Year 953
The cooling breeze rustled upon a porcelain face of a young darling; and the leafy foliage from a sturdy tree crinkled into her sensitive ears, mixed with the tweeting of birds that sing their pleasant melody in the chorus.
Her teary-looking ocean blue lamps glistened as the pair sighted a breathtaking scenery that she pictured out inside her head and painted the immersion— clear skies, alongside the beaming rays which smooched her crimson cheeks—through the well-colored canvas.
Smearing a handful of cerulean shade, the lone wolf Berniss lightly planted a blue pigment with her paintbrush toward the artwork for another touch, and once again she glanced up above in the hopes of seeing the flying red kites—she dreamed of drifting those wings since her childhood— across the view.
"...Not yet," she mumbled, frowning about the much-anticipated outcome that never arrived into her ideal likeness, "Might as well I'll stay here for a while; the coronation can wait."
The brunette girl then stretched out her aching neck and arms; she laid her slouchy back against the shady Tree of Olivia—it was one of the secluded locations of Kerstel House wherein the royal family of Rousseau resided— but the underlying pain that manifested on her body did not subside itself.
There was a single means of escaping the reality the fair lady dared not halting— or might rather opt to settle in fundamental ways than fitting into royalty: a mundane existence like a typical painter's.
A first peek of picturesque landscapes and settings ascertained an inexplicable excitement and fascinated her to conceptualize numerable details, color, add distinct textures upon the white canvas, and served them as remembrances from that captured moment.
Every motion of nature itself lingered the potent kingdom, surrounding Berniss and even the artistic beings who lived in the land of Connick. It trickled down to sin not to grab a paintbrush from the basket she often brought and let her hand move smoothly bit by bit, never missing out on the given opportunity.
For Berniss, it was as if the passing days imbued recollections of the unchangeable past that must be kept and learned themselves.
"Ahh… How tiring. Strolling outside the abode pains the legs," she said, stroking her lower limb. Berniss likewise looked at the masterpiece she created and carefully grabbed her wrapped-up painting. "At least it's done. Such a stunning scenery, indeed."
Pleased, Berniss embraced the creation in her arms and shut her drooping lids off to take a short nap to restore full strength for the later celebration that would be held soon enough in the Palace of Vermaunt.
But as she nearly dozed off, the Princess of Marissens unintentionally neglected her parasol and the wind blew it out in a swift. The sheltering canopy then flew away slowly through the flower fields not so far from the distance.
"Oh my goodness, the parasol!" the princess groaned out of frustration, standing up at her feet. She plodded herself across the meadow and strived to catch the flying parasol which went on and on to the colorful poppies, tulips, and the lilies of the valley.
Bearing her discomfort from her limbs, Berniss recognized a familiar shadow that appeared to resemble the flying object she waited for in a long while; she looked up to the skies, and a profound smile flashed through the lips of Berniss.
"Wow..." she mumbled to herself, astonished by what she saw before her gleaming eyes. Berniss finally had a glimpse of a red kite— it had a very long tail by which it followed the ways of the mild wind— that glid its wings, freeing up and constantly shifting its movements from time to time.
The princess reached her hand forth up to the single red kite as if she could touch it easily through her delicate fingers.
It was a tradition of Berniss to wander around the Tree of Olivia every spring— her favorite season of the year— because the gusts that swept her body evoked the relief she ever wanted to herself.
'Like a kite, I wish to be free,' Berniss uttered, putting her hand onto her chest and compressing the silver key pendant she wore, "In my lifetime, I dream there will come a moment when the winds soar through me smoothly and bring me up to the clouds."
"With a pair of wings, I desire to flee from my abode, oh God, for once. If only You give me a chance to fly up high, I can be the girl who I wistfully dream to be. A forever royal who yearns for a simple living on earth is a nobody, but a servant to her nation and daughter, a child of the future king," Berniss sighed and was saddened by the idea there was no guarantee that she could leave the castle alone and experienced another world.
It was as if her fate walled her soul into somewhere else she could not defy on for the people outside the castle walls may put her into danger as what her grandfather used to warn; and to that, Berniss would not risk taking a voluntary suicide in aiming her fantasy.
