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The soft whispers of the clouds slowly passed by the courtyard of the young maiden. Pale blue skies blended with the light orange hues of a sunrise; the morning light reveling the horizon in liquid gold. The sun rays stretched out in full length and touched each land within its sight. Silent wings of lost souls residing in each butterfly flittered about—taking one flower’s memory into another. A beautiful day and here she was trapped behind the cold stones of her father’s kingdom.<br/>
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Light footsteps approached her, <span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">“Your Highness, Princess Octavia,”</span> a slight drawn out pause was followed after as her lady-in-waiting fidgeted with her hands, clasped.<br/>
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Hearing the hesitancy in her voice she furrowed her brows as to which news she’d receive today, <b>“Yes, what is it?”</b> Turning her torso to face the woman, it seemed the news wouldn’t be to her liking and may have already put a damper on her day. <b>“Marie, it’s alright—<i>whatever it is</i>, you can tell me.”</b><br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">“The king demands to see your presence at once,”</span> another pause, <span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">“He has some urgent news to share with you in regard to your future as Queen.”</span><br/>
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Narrowing her eyes to further study her lady-in-waiting’s behavior, there was something amiss in which she was purposely kept in the dark. Not wanting to pry, she thought it best to meet with the king to see what was being said behind her back. <b>“Alright, let us not keep him waiting then. You know how my father gets when he’s in one of his mood swings.”</b> A light chuckle passed her lips as she tried to lighten the mood, but the tense air between them only grew. For better or for worse, what has her father done this time.<br/>
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The kingdom had always been her home and she had once felt its warmth radiating off the silvery-white stones, protecting her family from harm. It hadn’t been the same since her mother passed away; an illness that clung to her lungs and drowned her dreams along with it. Apparently, it was an accident—her father had confided in her about the news of her mother and how she slipped on their ship. The fall had thrown her overboard and was soon lost at sea. He was unable to save her from Poseidon’s wrath, but still had enough strength and courage to relay the news. Unfortunately for him, the queen never gifted him with a son to take the throne—only a daughter.<br/>
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Confidently walking past each pair of guards, the kingdom was heavily guarded to reassure the king’s paranoia that enemies and their shadows were always lurking about. He was under a high amount of stress as his agenda these past few months have been to overtake, overrule, and oversee any land he could get his hands on. His reign was ruthless and sometimes, barbaric; it seemed that once the queen was laid to rest—his call for mercy was buried with her. The echoes of the large double doors in the main hall opened; a large room widened before her eyes as in the center she was met with the king’s gaze. He sat on his plush red throne with gold embellishments carved out in delicate detail. The ornate customs of the metalwork were highly commissioned to make sure it embodied <i>regal</i> design.<br/>
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Princess Octavia entered the room, standing in the center, and to be witnessed by the king’s guards, his court, his advisors, and her lady-in-waiting. There was one other person—a woman—that stood near the king’s side. She was adorned in black clothing as a lace veil hid her prominent features and the daggers in her eyes. She was the devil that clung to her father’s power and tainted his heart a year after he decided he wouldn’t remarry again. Clasping her hands in front of her torso, she held her head high as she spoke to the king, <b>“You wished to see me, Your Majesty.”</b> Her light brown gaze pierced through the air as she gave her attention to her father before glancing in-between him and his devil. Echoes of the king’s laughter filled the hollow room as he laid back, informal to their meeting as king and princess.<br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">“Yes, yes. How is my little princess? Befriending the forest creatures like those old fairytales?”</span> A dry laugh, once again, was uprooted from his mouth as he grinned, glancing at the woman near him before looking back to his daughter. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">“Ah, no matter. I received word from King Sebastian IV, he has agreed to betroth you to Prince Albert—and he shall be here to see you within two days. You shall be married on the fourth day under the light of the full moon.”</span> A grin warmed his features as he laughed again, heartedly.<br/>
