Nightingale

Chapter III

P A R T   O N E

 Empress Nightingale

        The castle halls were saturated in various shades of white, gold, and red. Over the polished marble floors, a red carpet was rolled upon the grand stairway. The ceiling above held a grand painting, beautiful fluorescent hues depicting heaven and hell, angels and demons, and their world, the humans, that separated them. 

        (Y/N) followed silently behind the emperor, wringing her hands nervously. Ambrosius held his son's hand gently in his larger one, the same hands that were scarred with murder. Yet they were gentle when it came to Dimitri.

        Weaving through the gorgeous labyrinth of halls, Emperor Ambrosius finally appeared before a simple pair of white doors with an arched doorway. Creaking its doors open, the emperor reveals his son's bedroom. 

        Dimitri's dark navy floor contrasted the light blue wallpaper, covered with a decorative diamond-shaped repeating pattern. Several fairytale pictures hang along the walls, and a wall sconce was positioned on the opposite side of the room to his large bed. A white border runs along the perimeter of the room. At the far end is a large triangular window that protrudes out from the slanting roof of the castle. Underneath the window is a blue padded bench that runs the width of the window's base. Adjacent to his bed is a large fireplace that has a fireguard around its edge. Dimitri's toy chest lies by the side near the window.

        Dimitri releases his father's hand and leaps upon his bed. He drowned in the thick bed sheet and waited patiently by the mountain of pillows for Ambrosius and (Y/N). 

        (Y/N) stood awkwardly at the doorway, a part of her was tempted to leave. But once she noticed Dimitri's bright eyes glancing joyfully towards her, she felt her heart clench. The boy was too adorable for his own good. 

        The emperor proceeded to place the blanket over his son, tucking him in. "There," the emperor stated, "As promised, I placed you to sleep." Ambrosius runs a hand through his son's curls, brushing the strands out of his face.

        "Not yet!" Dimitri pouts.

        "Oh?" Ambrosius asks, amusement laced in his tone. "Whatever could you mean?" he questioned playfully.

        "Father, you're supposed to tell me a story!" Dimitri glared at his father with a huff. 

        A faint smile crept onto his full lips as he teasingly muttered, "That was not a part of the promise."

        Dimitri looked at his father in horror. 

        "I suppose I can make an exception," the emperor jested. He glances towards (Y/N), offering, "Perhaps Miss Heron can tell us a story?"

        His suggestive tone goes unnoticed by his son. The boy immediately jolts upright, a bright smile spreads across his lips. He gasps, "Will you tell us a story?" 

        (Y/N) felt herself internally grimace. She glanced towards the emperor and found his blue eyes transfixed upon her. A chill runs down her spine. It was evident that the emperor cared for his son, obvious by the murderous anger he displayed in the ballroom. She was determined to not be at the end of his fury, and if that meant having to tell him and his son a story then so be it.

        "Well..." (Y/N) hesitantly stepped forward, "Have you ever heard the story of the Man on the Moon?"

        "No," Dimitri shakes his head. The boy glances towards his father, expecting an answer from him as well.