<i>//Join meeee, <a class="username" data-user-id="660" data-username="@Jaylen" data-xf-init="member-tooltip" href="https://blackdahliaroleplaying.com/members/660/">@Jaylen</a> !</i><br/><br/>First they were just rumours, unrest stirring below the surface in people getting more hungry, more sick and therefore more angry. All it needed was the brave few to light the flame and a pointing finger to those who lived in wealth to have something else to blame rather than God’s fury. And of course, there -was- some truth to those accusations. It had been a dry summer, crops burning on the fields, and after that a cruel winter with snow burying the towns in silencing white covers. Only good thing about the cold was that it killed the plague running rampant on the more poor parts of the city and nearby towns, but it didn’t help with the loss and grief of all those families now missing a son, a sister or a father. In some families it meant losing the only ones capable of working and bringing food to the table.<br/><br/>And yet, there was the few who after these trying months still ate their stomachs full and dressed in velvets and silks costing more than a poor farmer’s year’s earnings. Some of the more mild point of view could say that their ruler wasn’t exactly the worst of the worst though, the King had lowered the taxes as low as he could without going in debt - or lowering his own level of comfort - and did give to the poor more than his old father had before him. Still, someone in his position, who had never gone hungry or cold or ever had to struggle to make the means to live the way he now did, could never just imagine how it is.<br/><br/>Those in his castle, however, did live comfortably enough, the noble and those serving them. Few hundred people, and double in staff, in a castle big enough to house all of them with ease. It was based at the very side of the city, with an easy access to the woods behind it, although surrounded by thick, unbreakable walls. Only way to get in was through the city, which in past made it safe. The more closer related to the King you were, the closer to the woods you lived. Quarters at the very back of the castle were most lavish with expensive fabrics, gold and carpentry. Those living and serving there had heard their usually calm and collected King and Master raging and frustrated on the state of his lands and especially this city in particular. He was young, barely seen twenty summers and now thrown into a crisis like this. Even his young wife was in shambles, and his sister had to take care of keeping up the appearance of calm and collected royalty.<br/><br/>While in fact, all she needed was run into the woods and never come back. Victoire herself was nearing her thirties and at times feeling like she was supposed to take care of her younger brother who in turn was supposed to take care of the entire land and its politics. Granted she -was- a strong-willed and very opinionated woman, it was still a lot to handle. Especially at times like this! She sat in the small parlor listening to her sister in law the Queen pouring her heart out while Victoire kept pouring tea into their cups. Seated like this, they were like opposite ends of the same coin, the Queen being pale, fair haired and dressed in a fitting pale green gown. She had never been the type to wear much jewellery, and darker, stronger colours tended to make her look even more fragile. On the other side there was Victoire, her back straight and a real image of her name. Her hair was dark and thick, twisted into an elaborate updo at the back of her head, and she was dressed in a dark green gown with golden embroidery at the chest. Still, with her wrists and fingers heavy with jewellery and emeralds on golden chains wrapped around her long neck, there was no question about who in the room was the Queen by the way Victoire and the servants treated her.<br/><br/>The seemingly peaceful moment was suddenly interrupted by a servant boy throwing the door open, making both of the women stand up and instinctively grab each other’s hands. This was it. They had been waiting for someone to come and give them the sign, and no one in the room even noticed the sound of a teacup getting shattered on the wooden floor.<br/><br/>“It’s time, your majesty,” Victoire spoke softly into the other woman’s ear as she swiftly took a coat offered to her and wrapped it around the younger woman’s shoulders. They exchanged a look, a pale blue eyes meeting dark, brown ones, and both of them felt more safe. They were guided through the castle, a place they had called home and across these floors Victoire and Vincent, the now King, had ran as children, chasing each other and hiding in the little nooks and corners of the castle. Victoire knew them all. And now, these people were coming to take that from her and her family. These people she thought they had taken good care of. Granted, her view might be a slightly one sided one.<br/><br/>One of the kitchen maids had given a warning that same morning, she had heard a rumour that they were coming this very night, by force they couldn’t defend against without a lot of people dying. It was safer and easier to get the family somewhere safe for the time being. No one knew what ‘the time being’ would end up meaning, but they all feared it might be a longer while than anticipated. These were the thoughts probably in all their heads as they sat in their wagons, pulled by horses in the darkness and taking them away from the city. They had to make sure they wouldn’t pass any bigger towns or the sides of the city so no one would know to follow. To a point it could be disguised as a simple caravan, but in a big scale as this it became more than slightly suspicious.<br/><br/>Their new home appeared from the darkness after the night’s and most of the next day’s travel. They were all sore and tired but they had been too afraid to slow down or sleep. Their massive several hundred people court and staff had reduced into a bare thirty-something minimum, including everyone. But the house looked nice, it was definitely not your ordinary farm, more like an estate, yet still a steep long step down from the castle. Victoire could see the defeated looks on her family’s faces, and the determined ones of her staff and ladies, and decided to take the place of the latter group in this. She gathered her gown into her hands and helped to move things inside, helped to calm down the miserable people and held the small children, her two small nieces who kept crying from the long journey. She kept herself busy through the whole day, and only when she finally closed the door to her new room, she let herself lay on the bed and have a good, cleansing cry. What will come of this all?