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Post by Nyte on Jun 26, 2019 20:35:18 GMT -5
Just peaking over the mountains in the distance the sun was starting its ascent into the sky and the signalling the start of a new day. As the sun's rays filtered through the morning fog and touched the walls and spires of a great city the vacant and dark streets of Phesa came to life with people going about their way to complete their daily tasks. Long avenues of closed and darkened windows became bright as lanterns were lit and shutters were thrown open. For those that were privileged with fame or fortune the careful game of flaunting their riches began once again. Precise and calculated moves that showed their power or influence over the capital city. For those less privileged the grueling tasks of moving the cities supplies and catering to the noblemen and merchants needs came first and foremost. It was an endless game of chess with as many players as there were chess pieces the pawns were to numerous to count but the moves were decisive and sometimes even deadly.
The difference between the upper and lower class was painstakingly obvious. The rich wore lavish clothing with bright and vibrant colors to announce their presence as loudly as possible when they entered a new area. Those of the lower class wore simple browns, tan tunics or sometimes black if they possessed enough nominal wealthy to afford slightly better attire. Besides their state of dress another noticeable difference was the fact that those of the lower class all wore bracelets of silver around their wrists. They were large and nearly shackle-like in their make. Those of the higher class sported an ability others around them lacked. They could use magic. Bright colorful and awe-inspiring spells or subtle magic that assisted their already ostentatious appearance.
Though their magic was grand and others who stopped to appreciate their displays often gave them praise or even applauded there were also those that looked on with disdain. Each person who was born was gifted with magic in their veins. Only those born into the upper class were allowed to be taught to use their gifts though. Those born into the lower end of the social scale were shackled with the silver bracelets that were enchanted to always fit the wearer. They siphoned the magical power from each individual who wore them and their power was transferred to facilities that gave the city power. The working class literally fueled the city while the rich simply enjoyed its spoils.
The city of Phesa was also the capital of a sprawling empire and also was the home of the royal family. Though the noblemen and merchants of the city often made public appearances the royal family kept a large staff within the palace to ensure their comfort and that their guests and operations were well taken care of. Of course each member of the royal staff was also graced with personal servants who catered to their every whim. Individuals who were tasked with the sole purpose of making sure the royal family wanted for nothing and never had to exert any effort outside of entertainment. Also, it was known that those who served the royal family were extremely expendable.
Selma, a young woman of 24 had worked for the royal family her entire life as a general cleaning maiden or helping in the kitchens during lavish events. Recently there had been a bit of an upset with the maid who served the crowned prince directly. She had been found trying to remove her bracelet and was instantly reported and "pardoned" from her services. The position as the prince's personal servant wasn't left open for more than an afternoon. Selma was chosen by the Queen to serve her son and she was bathed and dressed in a clean gown before being sent up to the prince's quarters. Each of their personal maids were far more presentable than the rest. It wouldn't be proper to have someone who was dirty or poorly dressed to serve anyone in the royal family.
As Selma stood outside of the prince's chamber door she glanced to her side at a golden vase that reflected her image back to her. Her dark brown hair hung down to her waist rather than being tied back in a tight bun. Her sun tanned skin was cleaned off all dirt or grime and allowed her forest green eyes to shine brightly in the natural light that shone through the windows. Her gown was white with a tan apron. Still held the same coloring for her class but was more stylish for presentation. She twisted the silver bracelet on her wrist, which had been polished to shine, and cleared her throat before lifting her hand to knock on the door. At the very last second she remembered to smile, happy to see her master, as she had been instructed by the head maid.
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Post by Blindside Tex on Jun 26, 2019 21:19:57 GMT -5
Spoiled. That was a name for the upperclass of Phesa. Everything handed to them. If it wasn’t handed over it was surly taken without much of a fight since the lower class couldn’t use magic to defend against the noblemen. The life that they lived was luxurious and filled with everything from alcohols to fine dances. It was the life to have, if you were so lucky to be born into it. Elijah Stormier was lucky enough to be born into the most wealthy of the nobles. He was born to the king and queen of Phesa. The body was waited on hand and foot. He was assigned a tutor to teach him his magics, his etiquette, how to use a sword...not that he had a need to….and so on.
Elijah was a well loved prince of the people. He made his appearance at every event that the upper class held. He could swoon any lady that he laid his eyes upon. His charming good looks certainly helped him along in that regard. He stood just over six foot with a strong build from his daily training with the captain of the royal guard. He had dark chocolate brown locks of hair that were kept short, yet he had a bit of an unkempt appearance to him, something that the noblewomen seemed to swoon over. His eyes were a captivating ocean blue that seemed as deep as the sea was large. He held a strong jaw and brow line. Along his jaw he kept a short beard.
