A Thousand Year Obsession ✔

3. Don't Let Him Threaten You

3. Don't Let Him Threaten You

"Morgana!" The excited voice drifted up through the walls of my room, making me smile inspite of myself. "Morgana! Morgana! Morgana!"

Before me stretched the large vanity mirror, reflecting my own image. My black hair wound itself in intricate braids, guided by my precision practiced fingers. I wore a dark green gown, making my eyes appear more on the green side. My face still held the signatures of a growing child, and as I held the golden hairbrush in my hand, I couldn't help but admire the woman I knew I was sure to become.

"Morgana! Morgana! Morgana!" The voice shouted again, nearly right outside my door. "He's here! He's here! The Prince! He's here at last!"

I stood up then and placed the brush back down on the vanity. I turned towards the door as it flew open, revealing the young brown haired girl who appeared to be around fourteen. Her blue eyes sparkled with delight as she clapped her hands together and rushed over to me, wrapping her frail fingers around my wrists.

"Morgana! Morgana!" She cried. "Come on! Come on!"

She began insistently tugging on my arm but I resisted, laughing at her attempts to drag me from the room.

"Relax," I said. "I'll be down in a minute. I need to finish getting ready. Mother would kill me if she realized I hadn't tied my strings."

The girl rolled her eyes. "Let me help you then. It'll go faster with the two of us. Marian always did love the way I fastened them."

I giggled, but spun around so she could fasten the strings wrapping around the cloth undergarments. I despised having to wear them, but Mother always insisted that as I was turning into a lady, I had to support my body.

"There! That's the last one!" The girl exclaimed. "Now come on, Morgana!"

She tried to pull me from the room again, but I held back.

"You go ahead before me. I have to get something." I explained, slightly blushing.

The girl giggled and bounced up on the balls of her feet.

"What is it Morgana?" She asked. "What have you got?"

I turned away from her. "You'll see when we meet the Prince. Now go tell Mother I'll be right there."

"Fine, fine." She grumbled, but spun around and pranced from the room.

I took a lasting look around the stone walls of my bedroom. The bed stood against the far wall, shrouded in pale curtains. The wardrobe rested not too far from it, hiding within a bend in the wall. The bookshelf stood tall behind the two dark purple curtains shielding a small area filled with cushions and blankets where I tended to read the day away. I started towards the bedside dresser and opened the first drawer, pulling out a small sculpture. It was of a flower head, with pale blue-purple petals. I'd made it myself  for the Prince as a gift to show him honor. I rather like it, though, and I wished I didn't have to give it away. I had even briefly wondered if the Prince deserved this gift. But of course he must have. He was the prince after all.

I held it in my palm and hurried from the room, quickly falling down the last few stone steps to the gardens outside the walls of my home. The royal carriages stood there before my mother and father. The girl stood just behind them, grinning widely. I padded silently over to them and stood between my parents, watching excitedly as the door to the carriage swung open, and the Prince stepped out.

His back was facing us at first, but then he turned around. I could see him clearly. I could see him as clearly as day. And it was because of that that the clay flower head slipped straight through my fingers and fell with a deafening shatter onto the garden tiles.