An assassination.
A monarchy.
A depriving love.
Augustine amongst her crew ride along a quest. A quest to assassinating a prince.
A hazardous menacing game that brings forth feelings blurred by lines of what is and what isn't.
Only to have the large...
Not even an hour passes by, and the maids barge in on me to wake me up and serve breakfast.
"Please! Just 5 more minutes" I whine while taking cover, from the blinding sunlight, under the sheets.
"My lady, I'm afraid it's cleaning day, and all must evacuate their rooms right after beeakfast" one of the maids speak up while bowing her head and gracefully smiling.
Why today? I think to myself as I unwillingly step out of the bed.
Luckily, the breakfast is just divine. We were served French toast this morning. It was draped with some sort of syrup, strawberries and was sprinkled with powdered sugar. Absolutely delightful.
I start getting ready for the day. I opt for a more simpler dress today. It's a beautiful strapped amethyst one with elegant flowers on it and a mesh bodice.
⥞✦⥟
I decided to go to the library.
I sit by a an isolated corner, reading a random book I've picked up about Astronomy. I'm so fascinated by this book. It's filled with deatiled information, from the things I've wondered about, to the ones I haven't even thought of.
Finally, I reach the chapter about what fascinates me most, Constellations.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
I practically memorize that chapter from the amount of times I've reread it. The map I've had back home is no way near this detailed.
As I go through the southern hemisphere constellations, I spot Corvus.
Corvus was my mom's favourite. She says it reminds her of me. She even gifted me a necklace of that constellation, that I, till this day, haven't taken off.
I quickly close the book at the sight of a tear thudding into it's pages. Knowing that I won't be able to stop crying once I start.
I haven't yet gotten over my parents' so called death. I don't think I have even let myself once cry about it. Everytime I sense tears forming, I instantly distract myself with something else.
Everyone else has told me they're dead. And I suppose at this point, it really is foolish to think that under some miracle, they might possibly be still alive. I can't say that I believe that, but I don't yet want to accept that they're dead. I keep clinging into that figmental theory, hoping that some day it turns out to be real.