To the knock at door footsteps could be heard behind it. The prince pulled the door open and looked to Selma with a raised brow. “You must be my new maiden.” He spoke, a soft smile upon his lips. He gazed into her eyes as he stood before her a moment, he wore a black tunic beneath a deep blue coat that was lined in golden swirled stitches. His eyes looked over Selma a long moment, “You shall do.” He smirked as he let out a chuckle. “Just don’t...” He paused and glanced to her wrist, how she fiddled with the bracelet. “Don’t try to remove that, hm? It wouldn’t be me that you have to worry about.” He spoke as he stepped back into the room. “We have a busy day ahead of us.” He left the door open as he walked over to the mirror as he continued prepping himself. He slipped the jacket from his shoulders. “There is a feast this evening. The festival of the lost. Yes?” He looked to her, “Ah and I’d be willing to bet you’ve never gone.” He smirked as he glanced to her. “But don’t worry, you’ll be going to a lot of events with me now.” He chuckled. “Think you’re up to the task...” He paused and tilted his head, “I didn’t catch your name.” He hung his jacket over a hook as he looked to her. “Why don’t you help me get ready for the feast?”
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Post by Nyte on Jun 26, 2019 21:47:21 GMT -5
When the door opened Selma kept her pleasant smile and nodded to his question about her being his new maiden. She didn't hesitate when he left the door open for her either and followed him in and only looked around to get her bearings on where his belongings where laid out in the room then turned her attention back to the Prince. The entire time he spoke Selma continued to smile and nodded as if she were pleased to simply be in his presence. "My name is Selma, Your Majesty, I look forward to our time together." Her words were practiced and her voice light to keep her tone positive. "The Festival, I'm told, is a very special occasion. I will select an appropriate attire for the event." She gave a slight bow, her hair falling before her shoulders a bit from the motion, and then moved to the wardrobe where some of his more lavish jackets were kept.
She removed a royal blue coat trimmed with silver and accented with a deep purple swirled throughout the cloth that represented the night sky. The Festival of the Lost was an event that was a mixture between being solemn and a joyous celebration. Not that Selma had ever been but she had heard stories from other servants that had attended for one reason or another. She also collected black leather shoes and pants with a light blue shirt to go under his jacket. The deep colors would give him a mysterious appearance and help with his reputation with the noblewomen of the court who liked to giggle and swoon at the sight of him.
She laid the garments out and stepped back for him to observe her choices while she stood with her hands folded before her and her eyes down cast enough to avoid direct eye contact with him if he were to look her way. The way she moved and quickly made decisions proved her tenor in working with the royal family, but even though she seemed content and pleased to be in his presence she was actually rather indifferent. He was another spoiled brat who didn't know an ounce of hardship. She would serve him till he got board and wanted another to take care of him and she would go back to cleaning the halls, tending the garden or any other task that was needing attention. This was just a phase in her endless toils.
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Post by Blindside Tex on Jun 26, 2019 22:13:42 GMT -5
“Selma.” The prince spoke as he watched her work. “That is an interesting name. One I haven’t heard before. Are you from Phesa?” He eyed her as she bowed and moved about the room. She was familiar to him. “You’ve been in the palace awhile.” He noted, he remembered seeing her in the halls before, cleaning. Her hair was usually tied up. He crossed his arms over his chest as he watched her pick the clothing. It was a quick choice. Almost too quick. Her words were well rehearsed which only caused him to chuckle. He stepped forward and lifted up the jacket, “I’ve never worn this one, the seamstress just made it a few weeks ago.” He glanced to her with a raised brow. “It speaks, don’t you think?” He set it back upon the bed.
Elijah turned to her again, his eyes gazed to her and he frowned slightly as he stepped forward. He reached a hand forward and his fingertip moved beneath her chin. He lifted her chin and gazed into her eyes. “You don’t need to avoid my eyes.” He smiled then as he searched the deep green color. “How am I to truly know how you feel if you’re always looking away? Hm?” He stepped back and moved to his closet. “Before I dress for the feast we have training lessons to attend.” He spoke as he grasped his sword and strapped it around his waist. He looked to her a moment before he nodded, “Come along then.” He motioned as he stepped from the room. The belt that held the sword hung at an angle about his waist, weighed down on one side by the beautifully crafted sword.
The prince led Selma through the hallways and out into the gardens where he followed a pathway toward the stables where the training grounds were. An open area for him to practice his swordsmanship. Elijah glanced to her, though the prince didn’t speak as he moved his eyes back ahead.
“Ah my prince.” The captain spoke as he bowed deeply. He didn’t greet Selma. It wasn’t custom to greet the servants. “How are you on this beautiful day, your majesty?”
