❝ Go find yourself a King ❞
❝ Darling, I am my own King ❞
in which klaus mikaelson sets his sights on a siren destined for the throne.
[ prequel to siren ]
Lilura remarked, lips quirking upwards in her signature feline smirk that made those who received it perpetually nervous.
The woman, Genivia Rya, pressed her thin lips into a line. She hardly seemed perturbed by the eldest Princess' threat. It was as if she were simply a spirit listening in on a conversation. Perhaps that may be why people in the Capital called Seamstress Rya the palace ghost. With voluminous grey hair, pale skin, and thinly arched eyebrows, she looked just like one. As a result, the soldiers, maids, and royals liked to avoid the mysterious old woman.
Lilura Anthemoessa, however, loved to antagonize the forbidden. And here it was, sticking pins inside her dress.
"With all due respect Your Grace, why can't you act more like the young princess?" said Seamstress Rya without a hint of a smile.
Lilura held back a laugh as Marcella blushed at the compliment, "What? Utterly uninteresting? I'd rather die before that happens."
"Lilura!" Marcilla gasped, cheeks redder than before. "Don't speak like that in front of the Seamstress."
Seamstress Rya tugged on the corset stings.
Son of a —
"I'll start being proper when Genivia stops forcing my lungs into my stomach, yes?" Lilura managed through her pain. "Perhaps this pulling and tugging is unnecessary."
"Perhaps, Your Grace. But another noblewoman who had paid heed to her Seamstress' views will certainly upstage you at your own birthday ball."
The older princess spun around, hands at her hips and lips pursed disdainfully. However, another voice joined the trio before Lilura could utter a single word in indignant defense of herself.
"Au contraire, I quite like the silhouette. It suits the princess well."
Seamstress whirled around sharply, "Lord Mikaelson, this is the West Wing! It is the Princess' rooms and it is entirely forbidden for any male to come waltzing in without so much as a knock on the door!"
"Oh," Lord Nikalus answered. "Apologies Genivia, but I find that there's been a mishap with the fabrics in the sewing room. My brother — bless his clumsy baffoonery— has knocked over an entire station of silks. Would you be a dear, Ginny, and help him out?"
