Whispers of the Royal Blood | 18+

Chapter 11

Tristan slipped out of the dining hall and made his way to his way to his sister's bedchambers. Knocking gently on her door, he called out in a sing-song voice. "Good morning, my dear sister! It is time to rise and shine!"

He waited a moment, but when no response came, he decided to peek inside to see if she was indeed still abed. Cracking the door open just a bit, he prepared to deliver a rather theatrical wake-up call.

The young prince's eyes widened in shock as he took sight of his sister's room in complete disarray-clothes strewn about the floor, makeup and grooming supplies scattered haphazardly, and a few empty glasses littering the nearby table. But what truly caught his attention was the princess herself, sprawled face down on her bed, still fully clothed in her gown from the previous night.

"Good gracious, Laina!" He gasped. "It looks as if a drunken whirlwind has spun its way through your chambers!" Young Tristan shook his head in mock disapproval, his hands on his hips as he surveyed the chaos before him. "I do hope you didn't cause too much trouble last night," he teased, an impish grin spreading across his face. "I fear that the sight of you in such a state might give our mother a heart attack."

He approached the bed, gently shaking his sister in an attempt to rouse her from her slumber. "Come now, Laina," he cooed, "it is time to face the day. You cannot spend all of your life napping, you know."

Laina, stirred by her brother's insistent prodding, opened one bleary eye to glare at him. "Five more minutes," she mumbled, her voice thick with sleep and the remnants of the previous night's revelries. "I'm still a little...tired." She nestled her face deeper into her pillow, seemingly determined to drift back into the land of dreams.

The young prince, undeterred by his sister's protest, could not help but chuckle at her display of stubbornness. "I'm sure you're very tired, sister mine," he said, "after all, you've had a busy night of...what was it? Dancing? Conversation? Perhaps a little more wine than is good for you?" He grinned at her, not a hint of reproach in his voice. "But I must insist that you rise and meet the day. Father sent me to fetch you, after all."

She groaned, her face still buried in her pillow. "Is this my punishment for teasing you all those years?" She mumbled, her words barely intelligible. "If you were truly my brother, you'd let me sleep for another hour or two."

Tristan decided to play along with her request. "Very well, sister," he said, his tone filled with exaggerated resignation. "I will inform Father that you are in dire need of more beauty sleep, and that I tried to coax you from your slumber but to no avail."

He leaned down, his face just inches from Laina's. "But I must say, it seems a pity to waste such a glorious day by hiding yourself away in this darkened room," he mentioned, "are you sure you wouldn't rather join us in the sunlight, with the singing birds and the scent of flowers in the air?"

He stood back up, a theatrical sigh escaping his lips. "Oh well, if you insist on depriving yourself of such simple pleasures, I suppose I cannot force you to join us." With a flourish, he turned to leave the room, his steps exaggerated and playful.

The boy pauses at the door, casting a teasing glance back at his sister's sprawled figure on the bed. "I shall return in five minutes to drag you out of bed, should you not rouse yourself by then," he warned with mock severity, "remember, my Laina, I am not beyond resorting to extreme measures to rouse you from your sloth."