“Splendid.” The prince spoke with a smile. “Shall we?” He asked as he stepped forward. He looked to Selma. “You may sit in the shade if you would like.” He pointed to a covered gazebo. “It is warm, if you are thirsty there is water.” He turned then and stepped with the captain. It was an hour of swordplay. Elijah was well versed in his movements which her fluid from one motion to the next. It was evident that he had been training since he was old enough to hold a sword. He blocked attacks and fended for himself quite well for a noble. Much better than most. By the end sweat beaded upon his face as he approached the gazebo. He grasped a mug of water and drank it quickly.
“Very well done, your majesty.” The captain spoke with a bow.
“Indeed. Thank you captain.” The prince grinned. He looked to Selma as the captain walked away. Next would be lunch. Though he would need to change his attire before he could attend such a meeting with the king and queen. “You will learn the events that we will do each day.” He spoke as he began walking. “It is a routine. Something added here and there and others subtracted.” He shrugged slightly. “Everything is planned down to the minute for me, so I don’t have much of a choice in the matter.” He looked to her and raised a brow.
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Post by Nyte on Jun 26, 2019 22:33:51 GMT -5
Selma hadn't been expecting him to care enough to ask about her origins. Though it was probably just a passing curiosity she found that it would be unwise to leave his question unanswered. "My family hails from the lands east of Phesa but I was born here and have remained for my entire life." When he reached towards her she couldn't help but to flinch slightly. Normally when hands extended towards her from noblemen it was to slap her or reprimand in some fashion. Even the head maiden often slapped the other women if they didn't clean something properly or seemed to be slacking in any way. When he lifted her gaze she wanted to recoil from his touch but remained where she was. "I apologize Your Majesty but I did not think you would care to know my thoughts."
When he released her chin she cast her gaze down once more, out of habit, and followed after him as he headed towards the yard where he could conduct his sword play. While they walked she studied his gate and how he greeted those he passed in the hall. She observed everything which had been her saving grace many times. She knew how to read people and could adjust her actions and words accordingly. When they arrived in the courtyard and the Captain greeted the Prince she simply continued to stand at attention until her charge needed something. When he offered her a shaded spot and water as refuge from the heat she paused for a moment as she processed the information. Though she was new to the position she knew how personal servants were treated. Often they were subjectedto harsh blows and words far more than the general staff. She hadn't heard of anyone ever offering a break, especially when she hadn't performed much work yet anyway.
Though she wasn't entirely convinced it wasn't a trap of some sort she decided to take him up on his offer of shade and went to stand under the gazebo. She did not sit and she did not touch the water. Her meal would be later in the day and then she would drink. For now she would play it safe and act as a servant should. Invisible and ready to jump at the first call of her master. While she waited she took the time to watch his sword play and admired his forms. She knew almost nothing about the art but found it pleasant to watch nonetheless. She had even relaxed a bit and let her smile slip from her lips until she saw the pair had concluded their sparing and the Prince moved to join her on the gazebo. She tensed once more as the thought of his offer being a trap entered her mind once more. He simply drank the water left for him and spoke to her to inform her of his next intentions. It was an unnecessary gesture and her brow furrowed slightly at the politeness he had shown her thus far. The expression didn't last long though before she returned to her pleasant and eager smile. "I will make sure to learn your schedule and keep up with you, Sire." She told him and bowed her head respectfully.
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Post by Blindside Tex on Jun 26, 2019 22:53:15 GMT -5
Elijah had noticed her furrowed brows. Though he didn’t speak of it. He walked forward and nodded to those that bowed to him. “I imagine you will keep up quite well, Selma.” He spoke with a grin. He knew that other nobles treated their servants in a different manner. It was a tiresome task for him to treat her horribly. It was something that the prince had never really done, the king and queen of course did not approve of his kind gestures to his servants. The queen when he was younger would punish his servants for him for speaking, looking at the prince, anything that she could find to punish the servants for. But as he grew older that was up to Elijah. Of course every now and then he had to show some form of punishment that the king and queen could see, otherwise he would be questioned, why was he treating his servant so well?
The prince pushed the heavy wooden door open to his room and he stepped inside. He looked to Selma a moment, “Draw up a bath would you?” He spoke as he stepped to a cabinet where he pulled out a bottle of whiskey. He poured a glass and sipped from it. “So you say you’re from the east. From Trivi? Yussik? Rahle?” He tilted his head slightly. “How interesting.” He sipped from his whiskey again. He watched her a long moment as he let out a breath. “You know Rahle is still an enemy city to Phesa. I believe it will be a quarrel for quite some time. One day perhaps it will end. With the right man as king.” He shrugged slightly. He stepped over to the water within a bucket and he snapped his fingers. The water instantly began to boil. “No need to waste time, hm?” He smirked to her as he stepped away as he sipped upon his whiskey.
