To Hell And Back | Granevere | Edited

Chapter One-Hundred-Eleven

The sun was setting over the horizon. In just a few hours, the Paxleys would arrive. Servants were walking back and forth, preparing every room where the esteemed guests would be staying for the whole evening.

The head of house, Lord Baroque, was still in the courtyard, having a quick fencing fight with his only son, Lancelot. Being the men of the family, they were able to do whatever they please. Meanwhile the Lord's wife was busy supervising in the dining hall. From altering decorations to furniture settings to tasting and deciding the four course dinner.

There seemed to only be three people in the castle whose stress levels weren't on the roof, and one of them was the youngest of the Baroques.

Five-year-old Guinevere ran as impish as ever down the romantic hallways of the palace. Servants who pass by her would tell her to slow down while the others prayed she would turn out alright. After all, even though she might not be aware of it, her wellbeing was important than a commoner, being a main branch member of a royal magic family.

The redhead was heading to the courtyard, thinking of joining her father and brother and fence with them while their guests still haven't appeared.

After skipping down a steep set of stairs, she turns around a corner and ends up colliding her head against another.

"Ow!" Both of her and the person she collided with exclaimed in unison.

Touching on the spot on her forehead where it was throbbing of pain, she glares at the person in front of her. "Hey, watch where you're going!"

"A-Apologies, milady," the underaged servant said, bowing briefly before walking away and heading towards the dining hall.

Guinevere chases after young boy, throwing her hands onto his shoulders and spinning him around. He gives her a frightened look.

"You look familiar," Guinevere hummed pensively. "Have we met before?"

"I don't think so, Your Highness."

"You know that I am not a legitimate princess," she chuckled.

"You're not? My apologies again for miscalling you."

"I've never seen you here before. Are you new?"

"Yeah," the boy says, shrugging.

"Granger!" A female servant approaches the two chatting children. Out of the blue, she pushes the boy roughly on his back. "Didn't I told you to go get the plates? Misses Baroque is getting infuriated. How are you going to prove to her that you belong to work here permanently, huh, kid?!"

"Don't call him that," Guinevere defended.

The female servant gives her what is supposedly an obedient smile. "I'm sorry, Lady Guinevere, for I didn't see you there!"

"I-I must go now, milady," the boy said, walking away. Bearing the female servant no mind, Guinevere follows him. "Please don't follow me. I can't handle another beating from them-"

"But you haven't even told me your name yet."

"M-My name?"

"Yes, everyone has a name. I'm guessing your name is Granger, isn't it?"

"It is."

"Then Granger, can we be friends from now on?"

"It's not right for someone like me to be as fortunate enough to be a friend to someone like you. You're my master. You should know the rules yourself, milady."

"I know the rules," Guinevere answered confidently. He turns around but she spins him back for the second time. "And I'm not afraid to break them," She added, smirking.