Jennette had walked into Athanasia the other day, the latter followed by her small posse of maids and knights, and they had startled- expressions of horror unabashedly prominent as they see their beloved princess on the ground.
They all rush in to pick her up, to dust off her dress, "Your imperial highness!!!! Are you alright?!"
Athanasia laughs, Jennette thinks she sounds like what an angel is supposed to sound like, and Athanasia stands up by herself, waving off the guards, and offers her hand to Jennette.
Jennette doesn't care about pretenses, and decides in a moment's breath. She takes that oddly cold hand.
Jennette doesn't notice the sharp intake of breath that the people behind them take, and rubs off their stares as benign curiosity. It was not.
Athanasia's leg drags behind her as they start walking, and Jennette wants to roll her eyes at the obvious feint, and sickly sweet, she opens her mouth. "Princess, are you alright? Your leg seems to be a bit off-?"
At her words, people behind them jump into action, a flurry of arms pushing Jennette away from Athanasia as they quickly help the crown princess onto a window seat nearest to them, and they can all see Athanasia's swollen ankle, red and hot to the touch.
Jennette's face falls, so it wasn't her faking an injury after all.. and thinks that she should have also fallen harder, to get some form of sympathy from these people. More than Athanasia.
Jennette is too concerned with her own image that she doesn't see the people clump up together, hiding Athanasia from view as she makes the illusion disappear as quick as it came, her face unreadable as she peers at Jennette through the tiny gap between the bodies.
When Athanasia goes back to Jennette's side, she doesn't speak of her injury, and Jennette doesn't care much for talking about it either. A thin cold sliver of annoyance drifting between the two.
They walk together to Athanasia's room-well they were all Athanasia's in the Emerald Palace, but this was her main room, and Jennette thinks she's walked into a different universe.
It was simple, but elegant. Nothing gaudy hanging on the walls, save for two empty silver hooks and an antique emerald green, golden mirror in a baroque design.
What Jennette didn't know is that those plain looking hooks were for holding Athanasia's staff, which is currently hanging around her neck as a minuscule pendant.
Oddly enough, as Jennette swiveled her head around, there was no vanity, nor wardrobe, her bed is off in the corner- curtains drawn over the large window, a single black and gold divan sofa with white tasseled cushions.
She wanted to look around more, wanted to see the room she'll move into one day, but Athanasia had already sat her down, and waved for tea to come.
The smell of Earl Grey gradually filled the room with its signature deep bergamot scent, Jennette was glad it was a tea she was familiar with, and so she relaxed, chatting with Athanasia, as the saucers clattered, and the teacups made their way to the table in front of the large arching windows.
Jennette watched as the head maid-Lilian York, set the tea in front of them, before departing a short distance away with the others.
Not a word, as Athanasia cut into the single cake slice in front of herself, before reaching for the teapot, her hand seemed to still in the air, a blink, and then she was pouring them tea, first Jennette's cup, then her own rose print one, her hand never shaking as she poured.
Jennette felt the atmosphere was a bit odd, then dismissed it, Athanasia hadn't said anything, so why should she worry?
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