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The Necromancer's Bookcase: Chapter 3
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The Necromancer's Bookcase: Chapter 3 |
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Kosetsu Member
since 2001-03-10
Posts 450Alabama, USA |
The Lord Anthony departed from a passing lord that had a question or two to ask, a nod of his head answering the man’s bow. He’d at least received good reports on how the armies were forming up. As he had ordered, the guard had been increased on the northern borders of Toren, the armies and Lady’s Guard prepared to be mobilized at any moment. He’d had Count Diego Cervantes stationed at Fort Gunther. He was a strong man, with a good sense of duty, as well as firm authority over his troops. He would not let Gunther fall. Sparkling green eyes pulled him from his thoughts. And to those eyes belonged what was perhaps the most beautiful face he had ever seen. Golden locks fell in curls, bobbing slightly against the woman’s face as she walked. A thin intricate dress adorned her body, highlighted with emeralds that brought out her eyes. The entire essence of the woman radiated of beauty. She walked towards him, and in passing…merely vanished. The Toreni lord blinked. Natalie. Was he still seeing visions of his late wife after all these years? With a sigh, a hand reached up to rub his right eye. Stress, he told himself, was causing this. But who had time to take a vacation outing in the mountains when a power-hungry arch-baron was intent on destroying every trace of your kingdom? Lydia held out a hand towards one of the small birds perched on the end of a branch. She sat on a stone bench, outside in the manor gardens. The little avian soon hopped from the branch, and alighted in the child’s tiny hand. She giggled slightly. At least there were no hordes of reanimated demons to worry about here. Still…the thought nagged at her mind. Her father seemed intent on bringing the country into a war. She frowned. Probably that witch, Quilla. While the two were not officially married, it was obvious of the interactions between Quilla Cervantes and her father. “With you wearing such a scowl, it’s a wonder that little bird doesn’t fly away in fear,” spoke a vaguely familiar voice. The girl’s eyes lifted to the boyish face belonging to the young figure before her. Her emerald eyes met those of sapphire blue. Thin locks of black hair played along the tops of those eyes, the full length pulled back into a nobleman’s ponytail. As the bird took flight from her hand, she stood, and dropped into a slight curtsy. “Duke Bornweyr…good morning,” she said slowly. As she rose from the curtsy, a thought came to mind: Why’s he here? His lips tightened slightly at the title. “Please, Lydia…can’t we forego the formalities for a while?” Lydia? Few people actually called her by that name, without a title. But she supposed it was all right. With a nod, she sat back down on the bench. “Did you need something?” He nodded slowly. “Just to talk…may I sit?” She replied with a nod, moving over to give him a place on the bench. Talk? With her? That was odd. “About what?” He sat with a small sigh, hands resting on his knees. He wore a simple tunic and pants. A silver pendant hung from a chain around his neck. “Well…you’ve heard of your father’s decision?” She nodded slowly. Why was he speaking of this to her? She couldn’t tell her father how to run the country…not until she was given leadership of it. He seemed to sense what she was thinking. “I don’t mean to try to sway you against him…I just want to know what you think of it,” he said after a moment, those sapphire eyes watching her small face. She nodded. Oh…was that all? “Oh…I don’t like it. It doesn’t seem smart,” she replied shortly. That was all…and it was the truth. Aside from her other thoughts, at least. Was that all he wanted? He didn’t seem satisfied by the answer. “I agree…he’ll run this country into the ground, at this rate,” he mutters. She scowled, standing to face him. “My father will do no such thing. He knows what he’s doing!” she retorted, her emerald eyes like biting steel. Now he insults her father? What did he really want? He remained calm throughout her small outburst. “Calm yourself, Miss Lydia. I didn’t mean that,” the young duke replied. “But surely you have some doubts as well about his reasons. Arch-Baron’s raids aren’t as severe as your father would have the others believe.” Her eyebrows raised slightly in amusement. “Daddy would not lie to me,” she said. He wouldn’t…would he? The dark haired youth shrugged. “Perhaps…but then again…he told you your mother would live too,” he replied, standing from his seat. Her little hands clenched into fists. “Go away!” she shouted, feeling the tears well up, threatening to fall if given chance. She wouldn’t give him the pleasure. The boy smirked, then bowed. “As you wish…my Lady,” he said, turning on his heel. She sat down on the bench, face falling into her hands. What if he was right? Her father had been wrong about her mother living… Schyler Bornweyr glanced over his shoulder at the little heir. His smirk widened. Things were falling into place. Time for the final few steps. "Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die." - Shakespeare |
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| © Copyright 2001 Adam Kamerer - All Rights Reserved | |||
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Sunshine
Administrator
Member Empyrean
since 1999-06-25
Posts 63354Listening to every heart |
Let me get this straight. The little Lady is only five? Quite a vocabulary and thought process for that young age. Keep going. Looking forward to Chapter 4. |
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Kosetsu Member
since 2001-03-10
Posts 450Alabama, USA |
Eh..yeah...I seem to be making her act a lot older than she is...I'll probably go back and edit it, make her a couple years older. "Eat, drink, and be merry, for tomorrow we die." - Shakespeare |
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