-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
Usually, she'd be awake before six, tending to the garden and her beloved Morning Screamers as a fresh start. Then she'd eat breakfast with anyone available in her family and then go about her day.
But for today, Saturday, Lizzie was particularly an hour earlier. She roamed the halls covered in her warm coat, her steps were urgent, with her hands lifting her dress to run faster.
If Madam Vaddenver would only see her, the tutor would collapse whilst holding her neck, finally popping a vein for blood pressure.
But she had no classes today, and no knights would see her ankles. If they do, they would look away and pretend she was a ghost, like they have been doing for years. Honey the Fenrir, ran after her, more quiet than the clack of her shoes against the marbe.
Since it has grown up to the size of her shoulders, with its black shiny fur and silver eyes, the beast resembled death looming behind an angel in silver.
No one would dare attack her, even without knights with the beast behind.
The morning breeze blew through huge windows and Lizzie stopped for a deep breath. The chill had seeped into her bones and it hyped her up more than she already was.
She ran in the hall, giggling to herself, only to stop a few times, when servants were sighted about to begin her day. She'd nod back at their greetings, as regal as possible, then run after, her dress and coat fluttering in the wind. The beast matched her speed, used to her dash then pauses then dash.
After so many years, the castle was accustomed to Fenrir growing in front of their eyes. There were newcomers who faint at the monster jumping around his master, but aside from rummaging the kitchen once or twice a month for honey, the Fenrir has not disturbed the peace so much. Everyone pretended that he was just an oversized dog, that had a lighting speed if so desired and could tear off a limb or two, or a whole body if it wanted to.
But the lady of the castle tamed it and occasionally would ride on its back when the male Norvillons weren't around to scold her, like now.
Just right after he exited the main building, Lizzie had rode the Fenrir, although sitting femininely and in a speed she could not fall.
It was a delight for the guards on duty to watch the silver haired goddess, blessing the Norvillon grounds like a ritual of fortune.
Princess Feliziia Norvillon, almost seventeen, has bloomed into a young beautiful woman.
-ˋˏ ༻❁༺ ˎˊ-
Season will be a ride.
It is.
Gosh.
SOON
Ellena Odde ❤️
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Lizzie of the North (Yrsoreth Chronicles 2)
FantasyStories of how to survive as an evil duke's daughter are nothing new. But then fate just had to, really had to, put Lizzie at the center of such repetitive chaos, with nothing but cuteness and wits as her weapon. ༒♛♔ ♛༒ Lizzie survived a burning orp...