Elijah waited for the bath to be drawn before he nodded to Selma. “It won’t take long. I trust you can pick a fine outfit for lunch, you did quite well with the choice for the feast tonight.” He nodded as he finished off his glass and set it upon the cabinet. He walked into the bathroom and closed the door behind him. Most nobles would have their servants wash them from head to toe. Not even a finger would be lifted in the process. Elijah on the other hand, he didn’t seem to wish such things from his servants. He bathed himself and he stepped from the bathroom with a towel wrapped about his waist. He looked to Selma, “Well, what choice have you made?” He questioned almost curiously. It was hard to tell what he was doing. If he was testing her. If he was trying to trap her in a web so that she might be punished for making the wrong move. Each move was much like a game of chess, as much of the life of a servant was. One wrong move...well...it could spell many different outcomes for the servant.
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Post by Nyte on Jun 26, 2019 23:32:34 GMT -5
Compliments and kind gestures.. either the Prince was a fool or the most cruel man Selma had ever encountered. Being kind to servants, who were simply slaves in all but name, did not bring admiration among the rich and famous. There had even been spectacles of punishing servants for various misdeeds. She would need to be extra cautious around this man.
When they reached his chambers she was going to step in front of him to push the door open for him, as was expected, but he did it himself and offered no complaint in doing so. Selma squeezed her hand in a fist as she felt a bit of anxiousness rise up within her. She understood why the other woman might have been driven to try and remove her bracelet. Not that she would ever attempt such a thing herself.
When he instructed her to draw a bath she nodded and went to fetch the bucket that would allow her to fill the basin. While she did so she listened to him talk, passively, as she expected him to simply fill the silence with the sound of his own voice. Though when he mentioned that Rahle was still an enemy nation she glanced back to him to gauge his expression upon that realization. She hadn't stated exactly what nation she haled from but it didn't matter anyway. He would draw his own conclusions. When he snapped his fingers and the water before her started to boil she nearly dropped the bucket. It was the first time she had ever seen magic used to do something useful and to help her nonetheless. More strange behavior from the Prince but she took it in stride and continued her assigned task.
The next thing he did left her a bit dumbfounded as well. He didn't want her to bathe him? She had assisted so many royals and guests with their baths before she felt as if she might have offended him somehow and he no longer wished her to be in his presence, but why wouldn't he have just said so if that were the case? Instead of worrying about the what-ifs and strange behavior she focused on collecting clothing for him for lunch. A green tunic and white shirt with pants the color of a dark wood. The combination would resemble nature and therefore make him seem more grounded. She also busied herself with tidying up his room and putting away a few of his belongings while she waited.
By the time he emerged from the bath she was standing next to his clothing she had picked and waited for his judgement on her choice. Her eyes were lowered once more. Avoiding any chance that he might think she was staring at his exposed torso. "I chose something a bit more humble for lunch with the King and Queen. I understand that the Queen favors this color as well." Everything Selma did had a purpose and she made no rash decisions. A reckless type of thinking got servants killed.
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Post by Blindside Tex on Jun 27, 2019 6:56:04 GMT -5
Elijah stepped forward to the clothing with a grin upon his lips. She certainly wasn’t wrong about his mother, green was her favorite color. The color of the kingdom’s flags even. He lifted the tunic and turned it about as a chuckle came over his lips. “That you are correct.” He raised a brow as he looked to her. “Not a terrible choice at all, you might just be the most thoughtful servant I’ve yet to have.” He grinned once again as if he was amused by her. He lifted up the clothing and disappeared behind a divider. Strange actions for a royal no doubt. He didn’t ask her to dress him. He simply pulled his clothing on and he was in front of the mirror within a few minutes. His towel was haphazardly tossed over the top of the divider.
The prince turned his head from left to right as he combed through his hair. He left it smoothly parted and then shook his head slightly before he ruffled his hair with his fingertips. “You know if you are from Rahle….” He glanced to her, “That would be quite the interesting story to hear. How your parents got into Phesa...” He turned to her as he dabbed cologne upon his wrists and neck. His deep blue eyes were locked on her a long moment. “Usually those of Rhale that come to Phesa end up dead.” His voice was almost stabbing as he spoke. He stepped forward to her and stood directly in front of her then. Once again he lifted her jaw to gaze into her eyes, a smirk upon his lips. “Unless you aren’t from Rhale. Unless you just forgot to answer my question. Though, I would almost be willing to be that you do hail from Rhale.” He let out a soft chuckle. “You know, when I become king I intend on ending the war with Rhale. My father is as stubborn headed as they come, he refuses to let such old quarrels go. He refuses to mend things with a city that would offer trade of very useful goods.” A smile curved up his lips once again. “But I digress, hm?” He finally lowered his fingertip from beneath her chin before he turned away.
