oh... it's so beautiful. Everything about it."
"Yes, the land of our forefather's is a beautiful one." King Avenius replied. "We try to honor it as much as we can. But enough of these pleasantries," he said with a smile. "The night is aging and these bones cool quicker then they used to, lets find ourselves in the warmth of the castle."
"Indeed." Smiling delicately, Audra glanced up to Rannulf, "...If his Grace would be so kind as to show me to my chambers, I would love to hear more about this fair kingdom."
"Honored guests first, if you please." King Avenius said with a flourish of his arm.
Almost unconsciously Rannulf pulled himself to full height, inclined his head to his father, and walked into the castle. He knew every stone and rock that comprised Silvernest, which tapestries lined which hall and where all the secret passages led to... but he found himself wishing he could see it with fresh eyes. What will it be like to her? he thought to himself. What will she think of our humble mountain rock?
Silvernest was it's own kind of beauty, a castle-keep built into the mountain itself. The oldest and deepest of carvings were hundreds of years old and albeit humble, the halls were something to behold. Stone walls were smooth and carved with uncanny precision, sometimes lined with tapestries, or portraits of previous kings and queens and heroic figures of lore. Some halls were wide with low arched ceilings, others thin and vaulted. Together they made a stone labyrinth of Silvosi architecture and design.
Yet nothing compared to the sweeping views each chamber possessed. All of Silvernest's rooms possessed a view as far and as wide as the eye could see. The rolling hill viewscape took up the majority of the south-eastern side of the mountain, where dawnlight can compel one to wake and sunlight can permeate the damp rock. Though the keep had plenty of stone hearths and whale oil lamps, it still remained cold and damp vast majority of times.
"Your chambers are not too far off my lady, is there anything I can do for you before you retire? Our handmaidens and manservants are dutiful. I know the keep is rather chilly, but a blazing hearth and refreshments will be waiting for you." Rannulf said softly, heart beating faster than normal. He waited a moment before speaking again. "What is it my lady would like to know of the kingdom?"
Fiddling with her brooch, her mother's voice echoing in the back of her mind to stop fidgeting, Audra took in every scene with a perfect sense of wonder and excitement. It was cold, and as she tightened her fur lined cloak around her narrow form she considered this meager downside, but not for long. Rannulf's voice cascaded from the stone walls with soft warmth and she was oblivious to the chill, "Everything... It's so lovely. I feel transposed... like I'm in an entirely new world."
A soft, girlish laugh escaped and she shook her head, "And I must sound like a ridiculous child..."
Rannulf remembered when he and his father traveled south for the first time, how otherworldly it had all seemed.
"No, not a ridiculous child" He said thoughtfully, smiling again at the sound of her laugh. "I remember my first trip to southern lands, I thought the same my lady, it's an entirely different world down there."
Pausing for a moment beside one of the windows which overlooked the mountainscape, she bit her lip and leaning against the rampart, glanced down at the darkening valley, almost fully cloaked in shadow, "...It's not what I expected. To be honest, neither are you. I... I'm afraid I worried quite a bit what you might be like... Now I worry I won't be quite enough."
Shifting, she straightened, "Oh, listen to me... I must be more tired than I thought."
"I-" The Prince faltered, caught unawares by her admission. Truth be told he had worried of her as well. What had she worried about though, he wondered thoughtfully, the same as he? Or perhaps that he was some pagan fool, or worse, some kind of northern blood hungry heretic? That the lands were sharp, unforgiving, and cruel? Filled to the brim with sacrilegious monsters?
"I-I worried myself princess..." He hesitated again but recovered quicker this time. "One rarely ever knows the person they marry, especially people of our birth... Being royal is both a blessing and a curse is it not? Who were the last king and queen, of any kingdom, that married for love?"
It was supposed to sound rhetorical, but Rannulf, genuinely interested in the answer, made it seem like a question.
"Your chambers are just down this hall... but if you please, only time will tell if you are not quite enough." He chuckled softly and offered his arm once more. "Something tells me I'll be unworthy of you, my lady Audra.