"Your Royal Highness!" her lady-in-waiting yelled the princess's title out, seeking to find her lovely master, "Where are you, Ma'am? The visitors will be gathering soon."
Alarmed by the sudden call, Berniss hurriedly caught the parasol and she responded. "Liza! Stay right there. Just a minute!" she went onto the weary maid whom Berniss ever admired.
Her lady-in-waiting by the name of Liza Avet was kenned to pick such promising dresses and shoes for her birthdays, events, and burials of her loved ones. She told her a variety of stories about her life before she became a servant to the royals whenever her curiosity ignited abloom. The short-storytelling of Liza may happen during lunch at the Olivia Tree, afternoon in the garden, or evening before bed.
Because of this, Berniss respected and considered the warm Liza as her second mother—and these wonderful tales fascinated the fifteen-year-old girl.
Besides that, the female servant's empathy and kindness greatly influenced Berniss in her childhood; the princess learned from Liza that she must not be harmful towards other beings such as nobles and servants surrounding her circle even though they might lie, cheat, and betray her for power, fame and wealth.
"Liza, you should not be roaming around to find me; for goodness sake, you're carrying a child inside your womb," Berniss faked her irritation out, attempting the servant to feel guilty about her action. Yet, deep inside her heart, she was worried, "A punishment must be observed at once."
Liza knew the princess's feeling of annoyance was unbelievable and she giggled in a meek voice. She then lowered her head, begging for forgiveness, "Pardon my impudence, Your Royal Highness. The servant of yours expects her master to be the most beautiful gentlewoman among the aristocrats and fellow nobles in the coronation day..." she paused, eventually eyeing Berniss, "... and serves her until the very last hour of signing off as a lady-in-waiting."
Berniss stood aghast; she did not foresee the coronation day would also be the end of her association with Liza. In nine years of misery and happiness, it would not be easy for Berniss to let her beloved servant and friend go. But of course, she had no choice whatsoever, because Liza found love.
"Do you have to leave?", she asked, "You know I could ask Papa for-"
"Madam, I am good. His Majesty provided me the consent I obliged," Liza bowed again, not wanting the heir to see her dejected look on her face. To her surprise, a warm hug struck her figure.
"I hope this blissful journey with him prevails eternally," Berniss mumbled in a securing voice, rubbing the pregnant woman's back, " Be right back, are we clear?"
"Your word is my command, Your Royal Highness," Liza said, savoring the moment with the sad child.
A pile of dried leaves was stepped on by a mysterious stranger behind the vast tree; the Princess of Marissens heard of a footfall near the Tree of Olivia. It came off as if there was somebody who menacingly watched them over. Apprehensive, Berniss pulled away from the hug, and she whispered, "Liza, someone's following us. Stand still; I'll go figure it out myself."
"Madam, but..."
"It is an order," she cut her off. Berniss brought herself the folded parasol as her weapon and strode slowly through the tree, scrutinizing with her sharp eyes. She was mildly afraid but had the nerve to know who the person was. "I would not let anyone harm the pregnant lady-in-waiting of mine; she's too precious," she muttered in her heart.
As the princess moreover went close to the sturdy tree, Berniss spotted a long golden hair. She was dumbfounded in her disposition. It appeared to be that the locks of the unknown outsider were merely similar to the hair color of her late queen consort and mother.
"Who are you?" Berniss halted, observing the nondescript outsider and positioning a defensive stance in case of an attack, "Show yourself in this instant."
The mysterious stranger froze, but shortly he revealed his physical identity to the noblewoman.
He was quite a good-looking "female" who oddly hid both of his hands behind his back and had a set of green eyes which were mesmerizing to a sheer beholder. His gentle countenance, along with his cherry lips emanated purity which may captivate a multitude of men and even women.
He looked innocent, and could not possibly engage in any violence. Because of this, Berniss settled her parasol down to her side and was dazed by the face of an outsider.
"Who are you...?" she asked again.
For she was blinded, blinded by his ethereal beauty.