Elijah stepped back to the mirror where he brushed a few oils through his short beard. He flattened his tunic before he gave a slight nod. “So, what is it then….Selma…?” He questioned as he turned, he leaned his hips against the dresser and crossed his arms over his chest. “I may be different than the other noblemen that you’ve served.” A grin split his lips as he watched her, “I like to know my servants. If that will pose as a problem for you Selma well...” He stepped forward as he pushed his hands into the pockets of his pants. “I suppose I could have you relieved of the duty. Most would beg and plead to serve me.” He shrugged, “Though it doesn’t seem that you are entirely thrilled, are you?” He watched her closely. The prince paid attention to small actions, small gestures and reactions. He was incredibly observant of his surroundings for a royal, especially for the pampered prince that he was. “It’s a shame really.” He let out a sigh as he stepped to her and gazed over her. “To let such talent go to waste.” He lifted her chin. “It isn’t a hard job, Selma.” He spoke as he gazed into her eyes. “In fact, it may be the easiest you’ve had. So...do you wish for me to relieve you?” He stared into her eyes then, the smile from his lips had disappeared as he awaited her answer. “Would you like to return to washing the floors? Ridding the garden of weeds? I’d be hard pressed to find such a thoughtful servant to replace you with. Lilly spent months learning what outfits I should wear….you already understand...I don’t have to teach you, Selma.”
Lilly was the young maiden that was relieved of her services after the Queen caught her trying to remove her bracelet. A tinge of sadness rose up in the prince’s eyes when he’d spoken her name. The young maiden had been with him for almost two years at that point. Not the longest servant he’d had, but then again she’d made a mistake. Simple as it may seem, the nobles took such actions very seriously. The punishment for bracelet removal? Death. Not a quick death either. It was slow and painful. Elijah had stood among the other nobles as the queen ordered Lilly’s death. He’d looked away as the blade stabbed into the young maiden’s body and her blood spilled upon the floor. Elijah took in a deep breath as he opened his eyes after a long moment of holding them closed. He stared into Selma’s eyes then watching her closely. “Well?” He asked breaking the silence of the room.
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Post by Nyte on Jun 27, 2019 10:53:09 GMT -5
Selma was glad he found the clothing she licked out acceptable. It prevented her from having to go back and choose again, and when he simply stepped behind his divide to dress himself she wasnt quite as surprised. Even though she had only been around him a couple of hours she started to expect him to act differently than normal. She wasnt going to let him throw her off balance so easily. She collected his towel that he tossed over the divide and placed it in a basket that she would take to wash later on while the Prince slept that evening.
With him dressed she expected to leave for lunch with the King and Queen but instead it seemed he wanted to talk. To learn about her? What a strange request, but she had to humor him. "My father hails from Rahle but my mother is from Phesa originally." She paused to gauge his reaction. "She was taken as a slave and eventually gave birth to me from her master then when he died from illness she managed to make her way back here and I've been here since." It wasnt an uncommon story. Bastard children were something seen frequently from nobles but they held none of the benefits from their noble parent.
At his taunting on whether or not she wanted to keep her job she narrowed her eyes ever so slightly before catching herself with the expression. On one hand she wanted to tell him to find someone else to tease and torment but on the other she knew it wouldnt end well for her if she told the Prince she didnt want to work for him. "As long as Your Highness is happy with the services I provide then I am happy as well." She told him sweetly with her well practiced smile still playing on her full lips.
When the sadness flickered through his expression she found the reaction strange. No one mourned a servant. Perhaps missed their work if they were good, but it was a fleeting thought most quickly brushed away. Perhaps there had been more to the Prince and Lilly and the story of her removing her bracelet was created to hide a scandal. It was an interesting thought but one she would have to ponder later.
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Post by Blindside Tex on Jun 27, 2019 11:15:34 GMT -5
Elijah didn’t relax back from Selma as she spoke. He smirked to her narrowed eyes as he seemed to challenge her. Was it a challenge? Or was it just how the prince acted? When she finished speaking and placed the well practiced smile upon her lips he chuckled. “Well then, I’m quite impressed thus far.” He spoke, “I imagine you’ve more interesting stories to tell me.” He raised a brow slightly. “I’ve not heard of many returning from Rahle after capture or trade. You’re lucky to have been graced with servitude in Phesa. I hear the Rahle nobles are quite….” He paused a moment as he relaxed back from her, his finger that had been curled under her chin moved beneath his own chin as he leaned back on his heels. “Harsh could be a word. Barbaric I suppose would be another. Depending upon how one looks at things.” He watched her another long moment, “Well...enough idle banter, hm?” He turned away from her dropping his hand from his chin. He exited his room and moved quickly through the halls. Though he stopped before the doorway to the royal dining hall and looked to the two guards that stood outside of it.
