Stars coruscated like glass in the opalescent night sky. Waning wisps of silver cloud drifted across the black blanket that fell over the earth, and silence enshrouded the town. Cobblestone paths paved the way through the small kingdom of Brightport.
Horses had been put to sleep in their stables, shops and trading posts had been closed down, and the only sound that was heard for miles was the steady lap of the flag in the sky, the light footsteps of guards patrolling the tiered kingdom, and the faint creak of their lanterns. In the midst of the barren streets, a figure made a posthaste dash out of a wood-and-brick corner stall. The metal-bound planked door made an earsplitting creak as it was flung open, and the silhouette fled onto the streets. A nearby stack of hay bales mere inches away from a lamppost had a beautiful black Friesian horse grazing on them, its extraordinary wavy tail lashing contently as it nibbled on the flaxen stands of fodder.
Skidding to a stop under the aureate milky lamplight, the figure's attractive feminine physique glowed. The woman wore a tight-knitted, charcoal-black cloak with a hood covering her face. Her pants were woolly and a dark grey, and the straw-woven yellowish basket hooked around her forearm was stocked with creamy-textured golden corn cobs, crisply gleaming in the pale light.
The woman's' beautiful pale, peach-coloured hands rose up and gently caressed her hood, pulling it down off of her head and resting it on her shoulders. The girl looked young, around eighteen.
She had coal-black eyes and tangly, wavy raven hair intertwined with hay and the tips of corncobs. It fell down to the upper half of her back. Her eyebrows were sleek and bushy, with clear skin and split bangs.
The mysterious woman had unorthodox thick, black triangular markings on her cheeks, neck and arms. The rest of her body wasn't visible, but they looked surprisingly natural. She stood basking in the lamplight for a moment before the sound of quiet neighing, hoovesteps and the soft grate of a lantern broke the silence. The damsel's eyes flashed with wariness, and she rested her hands on the buttons on her cloak lining her chest to her waist. The bottom part of the cloak seemed to fall around her feet like a swarm of black cloth, and she hesitated before unbuttoning the robe and letting it fall to the ground.
Underneath, she wore a curly lavender top with short, puffy sleeves, a dark violet corset and shorts, and high-fitted velvet boots.
Black markings covered her forearms and thighs. Sliding the basket down from her forearm to her fingers, grasping it firmly, she hurried over to the horse. Stroking it's muzzle, she tapped her foot eagerly as the creature whinnied and raised it's head.
The woman grunted, hopping onto the horses back and patting it's neck with her free hand. "Hyah!" She yelled. The horse neighed, rearing up on it's hind legs and shaking roughly. It bent it's head down and continued chewing on the straw.
"You! Stop right there!" The girl turned her head to look at a tall, handsome male with scruffy brown hair, sky blue eyes and tan skin approaching rapidly on a light brown Clydesdale horse.
He wore a cornflower blue jacket with a sweaty white top and a brown leather satchel. The Clydesdale was galloping towards the female. "C'mon, Nightfire!" With a yell, she lightly kicked the horses' torso, and sent it into motion.
The chase was on.
Spinning around, Nightfire took off in the opposite direction on the cobble path. The girl looked behind her, to see the man still fast on the Clydesdale. "Aphmau! Stop running!" He yelled.
"Men," Aphmau muttered, turning back to face the road. She knew she obviously couldn't lead the man back to her hideout - it was bad enough he already saw her without her hooded disguise - and squinted into the distance. A cold gush of relief rippled through her and she relaxed when she saw a fork in the cobblestone road. The all-too familiar fork. The right path led to the castle, the left path led to the mountains, sailers' docks, ocean and hunting grounds - where she had her humble abode tucked safely away - and the middle path, the one she was galloping away on at the moment, led into the town and shops.
As she approached the fork, however, Aphmau nudged the horses' torso, slowing it to a brisk trot. Eventually, the horse slowed to a stop, hoofing the ground, and Aphmau stared respectfully ahead as the man on the Clydesdale caught up with her. "Easy, girl." The man whispered to his horse as he slipped off it. "Easy." He stood defiantly in front of Aphmau, clearing his throat.
"You're in trouble," the man said flatly.
"How do you know my name?" She replied calmly.
"That doesn't matter. You're coming with me."
"I just asked a question."
The man growled, lurching forwards and clamping his hand firmly around Aphmau's wrist. Aphmau let out a cry as the boy yanked her off the horse forcefully.
"Don't touch me!" Aphmau tugged her arm but to no avail was she able to release the mans' grip.
"Who the hell do you think you are?" She demanded. The male let go, his eyes flashing with wariness and curiosity. "Oh, you don't know me?" He released his grip, narrowing his eyes and stuffing his hands into his pockets.
"Lawrence," he said finally. "Lawrence Presscot."
Aphmau folded her arms across her chest. Lawrence sighed. "Princess- "
Aphmau tensed. "Don't." She said in a waring tone.
Lawrence rolled his eyes. "Fine. Whatever. Aphmau, Miss Shalashaska, Princess, Daughter Of The Queen -" he stopped and glanced over at the horse. "Friesian, I don't give a damn. But just because you're royalty doesn't mean you can steal. So hand me the basket and get on the horse." Quickly realizing his mistake, he added, "my horse."
Accepting her fate, Aphmau stared into the beautiful blue eyes of the man. Lawrence's gaze softened, staring wistfully back. Then suddenly, Aphmau thrust the basket sharply into his gut, turned around, and climbed onto the front of the Clydesdale.
"If you think every 'thief' that bats her eyelashes atcha is gonna fall for you, then by the time you're fifty you ain't gonna have your first kiss." Lawrence glared.
"Back. Of. The. Damn. Horse," Lawrence stalked over, wincing from the basket in his gut and grasping the flaxen corn-carrier with a fist. Aphmau smirked, shifting to the rear of the Clydesdale.
Wether or not Lawrence was impressed or enraged by the raven-haired princess' guts was a mystery.
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I- No. I'm so sorry. The last little bit of this chapter was so sloppy. The rest of the book will be better, I promise. I felt I was using too MUCH detail in the first half, then not enough in the second half, then everything just went to hell.
I'm not one of those authors who says 'Sorry this chapter was short, I was in a coma blah blah blah dog died blah blah blah got robbed by Elmo'..
I am busy with school however so sorry if this note was your stereotypical A/N. -3-
Anyway, second chapter'll be posted tmrw or so. I do have a date tmrw so prolly around 8pm EST.
Also, Larmau? Yes or no?
YOU ARE READING
Scarlet Stars // Vol. 1
Action"𝕿𝖍𝖊𝖞 𝖜𝖆𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖉 𝖆 𝖕𝖗𝖎𝖓𝖈𝖊𝖘𝖘. 𝕾𝖍𝖊 𝖌𝖆𝖛𝖊 𝖙𝖍𝖊𝖒 𝖆 𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖓." The black-haired man narrowed his eyes downward at the sleek silver blade softly grazing his throat. A mere gulp could enhance the dagger and pierce his skin, thoug...
