A Flurry Of Crimson

Chapter 18 | Sick world

Just when i thought that the memory is becoming a better unhindered, clear view, everything backpedaled. Then everything became set.

I am now able to comprehend the darkness of the scene. I am now seeing a memory of a forgotten ancestor, painted through the dust of past.

A woman whose face bloomed in beauty and grace. The charisma that she was built with could dismantle the stairs she descended on. She was in a hurry.

The fire of the bursting goblets appear like the orange sun melting into the horizon, accentuating the coarse lines of the stones that dominated the landscape.

Her sharp eyes shot to a man that seem to swim in the 50th sea of his life. He had a well determined destination, not when the elegant lady pinned him in place with a single look of hers.

"Behold, do you have a new report about the peasants?" says she. The dialect surely seems strange for me. Old English. Just like the muggle book I was reading 'Pride and Prejudice.'

"I had just apprised the high king about the infirmity roaming among' em," he waved over hastily, declining the giving of further explanation.

"Why are you beating around the bush? There is something thou need to tell me," she insisted with a flash of her eyebrows upwards, waiting for a response.

She wore an ivory bliaut, golden orfrois embroided to the sleeves and waist line as though she posessed all the wheats shining under the sun of noon. A hand-made weaved mantle drops from her shoulders, made just for such a noble woman.

He pondered for a few moments, but her eyes were growing sharp and deadly like two emeralds forging into some fervent fire.

He stole a glance of hers and went running across the hallway with his hands thrown in the air, "None shall take words out of mine mouth! thou shall not know!" Exclamations rang through the walls of the castle.

"Rascal," she hisses under her tongue, turning over her heels, aiming for the portal...

At the portal was a soldier who struggled to bow due to the metal uniform he wore. He cleared his throat before he ought to speak,"Your majesty, the king has forbidden you to get out of the castle. It's an order."

Her facial expressions insinuated the denial of what she'd took as contempt instead of anger. She managed to restrain her feelings."The princess takes no orders," she claimed before pausing, then tilted her head to the other side. "Henry!"

Another man appeared from across the hall, his pace rapid out of order. He stoped a few inches far from her, waiting for a command.

"take me to the peasants."

"Yet my highness--"

"Take me, I demand!"

That's when the man in metal- Henry, pointed to the guards at the portal with his chin to lift it. She exited the castle and he followed her where they both fell into the darkness of night. The princess and Henry, who probably was her escort, ambulated the basal green lands in a horse-drawn carriage.

The wheels of the cart elevated from the ground smoothly, as though it is upreared by ghosts, and the horse cart glided downhill. Fastly but smoothly.

Aurora's lips drew a smirk that hinted at some sensation of delight pride. She'd looked at Henry from the sides of her eyes, her fingers tracing the path, "what do we regard. Which is not that smooth? oh and please stop calling me 'your highness'! You are my beloved friend."

He laughed as his eyes gleamed when they met hers, "That's so kind of you, princess!"

The lady had demonstrated the ability to possess wandless magic, and it was fantastic to see his satisfaction. The surprise on his face is almost as similar as the surprise on a man's face who had just stumbled across a jewel. He would tense up every other second.