“Your majesty.” one spoke as they both bowed. The doors were opened then.
The prince stood up straight as he entered the dining hall. He glanced to Selma and his lips parted to speak. “Elijah, my dear boy.” The king spoke which caused him to snap his head forward. “Such a fine specimen we’ve chosen for your servant. Don’t you agree boy?” The king grinned as he looked to Selma. “Something to look at, hm?”
“Yes father, thank you. Quite a good servant. Very good at clothing choices as well as bathing.” The prince spoke as he stepped forward. Another servant pulled his chair out for him and he was seated at the table.
“Oh dear child.” The queen sighed heavily. Her eyes looked to Selma then. “Servant.” She spoke, her voice cross. “You see this?” She questioned as she motioned to her son’s hair. “I expect you to keep him proper. Do you believe he should be seen by the public’s eye looking like a vagrant such as yourself?” She snapped as she stood. “And this...this tunic.” She scoffed as she motioned toward it. “Does it draw out his features or drown them? Do you know anything of royal dress? Of decorum? Of anything girl?” She stood before Selma her brows drawn tightly together. “Or was it me that you were trying to impress solely? Hm? Because the appearance of the prince is rather important, don’t you think, servant?”
“Mother.” The prince spoke up, he stood from his chair and stepped between the two. He stood a head over his mother as he looked down to her. “I do believe I requested green.” He spoke, “It is a rather flattering color I believe. Our kingdom’s colors in fact.” He stared into her eyes. “For a new servant you cannot expect her to be perfect, can you? She is learning. She was merely a floor scrubber before, was she not mother?”
The queen slapped her son harshly across his cheek leaving a pink mark upon his skin beneath his beard. “Sit.” She ordered. She then gripped Selma harshly by her upper arm as she dragged her from the great hall. “I expect you to follow my orders.” She didn’t release her tight grip upon her. “During this festival starting tonight Elijah is to be looking for the woman of nobility that he is to wed. That will make him king once his father passes on the crown. Yes? Do you understand that girl? Having him dressed inappropriately or with his hair in such a mess is absolutely horrid. I will not stand for it. If he showed up to the festival looking such as he does he would bring home nothing more than a vagrant wench upon his arm. That does not suit a king. Now does it?” Her grip seemed to tighten on Selma’s arm then. “Go and speak with Fallon, she will guide you on proper dress and etiquette. My son had better look the way I would like him to look. Understand?” She finally released her grip before she stepped back into the grand hall and found her place across from her son at the table.
Elijah glared to his mother from where he sat. “Really mother? Are you going to kill her as well for me wearing green? Or was it the hair that threw you over the edge?” He snapped before he took a bite of his steak. “Do tell me how you plan to murder this servant whom hasn’t committed a crime. Perhaps I’ll choose and outfit for the occasion.” His snide remark only caused the queen to glare back at him in silence. He’d pay for the remarks, but now was not the time.
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Post by Nyte on Jun 27, 2019 12:15:05 GMT -5
Luckily the questions didnt continue after that and the prince decided it was time to head to lunch. As she was expected to do she followed on his heels and kept her gaze down. The guards at the hall eyed her and one even nodded a short greeting as they were more familiar with the staff. When they entered the hall Selma tensed as the Queen greeted her with obvious dislike in her voice. Their comments didn't bother her and she was glad the prince only offered praise when the king asked about her. However the positive notes didnt last long.
When the queen started to point our various mistakes on Selma's wardrobe choices she tried to make herself as small as possible. Though she remained in her spot she lowered her head and pulled her shoulders in slightly as if she were ashamed. Then as the Prince stood before her to guard her from his mother she was taken back by what he said. He had not chosen the green and she had been solely responsible for it. Why had he defended her? No one else would have.
The slap she delivered across his cheek made Selma jump as well. She could tell it had been hard and probably stung quite a bit. She had never seen anyone strike a noble and it left her speechless. Though after that she didnt have time to worry about the Prince as the Queen gripped her arm firmly. So hard in fact was her grip that Selma winced slightly as she felt a twinge of pain in her shoulder when she was forced to follow her out to the hall and instructed to go and talk to Fallon. "Of course Your Majesty." Selma told her and turned to leave the hall while the royal family ate their meal.
