[FANFICTION / ONGOING]
When the once peaceful city of London is overtaken by the dangers of the Second World War, a naïve, young Rose must find ways to distract herself from the constant worries of her father's welfare in the war. Whether it...
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"You look unusually tired today, Rosie," Queen Susan commented when her lady curled and styled her long, dark hair. She had been sitting on the cushioned stool in front of her vanity, watching how Lady Rose scampered in and out of the bedroom in an unusually slow pace than most days.
The lady's wavy brown locks weren't styled, and just like Susan's royal brother, dark bags would hang under her eyes; if it weren't for the miracle that was the makeup's doing. She had been wearing a golden day gown, and her brown coat had tossed over an abandoned chair, rather messily than neatly folded as Rose usually had it. The events of the previous night had caused the cheerful lady to be rather tired, and she had been certain that Edmund was feeling the exact same way; like an illness had overtaken them.
Susan sighed faintly and turned around on the stool to take a good look at her lady's dainty frame carrying bottles of fragrances from the lavatory room. "Ro, did you sleep well at all?"
"Yes," Rose lied, briefly smiling in the queen's direction before scampering to the wide glass window and drawing the golden curtains open in order to let the dim, gray sky's light flood in the opaque quarters. Just as she had expected, Edmund Pevensie had not been training like he usually did, thus, confirming her suspicions; he had indeed been feeling the same way she had. Instead, the general was the one training a group of young soldiers with an assortment of weapons as if it were a history lesson.
"Rose?" the queen called after seconds of dull silence. She strolled from the vanity and moved to stand next to her lady, placing a comforting hand on her forearm. "Are you alright?"
She watched the yards intently. "Yes, yes, my queen," Rose told her a little too quickly. Susan brought her hands up to her lady's forehead to search for any sign of sickness, but Rose gently whisked her arms away, still claiming she was feeling well.
Susan had still been hesitant to let her Lady head down to breakfast in that state, but her joyful features and smiles seemed to have swayed the queen away from the theory she had indeed been ill. Turns out, being a good liar had indeed served her well.
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When the Valiant Queen had joined the queen and her lady in her sleeping quarters, the three had strolled arm-in-arm all the way to the Dining-Hall in a mess of giggles and smiles.
Fortunately, Lucy had convinced her sister's Lady to prepare her for breakfast, as she had merely been wearing a dull gown, and her locks had barely been brushed due to her mysterious sickness, or as Susan had called it that chilly morning. The youngest queen had even joked that she had been looking just like Edmund Pevensie had looked on Saturday mornings back in England; therefore, causing the young girls to erupt in loud laughters, never stopping despite the ache from the laughter in their stomachs.
When the three young girls had waltzed in the room, no longer arm-in-arm, young-looking Rose's eyes wandered towards the lone figure of Edmund, and just like she had looked several minutes before, he was slumping back on his chair. Dark bags had hung under his dark brown eyes, and his cheek rested upon his hand, his gaze rooted to his golden goblet filled with pumpkin juice he had yet to try.
It seemed as if both of them had not gotten much sleep, and Rose Lovell wondered what had been the reason for him to be wandering about in the darkened hallways so late at night. Edmund had explained to her, but the determined lady had had an inkling that it was not what he had told her.
To the young girls' surprise, the young soldier, Alistair Ashford, had joined them for breakfast that morning. He had been seating to Edmund's left, and his features lit up when the joyous Lady had come in the room. He gestured the seat next to him, and Rose, happily as ever, took a seat next to the soldier.
Alistair had leaned in close enough to whisper in Rose's ear. "Good morning, Ro." He placed the napkin on his lap as if that was what he had been doing, instead of whispering pleasantries in her ear.
"Good morning," Rose smiled in return, and then had stuffed her plate with the delicacies and the grand assortments of dishes that had been served moments before. "I'm glad you joined us, Al."
Alistair had briefly smiled, and Edmund had turned to glance at the pair when he had heard them mumbling to themselves. He took a sip from his golden goblet and tore his gaze away from them with a roll of his eyes.
"Would you join me for a stroll around the gardens this afternoon?" Alistair proposed. "Say, five o' clock?"
Hope swelled up in her eyes and her small smile grew to a full one as her cheeks had begun to get tainted with a light pink. She turned away for a second before nodding and accepting with her usual charming smile. The young soldier had flushed when the lady accepted, but as oblivious as ever, she did not take notice that a rosy color had tainted both of their cheeks.
And as if broken out of her fantastical daydream, the High King cleared his throat rather loudly, making everyone's heads snap up from their half-eaten plates and turn to him with interest.
"I'd like to say something," Peter started, his voice somewhat lowered. "Last night Edmund here encountered a Minotaur in the darkest parts of the southwest wing–" Both his sisters gasped at this, and the young soldier's cheeks, in one of the farthest corners of the table, began to drain from the light pink blush that once coated his skin.
Rose had failed swallow the knot that had formed in her throat. So, she took her water-filled goblet and promptly chugged it to help swallow that forceful knot. When she had done so, she let out a faint hiccup. Their heads all turned to her, instead, and the Gentle's Lady had not been able to do anything but to chuckle nervously until the warmth from her cheeks seized. "Pardon me," she said, her voice low as she stared at her overstuffed plate of food.
Peter smiled at that, and let the matter go. "As I was saying, we do not know how the Minotaur got inside the castle, since this castle is protected by the most skilled guardsmen and soldiers. However, we must keep a watchful eye out and never go without company to the darkest parts of the castle. We do not know what lurks.
"At least,not until we find a solution with the White Witch's remaining followers. Understood?" The Just King had paled when the name of the treacherous woman left his brother's lips. He forced himself not to look up when his siblings briefly glanced in his direction. Not even once.
Lucy and Susan had reluctantly nodded and agreed, and Edmund on the other hand, had not even agreed at all; and neither did the pair sitting at the edge of the dining table, instead, they had shared an uneasy glance at the High King's words.
"I will call a meeting that all of us must attend." The High King had fixated an appointed look on the three adolescentes sitting to his left with their heads hung low. When neither of them looked up, he announced his depart and took his coat from behind the elegant chair. "I will excuse myself now. I'll be expecting you all in the meeting room at three on the dot." And with nothing more, the High King strolled out of the Dining-Hall swiftly, leaving the rest to finish their meals in utter silence.
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AUTHOR'S NOTE Thank you for reading!
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