"Certainly my parents didn't..." Audra confessed to his question with a small, dry smile, "Bit of a mess, they are." Tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, she turned back to him and nodded, her cheeks oddly flushed, "I can imagine though that some people... some very lucky few manage to find what they haven't." Looking up at him, her eyes brightened, her smile warmed as she took his arm, "...I hope I will..."
I hope I will.
For a moment, he felt rooted to the stone floor beneath him as a flash of lightning burnt its way through his veins.
"I-I'm sorry," the Prince said, still a little flustered by what those four small words did to him. "About your parents I mean, my lady. Love may not have always been in their hearts, but in time my mother and father came to love each other very much... and I suppose I take that for granted."
The hallway was too short, in fact the castle was too small, and in less than a minute he would have to bid her goodnight.
"I think it's my parents, quite honestly, who took each other for granted. My father regrets it, now. But there's little repair for damages done to the heart. Still... it taught me the value of how to treat matters of that nature. I want most desperately, to avoid the mistakes they made."
Looking over at him, she smiled, "Though falling on my face, straight out of the carriage was hardly the intended impression I'd hoped to make."
Her chamber door stood proud only a few short strides away, and he did not want to bid her farewell. The princess was surprisingly easy to talk to -whether it was due to her melodic voice or candid speech - Rannulf couldn't be sure, all he knew is that he agreed with what she wanted so desperately. He had no intention of making the same mistakes his father did.
When she brought up the carriage incident, Rannulf gave her a cheeky grin and said, "Well, you know it was rather... endearing, if I do say so myself. I do hope you are alright though, Princess Audra. If something hurts I can summon the healer. I apologize for not asking sooner... I feel as though I've been entranced by your southern magnificence."
Laughing, probably more than a proper lady ought to, her cheeks a rosy shade that simply wouldn't fade, Audra shook her head, "I don't imagine a healer can do anything about wounded pride. Otherwise, I'm perfectly fine. Looking at her hands, a little scuffed, she smiled faintly, "Nothing that won't heal on it's own..."
Her melodious peals of laughter reminded Rannulf of something divine, like something he would hear in the Silver Sept. Druens of Music would perch themselves high in the Sept and sing, all day sometimes even all night.
They worshipped the gods with their voice, among other things, and sang so sweetly one would find themselves with tears in their eyes. He smiled softly at her rose colored cheeks and reached for her hand.
"Have not a wounded pride, my lady. You simply... lost your footing on the rough northern stone." He gave her another cheeky smile before his tone, and his face, turned solemn. "You must be weary after such a long journey." He turned his body slightly, revealing the silver gilded doorknob. "Your chambers, my lady." He said with a small bow.
Looking down at his hand, clasped around her own, back up again to the door of her room, unbearably close, and then finally back to Rannulf, to that sterling gaze, her smile softening, "...Right now, I feel as though I could never sleep again. You mustn't make for such fond company, my dear Prince..."
Her teeth found the edge of her lip and swallowing, she lowered her eyes again, "... It really isn't fair"
It was Rannulf's turn to flush and have his cheeks painted the color of a rose. Unsure of what to say, he studied her hand and the lace glove that veiled it. He noticed the little nicks and imperfections her fall from the carriage caused and made a note to have another pair delivered to her chambers in the morning.
"Oh I hardly think that is a fair thing for my lady to say." He said softly, trying hard not to stare at her pink cheeks or her pink lips. "Judge my company when we've spent an entire day together, my lady." He bowed slightly, keeping his eyes locked onto hers and kissed her laced palm.
From rose to scarlet, her skin brightened, her eyes as deeply rooted to his as his to hers, her voice breathless, those lips lifted in a coy lilt, "I can scarcely stand upon my knees, even now. I fear how an entire day will leave me, m'lord."
