Crowned follows a character named Mara Clare who is a waitress in Chicago. She has never felt connected to anyone. Even her parents never seemed to love her. Therefore, her escape came through the pages of books. On her 25th birthday, she gets a cal...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Warmth spreads all along Mara's face, a brisk amount of warmth, in the form of kisses or embrace? She can feel herself breaking from her sleep and all she can think about is Peter, is he here? Kissing her at this very moment? She opens her arms to him and her eyes flutter open to be drenched in a slobbery kiss from a white sheep dog, who she is realizing is the notorious Attila. He is staring at her, on the ledge of her bed, paws on her sheets, and his warm breath, which smells of rabbits and porridge, overtakes her senses. She laughs falling backwards, covering her nose, but giving him the love he deserves by petting him along his bushy fur. This is all the encouragement that he needs thus jumping onto the bed, pushing Mara back, as he attacks her with more wet kisses. She laughs, gut busting chuckles, as he pets him while saying "good boy."
She has been laughing so much that she hasn't noticed a woman, about the age as she, walking into the bedroom. The woman is quite petite, fair as the moon, with a heap of black hair gathered at the top of her head into a ballerina bun. Her thin lips spread into a laughing line as she notices Mara petting Attila.
"He seems to like you very much."
Mara almost jumps as she hears the woman speak. Finally, after pushing Attila aside, she notices her standing in the doorway, arms delicately folded in front of her. Then Mara realizes that she is no longer on the jet or in the air for that matter. Had she been asleep the whole time? She doesn't even remember coming here. She looks down noticing the dark velvet red comforter and white silky sheets that practically feel like a second skin. Her pillows are massive towering over her head and she feels like she's slept on a cloud more so than an actual pillow. Mara runs her hand through her hair, which has come out of it's braid. She is overwhelmed taking the entire room in. She finally turns to the woman,
"I'm sorry, where am I?"
"I'm sorry to have startled you Miss. Clare," she curtseys. "I am Cecila, your maid for your stay here. If there is anything I can get you it would be my pleasure."
Mara didn't realize her French accent until she hears her again, it's quite lovely, silky and smooth like a harmony. She's lovely in her long grey skirt and white button up shirt. Her hair seems to slick so nicely back showing off her delicate dark blue eyes and raven colored hair. How could she think of her wealthy the farthest thing from it. In fact, this maid, is the closest thing to normalcy that she's felt since her life spiraled into this tale.
"Please, call me Mara and you don't need to get me anything. Thank you. This place is..."
She trails off as she really begins to take in the view of the grand bedroom. There's also a dark red canopy shielding the top of the bed draping down covering the side like a curtain. The paneling on the wooden walls are painted a delightful cream color adorned with old clocks and portraits to bring a bit of character to the bedroom. There's a fire place and vanity area towards the window and balcony. Mara sits up and in excitement runs towards the balcony. This place cannot be real it seems like something she's only read about in fairytales or dreamed in her wildest fantasies!
