Stelsa, the girl crafted from the broken leftovers from the Gods, is far from the expectations of a normal lady. Her father, Aaeron Meryls, and her uncles sought to train her in the way of the blade. Many whisper about her origin - is she bastard li...
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HAIR SPUN TOGETHER like silk creating a masterpiece — well, Aba's masterpiece. Stelsa sat patiently in the wooden chair as Aba gently tugged the strands of her dark hair together, forming tiny braids that haloed around her head like a crown, smoothing down the rest of her hair. Two strands tickled Stelsa's cheeks, having been left out of the tiny braids. In the silence, Stelsa found herself pressing her thumb against palm so hard she thought a hole would form beneath her touch. Aba was humming a soft tune as she skillfully twisted the hair together — something that Stelsa found oddly soothing. Why was she so...?
"This week has been quite exciting." Aba threw out. Stelsa felt her shift between her two feet.
"I am ready for it to be over." Stelsa admits, swallowing down the feeling raining on her heart, "The ladies of court are rather insufferable." Those words make Aba giggle as she moves around the chair to look at Stelsa.
"That we can agree on, little wolf." Aba's green eyes filled with a warmth, similar to a fire sparking to life, as she stared down at Stelsa. The warmth vibrates in Stelsa's bones, warming her flesh, "You look..." Aba trails off, placing a hand on her hip and shifting. She seemed to be in deep consideration, looking over Stelsa who sat in the chair — waiting for her critique.
Stelsa raises a dark brow, "..That bad?" Stelsa teased, forcing a small smile on her lips as Aba's gaze softened. The woman reached forward, her hands cupping Stelsa's face between her two palms. Aba's thumbs brushed against the flesh of her cheeks.
"No." Aba breathed out, "You look... indescribable, little wolf." Stelsa closed her eyes and leaned into Aba's warm palms, welcoming the endearing touch. It eased the storm brewing in her heart for a moment, or at least provided her shelter from the onslaught of rain she had dealt with all day. Regardless, Aba pulled her hands away far too soon for Stelsa's liking. The girl would prefer to stay within the warmth and love Aba provided her — one she imagined her mother would have provided as Rhaenyra and Aba had done, "Take a look at yourself." Stesa opened her eyes in time to watch Aba hold up the small mirror between her hands, aiming it towards Stelsa where she sat.
The blue fabric from the dress seemed to pull the blue in her eyes out — almost blending the two of them together. Stelsa thought for a moment that the dress had dyed her eyes to match so perfectly. Her dark hair laid behind her shoulders neatly, not a single strand misplaced thanks to Aba. A tiny flush took over Stelsa's pale cheeks — bringing life back to her the more she observed herself. Stelsa was not one to compare herself to the paintings she had seen around the keep, but for a moment she dared to think herself comparable to some of the pieces. It was the most put together Stelsa could recall ever being.
"-Don't you look beautiful." Stelsa turns at the voice of her uncle, noting that her father stood behind him as they entered the room. Both adorned their armor but wore no helmet. Stelsa found it funny how different the two of them looked, yet they acted as though they were brothers. Her father moved around her uncle to come stand before her, his dark eyes scanning over her face for a moment. Stelsa felt the urge to look away from his struncizing gaze, suddenly questioning if something was amiss to gain such attention.