Fallon was the Queen's own maiden. She had held that position for so long that one could remember who it had been before her. She was a gnarled old woman with piercing eyes and a quick temper. The Queen adored her though which is why she was kept around for so long. When Selma entered the Queen's chambers she bowed her head when Fallon turned to look at her from making up the Queen's bed. "Ma'am, Her Highness has sent me so that I may learn to dress the Prince properly."
There was a moment of silence then the sound of Fallon's shoes on the stone floor as she made her way over to Selma and when she looked up to the woman she felt thebl sharp sting of a slap across her face. She turned her head from the force of it and became a little dazed from it as well. "If you were sent to me then you deserve that. I swear the staff girls they choose now are each worse than the last." Fallon said in an irritated tone as she straightened her apron. "Now, let's go to the Prince's chambers and begin the lessons." Selma was holding a hand to her cheek as she listened and nodded. "And stand up straight. You slouch like a bum."
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Post by Blindside Tex on Jun 27, 2019 18:57:10 GMT -5
Elijah was silent as he poked at his food. He spooned the vegetables into his mouth and glanced to the king whom looked most displeased as well. “Well son.” He finally broke the silence. “Tonight is a big night for you, and for us as a family.” He raised a brow slightly.
“Is it really?” Elijah asked, a fake shocked expression upon his face. “I never thought it would be a big night at all.”
“Elijah.” The queen snapped from across the table. “You’re lucky that you are my son and not a servant.” Her voice was cross as she glared at him.
“You would have killed me too mother?” He challenged a brow raised as he sipped from his wine glass. A chuckle came over his lips. “And just how would you plan to--….”
“Enough.” The king slammed his fist down on the table. “I understand that you are frustrated with what happened to your servant, but you’ve been given a new one. A better one in fact.” He looked to the queen a moment. “It is most displeasing that this had to happen right before the festival yes, but it needed to happen, son.” He looked back to Elijah.
“Needed to?” Elijah questioned his brows drawn together. “Catching her trying to slip off her bracelet...that needed to happen?” He pried.
The king cleared his throat. “Tonight I want you to find a girl named Melanie. She’s a pretty blonde girl, a noble. She’s visiting from Kaldan, it would be most pleasing to your mother and I if you were to dance with her. To speak with her, get to know her. Her family runs Kaldan and it would be a formidable ally for us to have. Hm?”
“So you want me to court her and marry her.” Elijah spoke as he finished his meal. “I’m certain I don’t have much of a choice then.” He looked across the table to his mother with an agitated glare. “Do I mother?”
The queen drank the rest of her wine before she forced a smile in the direction of her son. “You used to be such a pleasant son.” She sighed, “What has gotten into you lately, hm? You never used to question me.”
“You’ve killed….” He thought for a moment. “5 of my servants. All for such interesting reasons. Hm?” He stood. “Shall I excuse myself?” He questioned as he turned to walk from the hall.
“You’ll speak with the girl, Elijah.” His father called after him.
“Of course father, I wouldn’t dream of disobeying the king and queen.” He turned and bowed deeply to them. He took in a breath before he left the room quickly. It wasn’t until recently that he’d begun to put the pieces together. He’d uncovered the lies that his mother was wrapped up in. The servant before Lilly...she was caught stealing from the queen’s chambers. Likely story. He watched as the woman pleaded for her life just before she was executed. The servant before that plotting treason. He’d never thought her the type. Then again, had he truly known her? He questioned it but it was entirely possible that she could have been planning such an act. Then Lilly...trying to remove her bracelet? Why? It was completely out of character for her...he knew that to be the truth. That was the nail on the head. It was the last driving force that caused him to talk back to his mother, to stand up the way he had. He’d yelled at her over the whole ordeal. Elijah tried to get the queen to confess her reasons for killing his servants. Was it because he got to close to them? Why should it matter if he would rather treat his servants kindly?
Elijah burst through the doorway to his room and he paused. His brows were still drawn together as he looked upon to old woman Fallon. He then looked to Selma before he clicked his tongue, frustrated. “Whatever do you plan to do to me now, Fallon?” He asked with a sharp tongue as he poured himself a glass of whiskey and drank it swiftly. “She doesn’t need your assistance, it doesn’t matter what clothing I wore mother would have disapproved of it to make a point.” He scoffed. “Even if it had been you who chose the outfit.” His eyes narrowed slightly as he looked to the old woman. He stepped forward to her and gazed down to her a long moment. “Selma can manage to get me ready.” He nodded as he stepped to the door and opened it. He motioned with his arm for her to leave then as he gave a sigh.
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Post by Nyte on Jun 27, 2019 22:00:04 GMT -5
Selma listened to Fallon and nodded or responded to questions when it was appropriate. With each correct answer she gave it was almost as if Fallon was disappointed that she couldn't reprimand her further. She was a cruel woman with no love in her heart except for her mistress.
