She felt blessed, like the Stars themselves had granted her this. There was no limit, no rules or constraints. She was boundless; she was home, safe and secure in his unbreakable embrace.
~
Shackled in an abrupt and demanding upbringing, Althera is...
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Althera guessed she looked fine as she studied herself in the full-length mirror. She was swaddled in perfect clothes for her and Zephyra's sparring lesson today, which seemed much more exhilarating to her than it ever had.
Though she wore a tunic the color of light caramel and a pair of pants with cuffs rolled up at the ankles, it was still a refreshing sight. It might have been another one of the things she had stolen from the castle, but it suited her well – better than the guards, at least. The size was still one too big, even though she'd snatched the smallest there on sight.
The leather covering had pockets and straps which were already accommodated by her knives. None of the guards had found any of those weapons on her because she had used up the time she had to bury them under a tree. She had gone back to retrieve it, and here they were, shining beautifully and maliciously on her chest and legs. Her left arm was still slightly sore from the cut she had made on herself to get the guards off her back.
When she arrived back in her rooms that night, Kartella had been waiting for her with a rolled-up blanket and another cup of tea she had poured into a plant pot when the maid wasn't paying attention and rather admonishing her as she stoked the fire. She knew the maid was worried about her safety and her job, and she had felt bad, which was why she had requested Kartella go back to rest for the night. Of course the maid had complained, but she left in the end and Althera tumbled into bed. She hadn't slept that peacefully in weeks. And it had felt good, she supposed.
But she frowned at her reflection anyway. There was nothing to be proud of. She had only pushed away the darkness that had invaded her mind, not destroyed it completely. Who knew when it might come back for her? She had told it to never return, but she was skeptical it would ever be effective.
Her skin was still pale and sunken, the bags under her eyes more visible than ever. Though she had slept well for the past several days, it wasn't unknown to her that she was always exhausted in the mornings and afternoons. She didn't have that much of an appetite either, like that darkness had somehow taken a piece of her soul with it as it vanished. But she did seem in better shape than a week before – she didn't vomit a random anymore and swallowing down food brought to her when she felt like it hadn't been a real hardship, either.
Pinning the last pieces of her hair up into the braid hanging from her head, Althera turned away from the mirror and made for the door, somewhat shipped the side from her slamming it too hard a couple of times back. She was easily angered and putting to use whatever force she had on whatever object seemed like a rather good idea to snuff out her irritation. A few of the candelabras needed to be replaced in the process.
She made it to the dungeons in less time than it actually took, eager, though she would not admit it. Discreetly practicing her knife-throwing and blocking and attacking was certainly an unusual but productive way of passing her time, and she was thirsty to show Zephyra the new moves she had been working on. She had been more patient and understanding as an instructor, and it was a great help, even though Althera had purposefully thrown a few scratches at her, which the rebel seemed prouder of than annoyed at.
