"Queens and commoners, princes and peasants, welcome to the party of the quincentury!"
For most people, receiving an invitation to the White King's Masquerade is an honor. Even attempting to attend is a chance to go down in history. But for Sol of M...
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Asriel led us out of the foyer into the castle, leading us through a long corridor of glass and wood, with various other corridors branching from it, each one an example of hostile fragile glass merging with the warmth of nature.
We stayed on the main corridor, only slowing down when we reached a set of carved wooden doors. The doors opened to reveal a small comfortable looking room, each cream wall lined with shelves stuffed full of books.
In the centre of the room was a large wooden table and various chairs were littered around the room covered in blankets and pillows. It almost looked homelike. Almost.
"This is the common room and those doors," Asriel announced, gesturing to three wooden doors, one on each wall, "lead to your accomodations. There are two boys rooms and a girl's room. I trust you will sort yourselves out."
At that a wizened female troll waddled out of one of the rooms.
"Ah and here is Carya. She is a matron of sorts and is to be obeyed at all times. You have the rest of the day to explore the grounds. Lights out is at twelve sharp and morning training begins at seven," Asriel informed us, then without waiting for a response he swept out of the room.
"What is this, boarding school?" I heard Pelias grumble as he looked around the room, his disdain evident.
Carya didn't waste any time asserting her authority. She immediately herded Odelyn, Fyn and I into one of the rooms, pointing at the beds before shutting the door, presumably to do the same to the boys.
"I guess she wants us to pick beds," I said, heading over to the one nearest to me.
The beds, I hate to admit it, were pretty luxurious compared to what I was used to. Each bed was placed against a wall, covered with fresh sheets and a hand-sewn quilt. They took up most of the space in the room, leaving a tiny area in the middle to move around.
The spaces beside the beds were taken up by an assortment of plants which did put me at ease. I meant it when I said Mycroft had some great plants. But people take priority over plants, and the able are few. If only we understood it. If we could at least figure out how it spread that would be a start.
"I don't think we've properly met. I'm Fyn of Miriope," Fyn said cheerfully, forever extending herself to others and thankfully breaking me out of the daze I was beginning to spiral into. One thing was clear though. I needed to talk to Ele.
"Odelyn of Melvion. But before we go any further I do plan on getting to know the prince," she sniffed.
"Okay?" Fyn replied, genuinely confused.
"Just so you don't get any ideas."
"Sol of Mycroft," I said, attempting to end the excruciatingly awkward encounter, "and Odelyn do you always begin new friendships by staking claims on princes?"
