"If I Could I would spend my days and nights out here Joan, it is warm during the day, night time has a cool evening breeze that blows from the east. Well... it use to..."<br/><br/>A sigh came from between her lips as she starred at the roses of white that sprang forth from the ground. Her hand came up to brush over the pedals, feeling as smooth as silk  under her touch, she could almost see herself dressed in little more then flowers. Shaking her head she closed off that little fantasy dream world and looked back to Joan as she walked back over to the woman. There was a lot on Narella's mind, most of which she should talk to her handmaiden about but... she found she could confide in the woman more then she could others.<br/><br/>"Joan... do you think father is angry with me? For being sick?"<br/><br/>She had noted lately that her father had a hard time looking at her, though her conclusion was that he was made about the sickness, and angry at her for letting herself get sick. The truth of the matter was, Narella didn't have a single clue to how she had gotten sick, it just kinda happened, and now no one had a cure for it. She watched as Joan stopped picking the round yellow flowers, and turned to look at her.<br/><br/>"No, I Don't think he is mad at you, I think he has a hard time of being around you knowing that there is the chance that you could...." Joan stopped there, honestly unsure what other word to use besides 'death'. Narella was too young to understand or meet that fate this soon.<br/><br/>That answer put Narella at more ease as she smiled and moved beside Joan, helping her clip more of the yellow flowers from the bush. With her head tipped down Narella was hit with the first wave of a dizzy spell, making her drop that clipping instrument to the ground. The handmaiden Joan moved closer to her, wrapping a arm around her shoulders, supporting her.<br/><br/>"Miss Narella? Are you alright?" Joan's voice held worry in her voice, though under that was the underlying fear that this might be the end for her.<br/><br/>Narella's hands came up, holding to the side of her handmaiden, clutching to her as though she was the last stable thing around her. She could feel a weakness sweeping up her body from feet to head, feel the slow and sluggish thoughts trying to move in her head. She wanted to scream, to call for help but her lips wouldn't pry apart and her voice seemed to disappear. Narella felt as though she was falling into a deep dark void of nothingness. Her form sagged against Joan's, falling to a crumpled mess to the ground as Joan lowered down beside her trying to wake her from her fainted state, or sleep.<br/><br/>"SOMEONE HELP!!! THE HEIR NEEDS HELP!! HURRY!!" Joan yelled to the guards that were surly patrolling the castle grounds, someone was bound to hear her cries for help, the Heir's needed them.<br/><br/>~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~<br/><br/>The queen BellasMorn  patted her king's hand, gentle as she tried to console his deep dark sorrow for what their daughter was going through. She didn't know the pain she was suffering or the fear that might be going through her, but she did know the one thing she could do and that was to try and stand strong for them both. The queen had spent many nights crying in and out of her sleep, wishing and praying to the Gods that there would be a cure for their daughter, but so far there was no answer to her prays.<br/><br/>"There has to be a cure somewhere, she will wed and have children, more then enough to fill this castle to the brim. We will find a cure for her, we just have to be patient and keep her as comfortable as we can."<br/><br/>The queen's fears were the same fears that the her King had, she wasn't sure if there would be a cure for their daughter but, she had to keep hoping and praying. Her hand tightened ever so slightly over the hand of the King's gentle but yet saying she was there for him as he needed her, she wasn't going nowhere.