When the door slammed open as the Prince entered the room both women turned to look at who had barged in so loudly. At first Fallon seemed as if she was going to scold who it was but stopped herself at the last second. Being dismissed so rudely by the Prince was something she wasnt accustomed to but she took it in stride as she held her head high and walked from the room as he held the door open for her. "Good day Your Highness." She told him before walking down the hallway and out of sight.
Selma continued to stand where she was until Fallon had disappeared around the corner. "I'm sorry for my behavior." She told him. "I have selected a new attire choice for you this evening. I hope you find it acceptable." Her forced smile wasnt as prevalent now that she had endured Fallon for over an hour. When she gestured to the clothing on the bed it was a more stunning selection of blacks and silvers that would show power and dignity. Her previous choice was a bit more whimsical and after her encounter with the Queen she did not want to face more punishment. Already there was a sizable bruise on her arm from the Queen grabbing her and towing her out of the room as well as a small one on her cheek bone from Fallon. She always bruised so easily.
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Post by Blindside Tex on Jun 29, 2019 10:21:02 GMT -5
Elijah shut the door and let out a long breath as if he was calming himself. His jaw was tight as he turned and looked to Selma. When she spoke he frowned slightly as his eyes looked to the bruising upon her cheek and arm. He quietly stepped forward then and stood before her his deep blue eyes stared to her a long moment, “You do not need to apologize to me.” He spoke, his brows were furrowed. He turned to the clothing upon his bed. “I liked the other outfit better.” He commented, “Though, what I like and what the queen would prefer can be completely different things.” He turned with the clothing in his arms. He watched Selma a long moment, it seemed as though the gears within his mind were spinning rapidly as his eyes once again looked to the bruising. He pressed his lips together the anger showed in his expression then as he closed his eyes for a brief second. He then shook his head and walked behind the divider. “I can assure you that I am not the one that you need to have worries of. As you’ve clearly seen.” He spoke as he tossed his clothing to hand atop of the divider.
“I am not in agreement with many things that my mother forces upon me and the entire kingdom.” He tossed another piece of clothing over the divider. “Especially things that she believes need to be changed...” He stepped from behind the divider dressed in the black and silver clothing that Selma had picked for him. Or had Fallon truly picked the ensemble? He straightened the jacket slightly and let out a slight sigh as he stepped to the mirror and looked to his reflection. He turned and looked to Selma then. His eyes watched her carefully before he stepped forward. He stood right before her as he reached up with his hand. He moved slowly so he wouldn’t startle her. Though he didn’t speak his expression was calm and relaxed. He gently touched the bruising upon her cheek, a warmth would have spread through her skin at his touch. He tilted his head slightly as he focused in. Then he moved his fingertips to touch the bruise upon her arm, the same warmth would spread about here as well. The prince took in a breath as he took a step back, “There, now….” He cleared his throat slightly as he stepped away. He stood before the mirror again and looked to his hair and gave a sigh. “Do tell me how I should look presentable for the festival.” He raised a brow. “I’m certain that Fallon has told you exactly what my mother wants you to do. Am I correct?” He questioned as he glanced to her once again.
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Post by Nyte on Jun 29, 2019 10:38:03 GMT -5
Selma glanced up from her down cast gaze when he told her not to apologize. When she saw that he was walking toward her however she quickly looked down once more. She had been struck to many times today already and was not looking to get another slap. When she felt him touch her cheek she closed her eyes then as the warm spread through her skin she looked up to meet his gaze and saw the soft expression he held as he once again used his magic to aid her. Then once his work there was done he moved to her arm and she felt the same warm sensation. Once he had finished and took the clothes behind the divider she looked at herself in the mirror and saw that the bruises were completely gone. Even when she touched the spots there was absolutely no pain. She hadn't ever recieved magical healing and found it rather awe inspiring, much less that the Prince had been the one to treat her minor wounds.
When he tossed the clothing over the top of the divide she moved to collect the garments and tossed them in the same basket from earlier. Then when he emerged, now fully dressed, she gave a nod and motioned for him to sit down at the vanity next to the mirror. He was to talk for her to work on his hair while he stood. When he sat down she picked up a brush, stood behind him, and gently started to comb through his locks. She let silence fall between them for a short while before she looked up at him through the mirror. "Thank you for standing up for me. It was unnecessary, but I appreciate it." No one stood up for servants and he had even been slapped by the Queen for doing so.
The way she brushed his hair it tamed the somewhat wild look he had before to a smooth part to his right side and gave the impression of a organization and was very traditional. She could only hope Fallon would brag to the Queen how she had picked out the Prince's attire so that the Queen would approve however.
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