Copyright 2011 Lindsay Covington
Chapter Seven
I swirled my finger around above my head and brought it to an end in a graceful arc. Invisible to all, but myself, was my imaginary drawing of an owl. Were it on paper, it’s wise eyes would have stared at me with the pain of knowledge, much of which I was not privy to.
I let my hand drop down to rest on my chest, letting the owl disappear from my mind’s eye.
In my haste to get away from Tristan and everyone else in this place, I hadn’t put much thought about what I would do with myself once locked in my room. Three times a day, for the past three days some sort of meal would appear outside my door, no one would show up, I’d just find the food sitting there on the floor of the stone corridor.
My eyes gazed lazily about the room, from its high ceilings, to its blanket covered windows, it looked quite a bit different than it had when I’d first shown up in...well...this place. I had fast grown tired of the never-ending light coming from the huge windows in my room, turns out, the sun only set for a grand total of three hours each night, so I’d stolen the sheets and blankets from my bed and hung them up to cover the windows. I didn’t need the sheets anyways, it was hot enough without the light.
Speaking of the light, I would call it sunlight, but there was no sun that I could find in the sky. I’d spent hours fruitlessly searching the sky for the source of light and energy for this place, but had only ended up staring at a seemingly never-ending blue sky, not a cloud broke it up, it was just a bright, solid blue.
Other than the darker light in the room, everything glimmered with the light sheen of a thin layer of ice that coated the room. My best guess was: that without the light to burn off the cold that apparently ‘radiated’ from my body, the chill air had become to much for the heat to battle in this enclosed space.
Trust me, it’s completely fine with me. The nearly unbearable heat in the room had cooled to a tolerable temperature. That, and, for whatever reason, the ice surrounding me comforted me to some level.
Stiffly, I got up and stretched out my aching muscles from laying down too long. A second later I was over next to one of the great window columns with a hand resting on the edge of a sheet that kept the light out of the room. I flicked the corner of the sheet back and light flooded the room, momentarily stunning me with it’s brightness.
After my eyes had adjusted, I peered through the thin opening I’d created out to the world below me. It was the same view that I’d looked out onto, sprawling green fields of flowers and green grasses leading into a sort of tropical rainforest off in the distance. Groups of people still flitted about the small courtyard and patio two floors below me, unaware of my eyes watching them.
A familiar, wine red head came into sight as he walked out onto the courtyard below. Girls covered in vines and flowers with bluebirds and sparrows darting between them and through their hair approached Tristan. He seemed to be deep in thought with his head bowed and nearly passed them by.
“Your Highness!” A brunette clothed in a pleasant spring green called out to him. He paused and looked up at them.
“Yes?” He asked gruffly, the girl’s smile immediately disappeared from her face and a tear welled in the corner of her eye. I blinked, somewhat surprised that I could see so clearly from the distance away from them I was at. My goodness, these people need to get a handle on their emotions! I thought to myself.
A curvy blonde rolled her eyes when she thought no one was looking and stepped in front of the brunette so she was hardly half a foot away from Tristan, “Your Highness.” She purred, a coy smile graced her lips.
YOU ARE READING
Tears of Ice (Hold)
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