Alanis thought letting go of her first love would be the most painful thing she would ever endure, but little did she know, the path the light goddess set before her, would be paved in heartaches beyond compare.
With her past and Berthold behind h...
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Ati Harei Royals Suites Morning
The morning light didn't wake Alanis, it was the sound of her barred door that shook her from her pleasant dreams. Her sleep-filled eyes opened and took in the many beams of light that streaked across her room. She closed her eyes and the door rattled again, this time with a knock.
"Harold," she said with a stiff groan. "If that's you, I wish you would leave. I'll see you later this afternoon." She rolled over and groaned again. Every muscle in her body ached, but in the familiar way she had learned to tolerate. That pain of her training would pass once she took her morning bath.
The only thing that had her tense this morning was Harold, the other night they had gotten into a little tiff when she failed to return in time for her meeting with the temple master, Tyrell. Harold was only annoyed that he had to go in her stead. He complained that the experience was painstakingly boring. Luckily, he managed to reschedule her meeting for today. Alanis saw it as some sort of payback, and it probably was. She deserved it, if it was as horrible as he claimed.
The door knocked again, this time a pleasant voice chimed with it, "Milady, I've come with a delivery."
She sat up, now that had earned her attention.
Can it be another letter from Berthold?
Alanis threw on her slippers and hobbled to the door, ignoring the nagging pain that ached in her calves as she walked.
The palace handmaiden at her door greeted her with a gorgeous bouquet. She stepped back and took a deep breath, taking with it the sweet fragrance of budding roses. There were a dozen of them, all white and bound in an exquisite silken ribbon. Who would send me something so beautiful, she wondered while she admired her gift.
"These were sent to me?" Alanis asked, her eyes lifted from the flowers to the young woman who held them.
Her honey-brown eyes lit up with her reply, "Yes, milady, they were most certainly sent to you."
"By who," Alanis hesitated, struck dumb by the display. "Who sent these?" she asked, while brushing a finger against the soft petals of a close rose. It was so smooth and delicate that she could picture the soft blossom melting under her warm touch.
The young woman smiled, blush spread across her pale cheek and she lowered her eyes as she replied, "They were from Lord Fulton, milady."
"Lord Fulton," Alanis repeated and the handmaiden nodded gingerly. "I wasn't expecting—" She stopped, her hand lowered from the blossom and she stepped away. Of course he'd do something like this, she knew he was interested in her, he made it clear the night he tried to console her by taking her hand.
"Do you not like them?" the lady asked, her voice was low and disappointed as she studied Alanis' gape.
"No," Alanis replied flatly. "I do not," she lied.
