(Please use the image attached above as a reference for Serena's outfit, Azrael's outfit as the General and the knight's uniform and of course all of them has a matching coat made of white fur. Art is not by me, all rights go with the artists: vvercna and BaddestBidden on Pinterest.)
The training sessions progressed smoothly, each day marked by Azrael's dedicated oversight. A whole month had passed since Clye's new knights began their rigorous regimen, and the fruits of their relentless efforts were becoming evident. The recruits were shaping into formidable defenders under Azrael's meticulous guidance.
Meanwhile, I granted Zion the freedom to roam within our boundaries, provided he did not venture beyond them. To my surprise, he ceased shadowing my every move, opting instead to discover his own pursuits. He gravitated towards the animal shelters nestled in the manor's expansive backyard or offered his assistance to Maurice, our seasoned groundskeeper. His newfound interests puzzled me; having spent his entire life in the esteemed confines of the Imperial family, I marveled at how swiftly he adapted to these unfamiliar tasks.
"How's the preparation going?" I inquired of Maurice, entrusted with overseeing the upcoming knighting ceremony. He nodded towards Zion, who approached with a stack of documents in hand.
"Everything is proceeding smoothly, though for this grand celebration, we'll need to source some ingredients from afar," Maurice replied thoughtfully, his gaze flickering over the detailed plans spread before him. "Very well. Please provide me with the list of necessary ingredients by day's end so we can ensure timely delivery," I instructed, jotting down a note in my ledger. Clye's modest population and our still-developing agricultural resources meant that meeting the demands of such an occasion required importing goods from Yeoris.
"Zion," I called out, and he responded promptly, stepping closer. "Kindly deliver this letter to Winston at the mill. He'll have a package for you. It's crucial that no one catches sight of its contents," I emphasized, aware of Zion's burgeoning rapport with the knights and keen to maintain the surprise. "As you wish," Zion acknowledged with a reassuring smile, his demeanor ever reliable. "Very well, you may both go," I dismissed them, watching as Maurice and Zion respectfully withdrew from my office.
Moments later, Azrael entered, hands discreetly behind his back, an air of secrecy about him. "Good afternoon, Azrael," I greeted casually, careful not to betray any curiosity about what he might be concealing.
"Look what I've brought for you," Azrael declared with evident excitement, his hands concealed behind his back. Intrigued, I glanced up from my work as he revealed a small, fluffy snow fox with a beaming grin.
"If you think I'm going to trade this adorable creature so you can have a meal made of Sir Benjamin, you're sorely mistaken," I chuckled, shaking my head at the absurdity of the notion. Azrael's expression momentarily shifted to mock offense at my jest. Nevertheless, he placed the snow fox gently in my hands and settled onto a nearby sofa. "Not even a thank you," he muttered playfully, feigning offense.
"Did you say something?" I asked, diverting my attention to the remarkably tame fox now nestled comfortably in my lap. Its fur was surprisingly warm and soft, eliciting an involuntary smile from me.
"What will you name him?" Azrael inquired, curious as ever. I paused thoughtfully before answering, "Snowball." Azrael's reaction was immediate; he looked at me with a mix of amusement and incredulity.
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Ink: Living Life as Serena Gleis
Historical Fiction𝑨𝒏 𝒂𝒖𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒓 𝒘𝒉𝒐 𝒇𝒊𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆𝒍𝒇 𝒊𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒘𝒏 𝒄𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏. 𝘙𝘦𝘯𝘦𝘦, 𝘢 𝘵𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘺-𝘧𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘦𝘭𝘧 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘢𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘭𝘪�...