Turbines slowly quieted down as the doors of the plane opened, warm air streaming in from the outside. The sun shone brightly through the cloudless sky, as if welcoming the princess with a gentle smile. The scent of spices carried through the wind from afar, a soft welcome embracing the mother and daughter in the lands of Zaralith.
The wind threaded through Celyne's hair, as she reached for her mothers hand. On the metal steps, leading down back on solid ground, Cecilia pulled a colorful scarf from her back, dotted with a variety of little stars. Kneeling down, she loosely wrapped it around her daughters head, tucking some hair behind her ear. On their way down the step, Celyne pulled the scarf down a little, struggling against it. With a pout and a puppy-eyed gaze at her mother, she protested, " Why have I got to wear this, Mama?"
Cecilia squeezed her daughters hand, and quickly pulled the scarf back up by just a notch, throwing the remains of it across this little girls shoulder. " It's a custom here, and it will protect your head from the sun. And it even matches with your dress. Now hush you."
Celyne didn't share the same view, she hated the color of this silly white dress, pink ribbons adorning it. She wished she could just wear a pair of trousers like her mother. Once she grows up she won't be forced to, Celyne thought. Although, she still felt pretty with the scarf. Okay, she'll let it slide this time.
Leaving the airport after all the effortless controls and simple baggage claim, Cecilia quickly spotted Sohails chauffeur, waiting for them. She lifted Celyne in the children's seat, buckling her up. As she sat down, the woman hastily greeted him. The chauffeur chuckled as he saw the queen struggling with her own seatbelt, "To the outskirts of Porto Cresht, I presume?"
Finishing her fight with the seatbelt, Cecilia nodded. " Outskirts of Porto Cresht, to the kings residence, please," she leaned back, relaxing in the seat as she looked outside the window. Palm trees lined by the street, the faint noise of crashing waves at the nearby shore reaching their ears. Its been a while since she last was in Zaralith, Sohail and Soraya must've grown up to be smart young children, youth blooming like delicate, white flowers. Looking to her side, she saw her Daughter having stolen her sunglasses, posing like a model. Unfortunately, those glasses were just a little too big, slipping off her nose slowly.
Celyne squirmed as her mother poked her side, and reclaimed the stolen sunglasses, setting them back atop her own head. Cecilia chuckled as the child pouted, and softly stroked her shoulder to comfort her, yet Celyne just huffed, looking out the window. Her demeanor softened, as she was admiring the beautiful landscape; the lush, green plants, colorful flowers woven in them. The untamed sea, reflecting the sun, and the golden sand, all beneath the faint fabric of clouds lacing through the bright sky. Celyne didn't notice her jaw lowering as if it had a mind of its own, a quiet "Woah" escaping her, much to her mothers amusement. This was a new world compared to the lackluster castle she grew up in.
The chauffeur slowed down at a red light, wheels slowing down into a gentle halt, as he looked into the back of the car, where mother and child sat. "Miss, we should reach our destination in about five to ten minutes, depending on the traffic," he told the queen with a polite smile. She nodded, returning the courtesy. Celyne was kicking her feet, looking at her mother as if a thousand questions were about to bubble out of her, likely about the lands and people.
Cecilia grinned mischievously, "what is it, Celyne? You want to go swimming later? Have you packed your swimsuit?" She teased her daughter, watching her shake her head. "Cause you wanted to be a responsible big girl and pack your own suitcase," the woman leaned in closer, whispering now, "so I didn't bring yours."
Celyne gasped, pulling her hands to cover her mouth. She stammered, "I-I didn't bring mine! Mama, you must have..." She didn't finish her sentence, trailing off into utter disbelief. To her mother, this shock was pure gold. She chuckled, kissing her daughters forehead and petting her head, to soothe her distress. Though this was still amusing to her mother.
YOU ARE READING
Crescent Shaped Soul - Amethyst of Deception
FantasiA curse, passed down from generation to generation, ending up in the royal family after nearly 600 years. A king that separated his daughters, their tragic reunion, all while the witch that cursed them is near them, not as a foe but friend
