A maiden must marry into nobility to uphold honour in her family's name. However, when her soon-to-be husband is burned alive by a fiery creature, she realizes there's more to life than just suitors and balls.
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As a woman...
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《· of stirring troubles ·》
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There was great unrest in Limroy. There had been since before dawn broke its first light. Such unrest that not even the unexpected arrival of Lord Bastian of Vlarkala himself could settle such unnerved chatter.
"You felt that, right?" one asked.
"We all felt that earthquake. It damn near woke the entire continent up," two said.
"It has to be the Hasaheller Tips, right?"
"Well, do you know of any other mountain scapes makin' a racket?"
Mistress Fiona Annabeth Willows had gone out to welcome his Lordship to Limroy, whilst Alyria was grateful she wasn't summoned to attend, for she was restless herself, though for a much different reason.
Since the moment she woke, her skin shivered with raw heat. She felt utterly chilled to the bone, yet upon Audrey's concerned palm, it was a contrasting truth; "Heavens, sister, you're burning up!"
It was the least of the maiden's worries, as she could hardly keep her head from spinning the room long enough to see clearly. How could she hope to ride all day in a carriage and still walk afterwards without a stutter in stride? Much less have the energy to stay awake?
It couldn't possibly have anything to do with the dream she had, could it?
Alyria leaned against her painted wood headboard, feeling its hewn artwork in protruding detail. She groaned achingly, exhaling hot air to ease the pressure against her chest. However, she must be delusional if she thought she had actually seen a wisp of smoke follow through. How ridiculous.
Another breath and her gaze wandered up. Upon the ceiling, a marvel of white-hewn flowers scribbled across the plain, caressing delicate swirls of leafy vines in all innocence could offer—alas, ruined by the fresh cracks running darkness in a rude manner.
Yet, despite the tarnish, it was how she imagined Everflower Falls to be. An innocuous bouquet to a third person perspective, yet within, held the land of the forrayse pixies. Flowers that reached for the sky in beautiful blooms of colour, with their stalks accommodating a pixie or two each. Gushing waterfalls tumbling over mushrooms for mountains, moss as the ground, and a tree of eternal radiance for its palace.
Dandeberry may or may not have shared such delicate secrecy once or twice when the other two were elsewhere.
The door opened. Audrey strode in, ever collected in her features, with their handmaids in suit. Tali and Mildred ushered themselves further in with sloppy buckets in hand. They disappeared behind a divider situated in front of Alyria's bed, obscuring the expectant bathtub laying behind. A moment later, the sound of gushing water filled the brocade walls, furling lavender-scented steam above the opaque paper windows in wispy wonder.