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</div> Her features cringed as her eyes narrowed as she heard the news of marriage utter from her father’s lips. Furrowing her brows again, she unclasped her hands and clenched them into fists, protesting at the decision her father had made, <b>“Me? <i>Marry Prince Albert?</i> Have you not heard the news that follow him—the way he has an unkempt temper toward women? The news of him <i>lashing out</i> and <i>abusing</i> his—,”</b> she clenched her teeth together as her anger swelled inside her. She was interrupted by her father’s command; his eyes fixated on her as his face flushed red.<br/>
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<span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">“How <i>dare</i> you speak to me in such manner! I am <i>your king</i> before I am your father! Those rumors are just that—<i>RUMORS</i>! You shall meet with him when he arrives, and I <i>expect</i> you to act accordingly.”</span><br/>
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<b>“I will not, father! I expected you to marry me off to someone more respectable—<i>honorable</i>—but here you are, thinking that you’re always right. Perhaps it’s your devil’s perfume poisoning your mind and twisting your insides; cursing you into oblivion!”</b> She paused, the knowing tell from her father’s rage as she could feel the people around her grow wary. <b>“Is this how you see me, father? One of your pawn pieces to draw the enemy to their knees—yielding to no one but you!?”</b><br/>
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The king’s eyes stern with insurmountable rage directed at his daughter, the Princess of Augustine. He rose from his throne, standing tall, and unexpectedly calm. His chest heaved as he breathed through his fury as he did not expect his daughter to be an ungrateful bitch. <span class="fixed-color" style="color:rgb(163, 143, 132)">“Do you want to know how I see you? Fine, I’ll show you <i>exactly</i> how I see my daughter… You don’t want to marry Prince Albert—<i>then don’t</i>. But do not expect to keep the title as my daughter, a princess, and most importantly, expect to <i>live</i> after that boorish display of treachery.”</span> Gesturing toward his guards and his devil, a pair of guards approached and grasped at her wrists dragging her outside the castle gates. She writhed and pulled her wrists away from their iron hold, but to no avail, she was weaker than them. The she-devil followed behind closely as the king grumbled back in his chair, cursing the day she was born.<br/>
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Memories flinted inside her mind, recalling the tale from the very beginning. The looming shadows crept around the tower; it stood tall, reaching as far as it could up to the heavens, almost surpassing the highest mountain. She groaned in her slumber as her eyes tucked behind her closed lids swept from side to side as her memories continued to gnaw at her soul. The room in which she was confided in was elegantly decorated—a temple for a princess—as the lavish mattress in which she laid on supported her body in glamour and comfort. Sheer white curtains wrapped around the perimeter of the bed; the breeze effortlessly flowing through it as her dress remained still. She was adorned in black with a hint of gold lacing her bodice; the fabric clung to her curves and accentuated her lithe form. Her chest rose and fell with every breath and her hands clasped delicately together against her abdomen. The princess laid still, fabled to be forever trapped in her slumber until a true love’s kiss broke her free.<br/>
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The curse, however, was not of a simple slumber—it coursed through the maiden’s veins and chained her soul with that of a demon. Over countless centuries, the demon rested; biding her time to grow stronger and wreak havoc on those who tried to overpower her new vessel. The tower was enchanted by dark magic—only of noble birth shall the tower welcome those who wished to try and rescue the sleeping beauty. A curse fueled by fear, hatred, and revenge coiled deep within the darkest parts of Princess Octavia’s heart; an abhorrence directed toward her father, the king, for sending her into exile. Within that fury, the darkness grew, and the demon was born. The true intention of a true love’s kiss was witnessed by many noblemen with none to speak of its heinous curse. Their skeletal remains laid bare among the perimeter, a fair warning to those who sought out the myth.<br/>
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<hr class="bbc-hr"/><i>for</i> <a class="username" data-user-id="8638" data-username="promethean" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/8638/">promethean</a> </div>