Never Ending

one

A girl with black hair and violet colored eyes sat in the corner of her room. She sat by the window, a book opened on her lap while her fingers poised to flip the pages. Her eyes were not focused on the book, however, being trained outside on the black world covered in a blanket of snow.

The room was so quiet that the only noise that could be heard was the slight sound of the girl's relaxed breathing.

And the silence was then broken by a knock on the wooden doors that provided the entrance to the room. A voice followed, saying, "Ma'am, your father is requesting your presence."

The girl glanced towards the door, her concentration of the snowy outsides broken. She closed the book and tossed it to the pile of books on her floor before approaching the door. She opened it for the maid that stood there and asked, "What does he want?"

The maid bowed her head, careful not to make eye contact with the younger girl. "He would like to request something of you, ma'am."

"Is it important?" the girl asked, a scowl gracing her features.

"Yes, ma'am."

She let out a deep sigh. "Well, in that case, do I need to change?" she asked, gesturing to her plain white dress and bare feet.

The maid looked at the girl's outfit slowly. "No, ma'am," she said. "Although I would like to suggest wearing shoes."

"He shouldn't care too much," she responded confidently, but took a pair of white heels with her anyway. "Where is he now?" the girl inquired as she put them on.

"In his study, ma'am."

The young girl pushed past the maid and took off rather quickly, without waiting for her to escort her. She'd practically left the servant in the dust, hearing her protests about escorting her grow quieter and quieter.

She soon reached her father's study, his custom-made doors towering over her petite stature. She did not bother knocking as she pushed the doors open.

The young girl's father was a middle aged man with dark and striking blue eyes, who was currently lounging in his chair studying a multitude of papers scattered on his desk. His eyes had been rapidly scanning a paper when his daughter came in unannounced. Nevertheless, he turned his attention from the papers to his daughters.

"Welcome, Noelle," he said, removing his glasses. "Did you knock?"

The girl made her way to the front of his desk and curtsied mockingly. "What did you need from me?" she asked, ignoring his question.

He countered back by ignoring hers and asking another question. "What happened to the maid I sent?"

"She was too slow," she answered.

The man sighed. "It seems that could not have been avoided," he said stiffly, more to himself than to her. He stood from his chair and sifted through his papers. "The maid may have told you, but I have a proposition for you."

Rolling her eyes, she said in a bitter voice, "More like an order. So what is it?"

Her father seemed to have found what he had been looking for as he cleared his desk. "How would you feel about an arranged marriage?" he asked, holding a contract up.

Noelle studied it for a moment before realizing it was a marriage contract. Her eyes widened the slightest bit before her snarky mouth decided to retort: "It's not about what I want though, isn't it, Father?"

"I'm glad you understand."

She sighed. "Couldn't you just send me the details at a later time?" Noelle asked.