For the life of him, Rannulf could not tear his gaze from her dawn blue eyes. They roused something deep within him and with it, a strange feeling un-kin to anything he had felt before. Rannulf became intensely aware of the rhythmic thump in his chest and the flutter of wings behind his navel. His head cocked to side and he leaned down towards her, ever so slightly. It was then he noticed her rose colored cheeks were richer then before and his eyes, almost greedily, flicked to her upturned lips. Rannulf leaned forward again, his body almost flush with hers.
"If you are ever unsteady in the knees my lady, tell me and I shall carry you."
He smiled softly and gently ran a finger down her cheek. Unsure, for the first time in his life in front of a woman, of what to do next.
At the caress, Audra felt a shiver trail along her spine, and lifting a hand she rested it gingerly against his chest, the thread of his pulse quick beneath her fingers. She followed the train of his vision, and pinched her lower lip between her teeth, swallowed, her voice barely a whisper, airy and soft, "I imagine your arms may grow tired then, m'lord..."
Slowly, for this highborn maiden deserved the up most of respect, Rannulf put his arm around her waist and pulled her closer.
"My arms will never grow tired if they're holding you, Princess Audra..."
Chest thumping out a war chant, Rannulf dipped his head down and gave her a kiss on the cheek, then again closer to her lips. He whispered into her ear softly, "Forgive me m'lady, but I've wanted to do that since our eyes first met outside the castle."
Her breath catching on a soft, bearly perceptible gasp, she melted into that hold, her eyes fluttering closed, "...There's nothing to forgive. Except perhaps that you've missed..."
Rannulf smiled and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear before cupping her chin. His lips met hers and the world fell still. It was brief, the kiss, but he could feel the rush of a lifetime's worth.
"I do not think I missed that time, m'lady." He breathed against her lips.
"I would say you most definitely did not..." She whispered, fingertips brushing his jaw, "...Oh, Heaven help me. You are not what I expected." Opening her eyes, she smiled, almost slyly, her gaze bright, glistening, "I should go... before I can't bear to..."
Rannulf leaned into her touch, closing his eyes briefly in blessedness. Reluctantly, for it was the last thing he wanted to do, he released his grip on her waist and instead held on to her hand.
He sighed deeply, bent from the waist, and kissed her lace covered hand.
"Until dawn m'lady."
"Sleep well, My Prince..." As he straightened, Audra pressed up onto her toes, a hasty kiss pressed to his cheeks before she reached for the door and pushing it open, forced herself inside.
Anton had gone home. That morning, the young steward left in the carriage, to return the happy news, penned in a letter to her family. Never... never in a hundred years could she have anticipated the union going so well, so perfectly. But that first moment, stepping out of the carriage, she had known it in her heart, he was a man that she could greatly love. He had left her that night, taking with him her first kiss... and Audra had barely slept, her heart racing with thoughts of the man who was to be her husband.
Over the next few weeks, their meetings had been painfully brief - little moments here and there, stolen between planning and propriety. But every moment was better than the last, and every day closer to the day they would be married. All her life she had watched her parents, their abject disdain for one another painfully apparent, and she had dreaded nothing more than her future with another. Now all she feared was that time would move too slowly... and that future would never come.
Through the chilly halls of Silvernest, Audra's feet propelled her towards their little hovel, a spur jutting from the side of the palace, a window overlooking the valley. It was their own world... her whole world, and those few minutes all that mattered.
@fyrelily (I did a thing >_> in the right place this time!)
[/bg]If her betrothed was anything so fine as his land, she would never measure up. Nerves clutched at her stomach and with every bump in the hardened path, the carriage gave a nauseating jolt. Night had fallen swiftly, the sky overhead a blanket of obsidian, bejeweled by stars at every inch of her expanse. Even the night seemed brighter and more glorious, and it was all the princess could do, not to leap from the carriage in horror.
"Nearly there, Your Grace." Anton, her guide offered, his smile disquieting and warm. Tugging at the fur of her cloak collar, Audra swallowed.
"I'm not feeling all that we, Anton. Perhaps we should turn round."
