The Prince Of Curses h.s.

Ten

I sat in the library, bored.

My hand was placed under my chin as I stared down at an old book. I tried to focus on the words as my eyes scanned over them but I couldn't bring myself to do it.

Last night was the same as any other. I trained in the courtyard with Harry for hours. He tried teaching me new tips and tricks while making me repeat old ones but nothing seemed to surface my magic.

I was starting to believe that I was never going to be able to figure out my magic and I was doomed to be stuck here forever, spending countless nights on useless training.

I sighed, closing the book on the table in front of me. I looked around the library, I seemed to be the only person who enjoyed this space. I stood, making my way to a shelf and sliding my book back into place. 

I walked to the back of the library, my feet carrying me to a door. I suppose looking around the castle couldn't hurt, at least it was something I was allowed to do. I pushed the door open, entering one of the hallways in the castle. My shoes slightly clicked on the marble floor as I walked down it.

I gazed at the paintings on the walls as I passed them. Most of them were old portraits of other royals who once ruled this kingdom.

I turned down a hallway I'd never been down before, continuing to look at the decor on the walls. It wasn't until I approached a large door with a placard outside of it that read 'gallery' that I stopped. 

My hand wrapped around the gold handle of the door as I pushed it open, revealing a large room full of paintings. These paintings were different from any of the ones hanging in the hallways.

I walked over to one, my eyes gazing over it. It was a painting of scenery, so detailed that I felt as if I were in it too. I envy the person who has a skilled enough hand to create something so lifelike.

I continued walking down the row of large paintings, stopping to admire each one. There was one of the prince sitting in his throne chair, hands coming behind him to place the crown over his head. He was in a dark tunic, his brows naturally furrowed, and his jawline sharp.

There was a door at the end of the gallery, I decided to walk through it, trying to learn my way around the castle.

The hallway I entered had a large window extending down it. I stopped and looked out the window, viewing the courtyard from the side. It was empty with the exception of the occasional gardener trimming bushes or weeding plants. 

I continued to walk. I came up to a spiral staircase located to the right of the wall. I decided to go down instead of up. 

My hand grasped the handrail as I took careful steps down the narrow stairwell. Warm smells filled my nostrils as the stairs opened to a kitchen.

It was a large room, nothing less of the expectation that comes with this castle, with cooks and servants scattered about. This must be a servant's stairwell, I thought to myself.

The smell of sugar and spices floated throughout the air, which reminded me of the bakery. I walked further into the kitchen, trying to stay near the wall so I didn't bump into any of the workers.

"Fresh crumpet?" someone asked as I walked by. 

I turned, looking at a man who held a plate out to me. I assumed he was a chef by his attire.

"Sure," I smiled, taking one off his plate and sinking my teeth into it. It was warm and sweet, making a comforting feeling wash over me. 

I missed my family's bakery so much, the smells, the food, my parents. Nothing tasted better than warm, soft, fresh bread.