ione 9th installmentHeel clicking against the stone step, Ione paused halfway up the staircase. The thin window on her right, revealed an overlook of the side courtyard. Where the thatched roof of the stables cast long dark shadows onto the dusty yard in the midday sun. Stable boys and the blacksmith were busy at their work, grooming horses and hammering metal. But what caught her attention, was the dapple gray steed, neighing and stomping at the dirt. Its long, slate gray mane and white nose marked him unmistakably as Rickard Grimhilt's, and he was being saddled hastily. He's leaving! If he left now, her father would not be able to speak with him about the thief until he returned, and by that time Goodthief could be beyond reach. Without another thought, the princess turned on her heel, pushing past Pane in a rush no lady should pursue. Ignoring the girls startled cry after her. Skipping three steps at a time she flew back down the stairs. Multiple flights of steps downed, servants passed, and hal
ione 8th installmentGET OUT! He shook with a start. The noise and aromas of the tavern rushing in around him, bringing him back to reality.
“Get out!” Across the table, his comrades were fighting over a bench. “Out of my seat!” one of them shouted, laughing.
He let out a sigh, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease slightly. His escape from the Princess's chambers had been a little more than harrowing, and was finding himself a bit more jumpy than he cared to admit.
He felt himself flinch, at the sudden close proximity of the voice. It was Armod. Standing before him with a concerned expression etched into his youthful face. “Yes, w-what, is it?”
The young man stood straighter, folding his arms across his narrow chest. “You've been staring into space for nigh an hour. You haven't even touched your food!”
Sigurd glanced back to the table, finding the dinner plate he'd forgotten about. “
ione 7th installmentLaced taught in a lapis-blue velvet gown, Ione flew down the one-hundred and twenty-five steps from her tower chamber, to the third level of the palace. Black silk trim, skimming the lacquered wood floor, as she traveled through the long, narrow, back hallways. Past personal chambers, lavatories and private studies, tall bright windows, and countless gilded sconces. The upcoming door to Sir Aquis's chamber, one of her Father's advisers, swung open. But she did not wane in her brisk pace, raising her arm so that when her palm met the door, she pushed it back, out of her way.
“Your Highness!!” Squeaked a maid, as she jumped back from the doorway.
“Sorry!” She heard Pane breathlessly offer. The poor girl no doubt running to keep up with her long strides. One more flight of stairs, and she reached the second level. Following the paths of two back hallways before she pushed through a “servant door” into the main hall
ione 6th installmentAllow me. He said it so easily. As if she could just up and abandon everything, as if her place here meant nothing. Simmering coals of emotion turned in her gut. How could he even begin to assume she would accept such an offer? How dare he assume she needed rescuing!
“Do you even know of whom you speak to?” She spat through clenched teeth, feeling specks of hot saliva hit her cheek. Ione turned her gaze up to the man who held her to the floor. Watching a reaction of alarm pass briefly over his features. “I am not some lovesick dairy maid, free to walk away from her troubles!” She felt her veins grow taught as her muscles drew strength, empowering her to overpower his own. Suddenly his weight dissipated, he was not but a feather, and she was solid steel. His eyes grew wide, as she simply lifted her arms up from under his grasp. His mouth gaped, as she began to sit up before him, her face now inches from his.
ione 5th installmentThey say the eyes are the window to the soul. If that was true, than this princess's soul had been sold into hell. Pupils that grew slanted like a cats, were so black light could not reflect. Rims coated in gold that bled in crimson veins over bronze crystal irises. They were ablaze, under the shadow of her brow, like topaz set on fire. Green flecks shimmered across her flesh, just for a moment, in the wavering candlelight. Breath growing heavy, blew sweltering hot against his face and carried an alarmingly familiar scent. That unforgettable chalky, metallic smell of something burning. Of sulfur. The hair on the nape of his neck stood on end as a dark, electric mist fell on the air. His gut lurched at the dawning of a reality. “My god...”
She stood, pressed against the door as if an invisible force was holding her there. Face ashen, mouth agape. Hands opening and closing, as if trying to grasp the air her lungs stopped breathing. Eyes flickering, like a hungry new flame. Hi
ione ~5th installment PREVIEWThey say the eyes are the window to the soul. If that was true, than this princess's soul had been sold into hell. Pupils, slanted like a cats, were so black light could not reflect. Rims coated in gold that bled into crimson veins over bronze crystal irises. They were ablaze, under the shadow of her brow, like topaz set on fire. Green flecks shimmered across her flesh, just for a moment, in the wavering candlelight. Breath growing heavy, blew sweltering hot against his face and carried an alarmingly familiar scent. That unforgettable chalky, metallic smell of something burning. Of sulfur.
The hair on the nape of his neck stood on end as a dark, electric mist fell on the air. His gut lurched at the dawning of an impossible reality.
ione 4th installmentA matching set of emeralds pierced through her guard, sending a shiver of vulnerability down her spine. It went straight to her gut, mixing in with the toxic juices of fear and hurt. Causing a chemical signal to pulse through her veins, up through her nerves, setting them into action. Her hand raising in reaction, and colliding against his face as a result. Consequently, the man staggered back, allowing her a chance to evacuate his reach. In this moment of freedom, she reached for the pillow at the head of her bed, pulling the dagger out from underneath. As the Mercenary turned back to face her, she held the point of the blade firmly under his chin. Slowly, he raised his hands, but remained where he stood.
“Either way, you are a threat to me.” She breathed through clenched teeth, feeling hot bile rise in her throat. The man, whose face was now holding a tight-lipped expression, turned his hands slightly inwards in a gesture of innocence, or compliance. She took advant