"Turn rou--… Your Grace… it's been two days. Certainly Silvern will have adequate rooms for resting. And I imagine they're anxious to meet you?"
Looking out the window of the carriage, adjusting the small ornamental brooch at her bust, Audra grimaced, "I'm not so certain." She whispered, but Anton had gone back to studying the itinerary.
She'd managed, somehow... possibly by sheer will alone not to vomit on her guide as the carriage continued on the way up into the mountains, but as they neared the gates of the palace she felt her stomach clench again with a furious sensation. She was going to die. She was going to keel over and die before she even had a chance to meet the prince. What a horrible first impression she was making...
"Princess?"
Looking up, she realized to some horror that Anton had asked her a question. Feeling her pale cheeks flush, she looked down awkwardly at the lace gloves encapsulating her delicate fingers, "Oh, Anton. I don't think I can do this. I... I'm not ready. What if... what if he hates me? Or what if I hate him? Or what if he's got a terribly large nose and I can't kiss him... or awful breath... or warts? God, what if he's not hideous and he thinks I am? Or what if I... oh God... I'm going to be sick."
"Princess. Breathe. Please... I..." Frowning, Anton shifted uncomfortably in his seat, "I'm sure he'll find you quite lovely. And while I've not the experience of meeting him myself yet, either, from what I understand, he's a handsome young man. But you must calm yourself, or you won't make any impression but one of showing up unconscious."
Taking a breath, a long, slow, steady on, Audra nodded, "...You're right. I'm nothing but a silly, stupid girl. Oh dear... We're slowing down."
"Indeed." Smiling faintly, Anton bowed his head and as the carriage came to a stop he pushed open the door to help her down, "After you, Princess."
"Stop pacing about my Prince, she's just a woman - you have been introduced to hundreds and there's nothing different about this one."
Rannulf paced back and forth, despite what his steward had told him, and waited alone just outside the castle. One by one, thousands of stars blossomed into the night sky. The beauty was almost strong enough to tear his mind from the ever rising apprehension inside him. Almost. Rannulf turned sharply on his heel, agitated and anxiety-ridden. The steward had spoke falsely; this woman - this woman - would be his Queen, of course this one was different. He sighed and sat down upon the roughly-hewn stone unsure of what concerned him the most.
Was he truly that vain, that he seemed to worry most about her physical appearance? That his heart quickened and his stomach dropped at the thought of marrying some unpleasant wench? Or the thought of sharing his life with a woman whose nature was foul and unsavory made him wish he wasn't the heir of Silvern?
"Stand." A voice said out of the darkness. "Your garments will be ruined."
It took him a second to recognize his father's voice out of the haze his mind was trapped in. "Any word?" Rannulf inquired immediately.
"Your betrothed will be here momentarily." King Avenius replied.
The prince, now standing, watched appreciatively as his father's appearance changed from kindly to kingly. Subtly was key, Rannulf noticed. Avenius' shoulders stood straighter, his worried glance turned cordial, and his crown shimmered with faint starlight. He heard the sounds of hooves as he noticed the growing crowd around him. His mother stood to his father's right and his eldest sister made her way to his right. Behind them stood handmaidens and manservants waiting for instructions. The carriage came into view and with bated breath Rannulf waited for it to come to a halt. When it finally did - after what seemed like a century - and the door swung open, he held his breath as he caught glimpse of a golden tress of hair.
She'd worn it down. She never wore it down. It was a long, curled mess of hair, which was entirely too long, too wild and was certain to remind her Prince of some mad creature that hunted in the mountains at night and disembowled unsuspecting passerbys. Why hasn't she asked Larissa to braid it? Why had she let Abrigel... Abrigel of all people convince her it looked pretty? Oh, she could've spit.
One step. And a pray not to fall. Two... and she'd made it halfway. Three and then four and her feet touched solid earth and with an audible breath, she glanced up to see the two men standing with full regality and her stomach and heart collided. He wasn't handsome. He was unearthly.
