𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐆𝐄 | 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍 | (𝟏)

𝒊𝒗 | 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒐𝒊𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒆𝒅 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒄𝒆

𝐒𝐎𝐍𝐆: 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐧𝐜𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐛𝐲 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐒𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

...✵...

🐉 | 𝐂𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐀 | 🐉

I walked down the dimly lit hall, the basket of garnets resting against my hip, their weight a comforting reminder of my duty to the Vestalis. Beside me, Catherine chatted animatedly, her excitement evident in her voice.

"There have never been so many people in the castle," she said.

I smiled as I walked with the empty basket in my arms, my steps echoing softly against the stone floors. The castle was a flurry of activity, with servants from both Camelot and Mercia bustling about, preparing for the grand banquet.

It was a hopeful sight that promised peace and unity between our two kingdoms.

As I moved through the halls, I couldn't help but admire the seamless collaboration between the servants. Mercian cooks exchanged recipes with Camelot's finest, and decorators from both lands worked side by side, hanging garlands and setting tables. The aroma of roasting meat and freshly baked bread wafted through the air, mingling with the scent of fresh flowers arranged in elaborate centerpieces.

Despite the cheerful bustle, a lingering tension weighed on my shoulders. The closer the banquet approached, the more the air seemed to crackle with unease. It was as if the castle held its breath, waiting for something to go wrong. My smile wavered as I noticed the anxious glances between the servants and the hurried whispers that ceased as I passed.

I paused momentarily, resting the basket against my hip, and took in the scene around me. The grand hall was nearly unrecognizable, transformed into a vision of elegance and splendor. Long tables draped in rich fabrics were adorned with golden candelabras and fine china. The walls were decorated with tapestries depicting scenes of unity and prosperity.

"Carena," Catherine's voice broke through my thoughts. "What will you wear to the banquet?"

I glanced down at my pale purple serving dress, the color of the House of Vestalis. The fabric was worn but clean, a symbol of my station and loyalty.

"I'll wear what I always wear," I replied, rubbing the material between my fingers.

Catherine touched her chin thoughtfully, a small smile playing on her lips. "How about blue?"

I stopped before the steps to the kitchen and washroom, the basket resting against my stomach.

"I don't know," I said hesitantly.

Catherine's hand grabbed my arm, her grip firm but gentle. "I have the perfect thing," she declared, her smile widening.

I opened my mouth to protest, but before I could utter a word, Catherine lifted her red skirt and dashed down the hall, weaving through the other servants with practiced ease. Her laughter echoed off the stone walls, a bright contrast to the castle's somber mood.