Camren Oneshots & Imagines

Undesirable (II)

The moment they arrive at the place the Majesty announces to be 'home', Camila's elation is replaced with nerves once more. The house, if it can even be described with such a lowly term, is the largest building Camila had ever laid eyes upon. Sprawling walls of cream limestone in astonishingly good condition, each ending in a cylindrical tower, surround the car on three sides as they'd entered a gravelled courtyard to reach the front door. On the way through the said courtyard, she'd seen a large fountain sat in the centre, adorned with 14th-century Renaissance-Esque statues; she recalls the style of the era well from her short time in school when she'd excelled in her history classes and had been bumped up a great deal. Window after window reflects slightly distorted images of the sky, all of them pristine with no hint of the smallest fingerprint. Each has its own small balcony, though Camila doubts they are large enough to stand on, with wrought-iron railings. The manor is capped with a mansard, blue-slate roof, peppered with chimneys. Its French influence is so glaring, Camila wonders if it were better referred to as a château.

The car door slides open and Camila immediately drops her gaze, opting to stare at the immaculate hedgerows skirting the base of the building instead. The gravel crunches beneath her feet as she hops from the vehicle, swinging her bag onto one shoulder. She stands still for a moment, unsure as to whether she should head towards the nearby dark wood door or wait for someone else to do so first. The car peels away from behind her but still, she stands, now finding the sandy-coloured gravel to be riveting.

Finally, a hand finds her chin and lifts her gaze ever-so-gently. Camila's jaw clenches to avoid a flinch when she realises she does not recognise the woman before her with a purple symbol glimmering in her forehead. The woman regards her with an objective expression before suddenly breaking into a grin. Her hand tears from Camila's chin so her arms can wrap around the smaller girl. Her hug isn't quite as warming as the Jauregui's but it is welcome nonetheless. Camila is so starved for kind contact, she finds herself near tears once more at the simple embrace, even as she wonders whether all of the Majesty's friends will be so high in status.

"Go easy on her, Mani," a now somewhat familiar voice says with an airy laugh. The woman lets go of Camila, allowing her to wipe at her eyes with the heel of her hand. She turns to find the Jauregui standing a little way off to the side and wonders how long she'd been there.

"Sorry, I can be a little much sometimes," Mani, Camila assumes, returns, still smiling broadly at the girl. "What's your name?"

"Camilla," the Majesty answers for her, which Camila is more than grateful for, lest she be left in yet another awkward situation with yet another member of the higher class. Still, she cringes at the name, which both women seem to notice. "Or maybe not." Deciding to move on, she then wraps her arm around Camila's shoulders, giving her a light squeeze. "Shall we head inside now? Are you ready?"

Camila isn't sure which is the response the Majesty wants, so she nods hesitantly and allows herself to be led up the wide steps to the front door, which opens as soon as they reach it. She assumes that it is automatic, but a man greets them from beside it as they enter. She ponders just how similarly the house is run to the olden times she so loved to learn about. So far, besides the car they took to get here and the gems decorated each person's brow, she's seen no sign that they're even in the same millennia--though, to be fair, she hasn't seen much at all.

The interior of the building is just as ostentatious as the rest, with a huge entrance hall complete with double-height arched ceilings, white with golden accents. She notices slight patterns on the empty spaces of the ceiling and wonders if they're sketched outlines of artwork soon to be applied.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" The Majesty's voice is deep in her ear but soothing. She turns to her, wanting to proclaim that she's never seen a more stunning space.

After gulping to ease the tension rising in her throat, she manages to force a near-silent, "Yes, Majesty."

The Majesty's jaw drops ever so slightly as she exudes awe. For a moment, her lips twitch, as though failing to find the words she needs. Camila gulps and looks down at the floor, hooking her thumb behind the strap of her bag. Finally, she hears a whisper almost like her own in volume. "You have a divine voice; you should use it more often. And please, call me Lauren."

...

Lauren gives a 'quick' tour of the house, though the sheer size of it causes it to last an hour or so. She shortens it by only briefly describing halls of guest rooms and unused banquet spaces, focusing instead on the areas which she, and therefore Camila, will likely use the most, like the dining hall, her favourite of the three living rooms, their bedrooms, three different entertainment rooms, and the library. 

It is the latter in which their tour ends. Lauren says it is her most favourite of all of the rooms, and Camila can see why. It is about as large as the lobby, though not quite as tall as it sits on the second-story. It has a balcony running along the entire length of the room overlooking the rolling gardens below. Shelves made of wood of a deep, rich colour run from floor to ceiling around the entire room, even slotted between the arched windows and double doors leading onto the balcony. They are all jam-packed with an extensive collection of books, both new and old. Some are so precious, they are not placed on the shelves but rather on pedestals scattered about the room, encased in glass boxes to prevent any damage when they're not being read. Large, plush sofas are also placed in the room so that one might perch themselves there while scouring their newest book, or perhaps one they've read a hundred times over. The smell is heavenly, a delicate combination of leather, old pages, and a hint of heady whiskey.

Camila is lost in skimming the various titles, imagining what stories might lie within the pages when Lauren speaks up again. "Are you hungry, sweetie?"

The sound startles Camila, who turns to look over her shoulder at the woman. She doesn't even need to think of the answer; it is always the same. She nods rapidly, causing Lauren to chuckle. She takes a book from the shelf behind her before making her way over to the girl, handing it to her. Camila frowns down at the green-clad book. It has quite a weight to it, with so many pages that she struggles to hold it with one hand, like Lauren had. Embedded in its leather cover are the words Ivory: The Purest Truth. Her frown remains etched on her face as she looks back to the woman whos lips are pulled taught in a grin.

"I want you to read that. It's written by a friend of mine. I don't mind how long it takes, take as long as you need to, but tell me when you're done."

Camila glances down at the book once more, but doesn't find a name. Her eyes traces the title once more. "Why?"

Lauren's smile grows, and she reaches out to cup Camila's cheek, encouraging eye contact once more. "You'll see." The strange intensity in her voice fades as she turns on her heels, becoming light once more. "Shall we get lunch? I'm starving."

Camila stifles a face-splitting smile as she quickly follows after her, book held tight between her hands.

...

still think I might make a book out of this...

😇