Why then shouldn't she step on the edge of her skirt and come crashing down like a ruin...
Anton reached out, but only just missed and as she toppled forward she could hear the thought running through her mind over and over again. At least she hadn't thrown up. But it felt less like a victory, mid-fall.
His first thought after seeing the flowing golden tresses and the starlit face they belonged to, was that all his worrying was for naught. The princess wore her golden hair down, so unlike the plaited styles of the Silvosi nobles. The style suited her flawlessly. Briefly, or perhaps his eyes tricked him, his betrothed wore an aureole crown, one surely made of grace as she stepped out of the carriage and into the night. He stared in awe, the southern princess was even lovelier than his father said she'd be.
Her feet had just kissed the earth when the princess stumbled and came crashing down right before his very eyes. Rannulf lurched forward and crossed the distance between them in less than four long strides. On one knee he outstretched his hand in aid.
"Let me help you rise, my lady."
Eyes shut tight, bitterly biting her cheek to keep from crying, Audra lifted her head, jaw tight, trembling and nodded, reaching for his hand, one which engulfed her own lace-covered.
"...May I present..." Anton cleared his throat, recovering far more aggresively than the princess, "The royal princess of Cain'loren, Audra Miranda Cecilia Elsabeth Baelston, daughter to his lordship, King Ordin Augustus Baelston the second and her majesty Queen Aimera Rayella Amelia Baelston." With a stately bow, Anton held a hand out to the blushing princess, who turned her eyes up to Rannulf with a small, sheepish smile.
"...Well... I hardly expect to remember all of that. Audra will do... Uh..." Swallowing, not entirely certain the heat of her blush couldn't be felt so close to him, inclined her head a little lower, "...That is... if it pleases Your Highness to do so."
Rannulf paid very little attention to the traditional formalities being swapped and instead focused on the palest of blue eyes he had ever seen and the fairest of lace-covered hands. It was a shame, truly, that they had never met before. It seemed as if Rannulf was only now seeing clearly for the first time. When she glanced up at him with a small, hesitant smile, all of his worries swam away. When she spoke, a swarm of merlin's fluttered about in his stomach.
He was sure she was exhausted, but the last thing he wanted to do was bid her goodnight.
"It would please me so." He replied with a smile of his own. "If I may, allow me to personally introduce you to my mother and father, the King and Queen of Silvern before you retire. I'm sure your journey was long and tiring." He extended his arm towards them with a lively spark in his eye.
"Oh..." A moment ago, she could have fallen straight to the ground and slept there until her trip ended, but his mouth twitched into an extraordinary smile and feeling her knees wobble beneath her, she nodded, "Not so tiring."
She could practically hear Anton's eyes rolling behind her, but ignoring the guide she slid her arm through the prince's, her smile returned in full, warm and confident, even if she was certain she was shaking, "Lead the way, My Lord."
He felt as though the world fell into place as she slid her arm through his and smiled gracefully up at him.
Rannulf adjusted his stride to match Princess Audra's and guided her the short distance to the king and queen. Already, handmaidens and manservants bustled about, no doubt carrying in the princess and her guests belongings. He stood directly in front of his mother and father, trying hard not to beam, and bowed to them out of respect. His father more or less wore the same expression he had on earlier, but his mother smiled at him with damp eyes.
"My lady Audra, this is my father, King Avenius and my mother, Queen Clariscia."
His father extended a hand, although his mother looked as if she were about to strangle her with an embrace. Rannulf was thankful his father put a preemptive hand around her waist to keep her in place.
Audra's heart hammered against her chest as she held her hand towards the king, fingers daintily directed towards the ground, "It's wonderful to finally meet you. My father sends his regards, and the hope that..." The practiced words had been so easy, so natural in the carriage, but they felt heavy as lead from her lips, "That with the union of your children there might come a union of kingdoms as well."
Breathing out, she smiled, "My mother, as well sends her regards... though those were remarkably easier to remember."
