Finally, the hour comes.
The moon and stars are nowhere. Just
Pitch black and fog.
Nothing is heard
Except for the purr
Of the frigid wind,
The rustle
Of the leaves, and
The faint clicks down the
Spiral staircase
Of the palace,
Perhaps
By a pair of shoes.
Eventually,
The staircase yawns
Into the abyss
Of the first story.
A shadow darts past
The castle's long and slender
Glass windows.
There is no telling
Whose shadow it is,
Although there are hints
Of red tresses,
And there are several
People with red tresses
In the fortress.
A short while passes.
A fist drums
Against a short, wooden door
At the end of the corridor,
Most gently and patiently.
It opens and closes automatically,
Revealing a room
With a white bed for one,
A wooden cabinet, chair,
And table
With a basin, a pitcher,
And a stocky, black lamp
With a bright, white glow,
A small, shut, and blurry window
Near the ceiling,
Hints of steam in the wind,
And a figure with curly,
Golden hair and a silky,
Black robe,
On his knee,
With his head lowered,
Trembling ever so slightly.
He whispers,
"A pleasant evening,
Your Imperial Majesty.
Welcome home.
How are you feeling?
Are you weary
From the dragon campaign?
How is your body?
Does it hurt anywhere?
Also, please forgive me
For the state of my abode.
I did not expect...how may I be
Of service to you at this hour?"
YOU ARE READING
Classified (COMPLETED)
RomansaShe is undoubtedly one of the most memorable historical figures in her empire. During her time, she had the loveliest face, possessed the most impressive prowess in battle, donned the finest dresses, wore the most jewelry, garnered the most friends...
