(12/29/2018)
''We have calcium in our bones,
iron in our veins,
carbon in our souls,
and nitrogen in our brains.
93 percent stardust,
with souls made of flames,
we are all just stars that have people names.''
- Nikita Gill.
AFTER THE DRAMATIC END OF...
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WHEN THE SUNLIGHT TOUCHED ELIZABETH'S GOLDEN HAIR, IT GLOWED BRIGHTLY AROUND HER, LIKE A HALO. Behind the place where she was sat, a stained glass window laid colourful prints along the light blue-ivory expanse of the silky fabric which composed the outer part of her gown. The colourful prints also graced the fair skin of her neck - exposed as it was by the posh braids holding up her aureate hair- , hands and face. In this light, she could easily be a saint, thought Klaus, blue eyes fixated on the princess before him. Holier than Mary.
Around her, a dozen women posed in the primply decorated living room of the Royal Palace which he observed from behind the doorstep - ladies in waiting, he knew, embroidering, sewing and conversing around her Grace while keeping their sharp, clever ears intensely tuned to whatever she was saying, eyes periodically searching for her to be forever completely aware of what she was doing - but Klaus could only see Elizabeth; the way the small space between her brows wrinkled as she examined the canvas before her; the way her long, dainty fingers, stained with a myriad of colours come from paint, clutched the brush held between them; the way her eyes narrowed as she silently criticized her work, bright blue orbs quickly flashing across the expanse of paint-stained fabric in quiet judgment; and the way her white teeth sunk into the reddish flesh of her bottom lip fleetingly, only for the pink of her tongue to tease an appearance as it soothed the slight hurt of a light bite.
The sight of her tongue gave him both chills and a feeling of remembrance. He had seen it two days before, when she had licked her lips before smiling a grin so sweet it became venomous and gently snapping at the so called "Hand of God".
That thought - and the memories it brought of a woman (dignified and collected like a marble statue of the godly Venus and of sharp, deadly wit and glare) that gracefully posed as Queen, ruler of realms and men - combined with the sight of her seated in front of him coated in blue and ivory silks, poised like Minerva herself, were almost enough to leave him amazed, greedily observing her every movement; struck by a Queen's dazzling glow.
However, the memory of that gracious neck of hers beautifully adorned by a golden chain, as fair as her hair and holding a stone almost too big to be considered elegant, which had been caged around fine decorations of gold that did nothing to hide the unique gem they held, was, in the end, enough to prompt the man forward into the room, and when every pair of eyes but one immediately snapped to him and his brother, who came behind him and bowed immediately in a show of respect, Klaus smirked and made a mesure as well, eyes devious as he said, a malicious tint to his tone; ''So far as I recall, Your Grace, you did tell me you were not particularly gifted when it came to painting.'' smirking even more whenever Elizabeth's eyes snapped to his figure, the Mikaelson lord could not help but reap some pleasure from the stunned surprise in the wide blue orbs before speaking once more, humored sarcasm evident in every word; ''There is always the possibility, however, that I can be wrong, of course.'' he raised two eyebrows of burnished gold in a mock of pious self consciousness ''After all, our princess never lies.''