With a softer touch than Rannulf could ever imagine his father having, he took Audra's hand and gently squeezed it. When she spoke, he bowed his head out of respect for the King of Cain'loren.
"Many thanks, my Princess. I hope to hear that your journey north was comfortable and serene and that you find your stay in Silvern enjoyable. My queen and I are thrilled at the thought of unifying our kingdoms through marriage and blood."
Rannulf couldn't help but silently agree, he was quite thrilled himself.
Blushing softly, Audra nodded and let her hand fall back to her side, though possibly closer to Rannulf's than she ought to have. And that brought even more heat to her cheeks, "Thank you, Your Majesty. It was a lovely journey... and your kingdom, oh... it's so beautiful. Everything about it."
"Yes, the land of our forefather's is a beautiful one." King Avenius replied. "We try to honor it as much as we can. But enough of these pleasantries," he said with a smile. "The night is aging and these bones cool quicker then they used to, lets find ourselves in the warmth of the castle."
"Indeed." Smiling delicately, Audra glanced up to Rannulf, "...If his Grace would be so kind as to show me to my chambers, I would love to hear more about this fair kingdom."
"Honored guests first, if you please." King Avenius said with a flourish of his arm.
Almost unconsciously Rannulf pulled himself to full height, inclined his head to his father, and walked into the castle. He knew every stone and rock that comprised Silvernest, which tapestries lined which hall and where all the secret passages led to... but he found himself wishing he could see it with fresh eyes. What will it be like to her? he thought to himself. What will she think of our humble mountain rock?
Silvernest was it's own kind of beauty, a castle-keep built into the mountain itself. The oldest and deepest of carvings were hundreds of years old and albeit humble, the halls were something to behold. Stone walls were smooth and carved with uncanny precision, sometimes lined with tapestries, or portraits of previous kings and queens and heroic figures of lore. Some halls were wide with low arched ceilings, others thin and vaulted. Together they made a stone labyrinth of Silvosi architecture and design.
Yet nothing compared to the sweeping views each chamber possessed. All of Silvernest's rooms possessed a view as far and as wide as the eye could see. The rolling hill viewscape took up the majority of the south-eastern side of the mountain, where dawnlight can compel one to wake and sunlight can permeate the damp rock. Though the keep had plenty of stone hearths and whale oil lamps, it still remained cold and damp vast majority of times.
"Your chambers are not too far off my lady, is there anything I can do for you before you retire? Our handmaidens and manservants are dutiful. I know the keep is rather chilly, but a blazing hearth and refreshments will be waiting for you." Rannulf said softly, heart beating faster than normal. He waited a moment before speaking again. "What is it my lady would like to know of the kingdom?"
Fiddling with her brooch, her mother's voice echoing in the back of her mind to stop fidgeting, Audra took in every scene with a perfect sense of wonder and excitement. It was cold, and as she tightened her fur lined cloak around her narrow form she considered this meager downside, but not for long. Rannulf's voice cascaded from the stone walls with soft warmth and she was oblivious to the chill, "Everything... It's so lovely. I feel transposed... like I'm in an entirely new world."
A soft, girlish laugh escaped and she shook her head, "And I must sound like a ridiculous child..."
Rannulf remembered when he and his father traveled south for the first time, how otherworldly it had all seemed.
"No, not a ridiculous child" He said thoughtfully, smiling again at the sound of her laugh. "I remember my first trip to southern lands, I thought the same my lady, it's an entirely different world down there."
Pausing for a moment beside one of the windows which overlooked the mountainscape, she bit her lip and leaning against the rampart, glanced down at the darkening valley, almost fully cloaked in shadow, "...It's not what I expected. To be honest, neither are you. I... I'm afraid I worried quite a bit what you might be like... Now I worry I won't be quite enough."
Shifting, she straightened, "Oh, listen to me... I must be more tired than I thought."
"I-" The Prince faltered, caught unawares by her admission. Truth be told he had worried of her as well. What had she worried about though, he wondered thoughtfully, the same as he? Or perhaps that he was some pagan fool, or worse, some kind of northern blood hungry heretic? That the lands were sharp, unforgiving, and cruel? Filled to the brim with sacrilegious monsters?
