𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐭 | Neuvillette

ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱɪɴɢ ʀɪᴠᴇʀꜱ

ONE

IN THE SERENE embrace of his opulent bedroom, Neuvillette stirred from his slumber. Long strands of his pristine white hair cascaded like a silken waterfall across the expanse of his bed, an ethereal contrast to the deep azure of his bedding. His eyes fluttered open, welcoming the new day as the memories of the previous one gradually unfurled in his mind.

As he roused himself fully, his thoughts meandered towards (Y/n), her face brought forth with clarity. Sitting up, Neuvillette's gaze fixed upon the foot of his bed, where the intricate interplay of sunlight and shadow danced upon the plush carpet, seemingly mirroring the complexities of his thoughts.

Neuvillette, with a sigh of resignation, swiftly pushed aside the thoughts that had momentarily taken root in his mind. The responsibilities of his position left him little room for personal musings, and duty called with an unyielding grip.

He rose from his bed, his tall frame casting a regal silhouette as he shed his sleepwear and donned his customary attire. Every movement carried the grace of a man accustomed to the weight of his role. Once his transformation was complete, he made his way to the imposing double doors of his bedroom.

Pushing them open with a practiced hand, Neuvillette crossed the threshold into the hallway beyond. The doors swung shut behind him, sealing his sanctuary and echoing the finality of his departure. His footsteps, deliberate and measured, reverberated through the solemn corridor as he embarked on another day of upholding the law and ensuring justice prevailed in the city of Fontaine.

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Seated in the elegant dinette of his home, Neuvillette busied himself with the morning routine that provided a brief respite from his demanding responsibilities. A silver chalice, filled with pure water, stood before him. He sipped from it with meticulous care, savoring each sip with the precision of a practiced palate.

His attention shifted to a pile of envelopes spread out before him, each one bearing the weight of official correspondence. With a detached air, his gaze slid across the letters, skimming over the words that detailed the mundane affairs of Fontaine's administrative machinery.

However, a sudden shift in his demeanor caught the eye. Neuvillette's eyes, initially glossed over, now slightly widened as they alighted upon an envelope that stood out from the rest. An urgent note lay within, its contents a stark departure from the routine.

Deftly placing the silver chalice aside, he reached for the paper and unfolded it, his eyes scanning the words with intent focus. The message conveyed a message of unexpected reprieve — all court proceedings for the day had been canceled due to unforeseen circumstances.

Neuvillette leaned back in his chair, the realization settling in. A rare occurrence had unfolded before him — a day to himself, unburdened by the weight of protocol. It was a moment of respite, a pause in the unyielding march of time, and he couldn't help but entertain the notion of how to spend this unexpected gift of leisure.

And so, deciding to spend his unexpected free time wisely, Neuvillette resolved to head to his office at the imposing Palais Mermonia. It was an opportunity to catch up on tasks that often took a backseat to his court duties. With a sense of purpose, he made his way through the city's bustling streets, his thoughts already drifting towards the work he could accomplish in solitude.

Upon reaching his destination, he approached the grand doors of the Palais Mermonia, anticipation building within him. However, to his chagrin, he found the entrance firmly shut, standing as an impenetrable barrier to his plans.