Wax Abyss

[ Maya ] Her Slaughter-Lamb Eyes

A/N More art of mine. Depicting Lucille Mantara.

She sat in her study, up in the highest tower. Gazing out the window with her dark chocolate eyes, she noticed that the sun would be setting soon, and she only hoped her guests would make it in time. Turning away from the tower, she brushed off her dress and glanced around the room.

The future queen's royal study was not exactly the most extravagant thing. It was small, and cozy. It was lined from wall to wall with various novels of the queen's interest. These books were mostly horror and fictional stories, all titles she was extremely interested in. It was lit by candlelight in the evening and sunlight in the day, of which shone a golden glow on the room at twilight, when Maya herself would light the candles.

There was a sudden knock on the door, which made Maya jump (She would never admit to it though, her pride was too strong). "My lady?" Said a small, familiar voice. Maya felt herself perk at it; it was the voice of none other than her retainer, Lucille.

"Come in, Lucille. You know I can't deny you that." Maya said, plopping down on the windowsill seat. Her minty, white and brown dress billowed under her and settled as she did. The door handle jiggled for a moment, before slowly opening. Lucille poked out from behind she door, just as sheepishly as her people.

Lucille had short hair that fell down in pale ringlets that circled and circled her face, and soft, green eyes. Those pathetic, slaughter lamb eyes. They always looked shy and sad, the under side darkened with mascara in futile attempt to hide the dark circles always under her eyes. Her little button nose was eternally red and eternally full of little sniffles. Lucille's cheeks were constantly a bit flushed, and her pale eyebrows were thin. She had a slim face and long, drooping ears that rounded at the end and were not pierced. "My liege, your father wishes to speak with you. He sent me to come and fetch you."

Maya pursed her lips at this. Taking a moment to thing before she replied. Her father, the king, had been ill for quite some time now, and she'd been an only child. Now, the kingdom feared he was on his last legs. "Fine, I'll go." She stood up, opening the door wide and revealing Lucille in her whole, bathing her in the waning evening light.

Lucille's body looked like a satyr's- thin and flouncy. Though, unlike the average satyr, from below Lucille's thigh was solid black- matte flesh and bone that reflected no light. It was thin and frail, and looked like she'd fall over if the wind came her way. It made the satyr look rather top heavy. Like a good retainer, she was dressed properly. Her clothes had to be tailored, but that was a small price to pay for her family's great deeds and work. Lucille, today, had been wearing a ruffled, button down paired with her tailored pants. The top was off-white, and the shorts were a soft blue-grey. Lucille had been holding a candle in her free hand, the other of which had been previously resting on the door before Maya pulled it away.

"Well? What are you standing there for? Go!" She ushered the satyr down the stairwell, who paused and scrambled before nodding and carefully leading the way down. Lucille had to have one hand on the wall, and every step she took looked pitiful and weak. She walked in fear of tripping and tumbling down the swirling, stone stairwell. 

Once Maya and Lucille reached the bottom, the retainer opened the door for her. It opened into the well lit foyer, of which Maya exited out into. "Now, Lucille," Maya said, watching the satyr close the door and set the candle onto a side table. "Tell me about the condition of my father. Has it worsened."

Lucille's ears drooped, "W-well, your highness, I'm afraid so..." Those eyes. Those pitiful green eyes looked back up to Maya, finally meeting her gaze for the first time today. "We fear the worst... He think's it's time. We should hurry." Maya felt the pit in her stomach arise. She quickly turned on her heel, rushing to the upper floors of the palace and effectively leaving her servant in the dust.