"I-I worried myself princess..." He hesitated again but recovered quicker this time. "One rarely ever knows the person they marry, especially people of our birth... Being royal is both a blessing and a curse is it not? Who were the last king and queen, of any kingdom, that married for love?"
It was supposed to sound rhetorical, but Rannulf, genuinely interested in the answer, made it seem like a question.
"Your chambers are just down this hall... but if you please, only time will tell if you are not quite enough." He chuckled softly and offered his arm once more. "Something tells me I'll be unworthy of you, my lady Audra.
"Certainly my parents didn't..." Audra confessed to his question with a small, dry smile, "Bit of a mess, they are." Tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, she turned back to him and nodded, her cheeks oddly flushed, "I can imagine though that some people... some very lucky few manage to find what they haven't." Looking up at him, her eyes brightened, her smile warmed as she took his arm, "...I hope I will..."
I hope I will.
For a moment, he felt rooted to the stone floor beneath him as a flash of lightning burnt its way through his veins.
"I-I'm sorry," the Prince said, still a little flustered by what those four small words did to him. "About your parents I mean, my lady. Love may not have always been in their hearts, but in time my mother and father came to love each other very much... and I suppose I take that for granted."
The hallway was too short, in fact the castle was too small, and in less than a minute he would have to bid her goodnight.
"I think it's my parents, quite honestly, who took each other for granted. My father regrets it, now. But there's little repair for damages done to the heart. Still... it taught me the value of how to treat matters of that nature. I want most desperately, to avoid the mistakes they made."
Looking over at him, she smiled, "Though falling on my face, straight out of the carriage was hardly the intended impression I'd hoped to make."
Her chamber door stood proud only a few short strides away, and he did not want to bid her farewell. The princess was surprisingly easy to talk to -whether it was due to her melodic voice or candid speech - Rannulf couldn't be sure, all he knew is that he agreed with what she wanted so desperately. He had no intention of making the same mistakes his father did.
When she brought up the carriage incident, Rannulf gave her a cheeky grin and said, "Well, you know it was rather... endearing, if I do say so myself. I do hope you are alright though, Princess Audra. If something hurts I can summon the healer. I apologize for not asking sooner... I feel as though I've been entranced by your southern magnificence."
Laughing, probably more than a proper lady ought to, her cheeks a rosy shade that simply wouldn't fade, Audra shook her head, "I don't imagine a healer can do anything about wounded pride. Otherwise, I'm perfectly fine. Looking at her hands, a little scuffed, she smiled faintly, "Nothing that won't heal on it's own..."
Her melodious peals of laughter reminded Rannulf of something divine, like something he would hear in the Silver Sept. Druens of Music would perch themselves high in the Sept and sing, all day sometimes even all night.
They worshipped the gods with their voice, among other things, and sang so sweetly one would find themselves with tears in their eyes. He smiled softly at her rose colored cheeks and reached for her hand.
"Have not a wounded pride, my lady. You simply... lost your footing on the rough northern stone." He gave her another cheeky smile before his tone, and his face, turned solemn. "You must be weary after such a long journey." He turned his body slightly, revealing the silver gilded doorknob. "Your chambers, my lady." He said with a small bow.
Looking down at his hand, clasped around her own, back up again to the door of her room, unbearably close, and then finally back to Rannulf, to that sterling gaze, her smile softening, "...Right now, I feel as though I could never sleep again. You mustn't make for such fond company, my dear Prince..."
Her teeth found the edge of her lip and swallowing, she lowered her eyes again, "... It really isn't fair"
It was Rannulf's turn to flush and have his cheeks painted the color of a rose. Unsure of what to say, he studied her hand and the lace glove that veiled it. He noticed the little nicks and imperfections her fall from the carriage caused and made a note to have another pair delivered to her chambers in the morning.
