𝐒𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐏𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐭

𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄

                                                                    ~𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐔𝐄~

Looking around at the barren terrain outside the carriage window, Ophelia shuddered at the thought of actually living here one day. It had been a long trip from the Land of the Gales, where she hailed from, to the Nightshades, where she was to meet the man who might become her fiance. "Ophelia! Look! I can see the palace on the horizon!" Evelyne, Ophelia's younger sister, had been utterly entranced by everything she saw on their journey, regardless of its actual magnificence.

Ophelia followed her sister's gaze, almost scoffing when she saw the 'palace', if you could even call it that. It looked more like 4 houses pushed together haphazardly. As Ophelia looked at it more closely, that seemed more and more likely to be the case. There were odd bump outs everywhere, with window combinations that just did not match. She was going to expand upon her list when Evelyne started to babble about Peter, her twin, for about the fifth time today. "I bet he's torn up all of my paintings by now," she mused, slumping against the window at the thought.

This drew their mother's attention. "Now why would he do that?" she inquired, looking genuinely perplexed. "You two are very great friends. And besides, your father is there to watch him. And the housekeepers, at that."

The conversation was silenced by the carriage slowing to a stop at the front of the 'palace'. Evelyne composed herself quickly, though those who knew her would still see the traces of a wide grin. A man dressed in a rich black uniform opened the carriage door. Wishing to present herself in a good light, Ophelia took his gloved hand as she stepped onto the dirt. As her mother and sister stepped out of the carriage, she took note of the way the ground seemed to crunch under their feet. There was no way a plant could possibly grow in such conditions. A melancholic expression overtook her face as she pondered what it would be like if she were to live in such bleak conditions.

Her thoughts were interrupted by her mother clearing her throat. They were going inside now to meet the royal family. Her father had mentioned what they looked like after his first visit here. The eldest son, Darian, was alleged to have dark grey eyes and an expressionless face. He would also be the son that stayed in his homeland. The younger brother, Killian, had bright red hair and cold blue eyes. He was the one who would move to The Gales, should a wedding actually take place.

As the group passed through several winding hallways, Ophelia couldn't help but notice the distinct lack of decoration in the place. It was a stark contrast to the extravagant halls of her home. She glanced over to Evelyne who looked, for the first time in their travels, unimpressed. "This place could stand to gain a bit of decoration, don't you think?" she said, looking at the walls in distaste.

Ophelia nodded, trying to peer out of the murky windows. "And maybe a wash, I can't see a thing out of these windows," she added, elbowing Evelyne playfully. Stifling a laugh, Evelyne straightened up as they turned a corner into a large room with a tall ceiling. A chandelier dangled precariously from the dome of the room, swaying threateningly over their heads. Eyeing it with suspicion, Ophelia and Evelyne took their places beside their mother. Ophelia's eyes swept the room, but saw only a set of couches and a door in the corner. She wondered what they could possibly be doing there.

She was about to ask her mother when the creaking of the door drew all of their attention to it. From the doorway poured five figures, each obscured in darkness. As they moved along the wall, Ophelia caught a glimpse of red hair, which she assumed belonged to Killian. As the people cloaked in darkness stepped under the chandelier in the middle of the room, Ophelia finally got a good look at them. The man leading the group, whom she assumed was King Laurence, looked a great deal like her own father. With a weathered face and cool grey eyes, he carried with him the aura of a wise king from the days of old. Queen Rosalind followed closely behind him. She had long red hair braided down her back and wore a placid expression, as if nothing could ever phase her.