Heir of Cinders [FADING EMBERS #1] - ON HOLD

1.1 - The Coronation

A hair out of place.

A strand of raven black hair ran down the back of Faisuri's lean neck, starkly out of place in comparison to the braided updo she had been attempting to create.

With a frustrated huff, she yanked free the tresses of her hair, allowing its black locks to cascade past her shoulders once more. Multiple failures of recreating the perfect hairstyle had pressed her hair into uneven waves. The young lady took hold of her comb and began to run its narrow teeth furiously down her hair. She began to weave together the strands of her hair into a braid, this time making sure that she had all of them accounted for. She twisted the braid around the back of her head, spinning it into a neat blossom-like bun before securing it with a multitude of pins. Leaning back on her cushioned stool, she paused for a moment to examine her handiwork. Her raven hair sat neatly upon her head, greatly contrasting her pale yet sallow complexion. Her almond-shaped eyes- the color of charcoal- stared back at her.

Now, she looked perfect. Everything was in their place- as it should be.

That day was a day of utmost importance, both to her personal self and to the rest of Althewyn as a whole. It was a day when Prince Aidan would turn his nineteenth year, and thus would be considered mature enough to assume to the throne and take up the mantle of his father, the valiant king Reghan. Around five years ago, when she was eleven, the king had been heavily injured in battle, rendering him crippled. A king of Althewyn would be the best thieran warrior in the continent- he was expected to lead the nation into battle should the situation arise. With King Reghan's predicament, he had been deemed unfit to rule... but Prince Aidan had not been old enough to be crowned the new king. Hence, this was a day awaited by so many in Althewyn. The entire kingdom would be celebrating the day of Prince Aidan's birth alongside his coronation.

It became imperative for Faisuri to look her best, and to carry herself with the perfect, proper conduct of a lady of Althewyn. Her uncle, her aunt, her cousin, and herself would be expected at the royal palace. Although she was in reality Faisuri of the East, as the people of Althewyn would call those who'd come from her kingdom of Halimun, she was still as much as a Raine as Uncle Allister and cousin Daud in the eyes of the public. She bore the name of the house of Raine and the responsibilities that came along it upon her shoulders. Her face was the face of a Raine, her tongue would speak the words of a Raine, and her actions would be the actions of a Raine. Faisuri knew she must not put a stain the reputation of the family who had raised her, and wherever possible, gain the favor of the new king and his would-be royal council.

She had been far too obsessive over her appearance, perhaps more than was humanly necessary. Sparing a glance at the ornate clock that hung on one of the walls of her room, Faisuri saw that the clock showed seven in the morning. The hour hand had moved two numbers down since she started preparing. Still, those hours had flown by her like mere seconds. Two hours had barely been enough, and she was almost regretting the decision of not having woken up earlier.

The young lady rose from her cushioned stool and found her way to a full-length mirror propped up against the wall next to her wardrobe. Faisuri allowed herself a graceful twirl, observing how the long silk skirt of her olive gown billowed around her ankles. A satisfied smile flickered onto her face. Her gown was a perfect fit for her- it hugged her waist so nicely, flattering her hips and her figure. The material was cool, light, and breezy, almost as if they were sheets of clouds being wrapped around her legs. The color, too, was her favorite. It reminded her of mornings under the shade of lush green canopies, with a book in her hand and the scent of grass all around her. The white gold around her neck twinkled in the light.

A knock drew Faisuri's attention to the double oaken doors of her room. She walked across the room to receive her visitor. A woman stood in front of the doorway, wearing a high-collared dress of shades of forest greens. Her ink black locks fell in fashionable waves past her shoulders. Her neck and wrists glittered with jewels, but the turquoise earrings that adorned her earlobes twinkled the brightest of all. They were shaped like teardrops, fitting for one who bore the name Raine. The woman was only slightly shorter than Faisuri herself, though her face displayed the exotic beauty of the east, with her perfectly angular dark eyes and her skin just the right shade of yellow. A smile graced her lips when those angular eyes viewed Faisuri.