"Oh I hardly think that is a fair thing for my lady to say." He said softly, trying hard not to stare at her pink cheeks or her pink lips. "Judge my company when we've spent an entire day together, my lady." He bowed slightly, keeping his eyes locked onto hers and kissed her laced palm.
From rose to scarlet, her skin brightened, her eyes as deeply rooted to his as his to hers, her voice breathless, those lips lifted in a coy lilt, "I can scarcely stand upon my knees, even now. I fear how an entire day will leave me, m'lord."
For the life of him, Rannulf could not tear his gaze from her dawn blue eyes. They roused something deep within him and with it, a strange feeling un-kin to anything he had felt before. Rannulf became intensely aware of the rhythmic thump in his chest and the flutter of wings behind his navel. His head cocked to side and he leaned down towards her, ever so slightly. It was then he noticed her rose colored cheeks were richer then before and his eyes, almost greedily, flicked to her upturned lips. Rannulf leaned forward again, his body almost flush with hers.
"If you are ever unsteady in the knees my lady, tell me and I shall carry you."
He smiled softly and gently ran a finger down her cheek. Unsure, for the first time in his life in front of a woman, of what to do next.
At the caress, Audra felt a shiver trail along her spine, and lifting a hand she rested it gingerly against his chest, the thread of his pulse quick beneath her fingers. She followed the train of his vision, and pinched her lower lip between her teeth, swallowed, her voice barely a whisper, airy and soft, "I imagine your arms may grow tired then, m'lord..."
Slowly, for this highborn maiden deserved the up most of respect, Rannulf put his arm around her waist and pulled her closer.
"My arms will never grow tired if they're holding you, Princess Audra..."
Chest thumping out a war chant, Rannulf dipped his head down and gave her a kiss on the cheek, then again closer to her lips. He whispered into her ear softly, "Forgive me m'lady, but I've wanted to do that since our eyes first met outside the castle."
Her breath catching on a soft, bearly perceptible gasp, she melted into that hold, her eyes fluttering closed, "...There's nothing to forgive. Except perhaps that you've missed..."
Rannulf smiled and brushed a lock of hair behind her ear before cupping her chin. His lips met hers and the world fell still. It was brief, the kiss, but he could feel the rush of a lifetime's worth.
"I do not think I missed that time, m'lady." He breathed against her lips.
"I would say you most definitely did not..." She whispered, fingertips brushing his jaw, "...Oh, Heaven help me. You are not what I expected." Opening her eyes, she smiled, almost slyly, her gaze bright, glistening, "I should go... before I can't bear to..."
Rannulf leaned into her touch, closing his eyes briefly in blessedness. Reluctantly, for it was the last thing he wanted to do, he released his grip on her waist and instead held on to her hand.
He sighed deeply, bent from the waist, and kissed her lace covered hand.
"Until dawn m'lady."
"Sleep well, My Prince..." As he straightened, Audra pressed up onto her toes, a hasty kiss pressed to his cheeks before she reached for the door and pushing it open, forced herself inside.
Anton had gone home. That morning, the young steward left in the carriage, to return the happy news, penned in a letter to her family. Never... never in a hundred years could she have anticipated the union going so well, so perfectly. But that first moment, stepping out of the carriage, she had known it in her heart, he was a man that she could greatly love. He had left her that night, taking with him her first kiss... and Audra had barely slept, her heart racing with thoughts of the man who was to be her husband.
Over the next few weeks, their meetings had been painfully brief - little moments here and there, stolen between planning and propriety. But every moment was better than the last, and every day closer to the day they would be married. All her life she had watched her parents, their abject disdain for one another painfully apparent, and she had dreaded nothing more than her future with another. Now all she feared was that time would move too slowly... and that future would never come.
Through the chilly halls of Silvernest, Audra's feet propelled her towards their little hovel, a spur jutting from the side of the palace, a window overlooking the valley. It was their own world... her whole world, and those few minutes all that mattered.
@fyrelily (I did a thing >_> in the right place this time!)
