Aloysia scowled, clinging on to the moist cobblestone wall of the castle, still under that shadow of darkness.
Its walls were falling to rubble with her single touch. Not ideal to hang from, being suspended in air.
Situated there, she wondered that if she left the Prince any earlier, that he would be dead. The very feeling sent her body to shiver. She didn't care for him.. but she did care for the future of this kingdom that held so much beauty.
Clearing her mind, she scratched the worn stone with her boot for grip, glancing under her pitch hood to a glass stained window. It was situated on the North side of the castle, near two sentries 50 metres from it. Each incredibly blind for not being able to detect her. Yet her stealth was always compared to a shadow, so that was to be expected.
The wild forest of grass layering the castle grounds were very far below from her position, and Aloysia was high, she needed to be to reach the chambers.
With a predator's stealth, she quickly and efficiently manoeuvred her way along the wall, using her strength to pull her up. Scaling the wall undetected, her cloak brushed against the fragile glass she was now hanging next too.
Aloysia sighed a sigh of relief, as her arms had began to ache, which was considered impossible in this wintry weather numbing her, limb from limb.
She had done this so many times, it had become a routine, one she had gotten very good, and familiar with.
Reaching with her left hand through the open window, she planted her closest foot on its frosted ledge. The warmth swept over her blood saturated body and clothes as she pulled herself through, landing on solid wood. Embracing the heat, she widened her arms and raised her head as she allowed the fire crackling in the corner to melt her brittle, frost bitten bones.
As her body temperature regulated, a sudden burst of tiredness swept through her. She had been awake all day and all night. Her body was drooping as the heat sunk in, her eyes begging for sleep, but her body reeking for a bath. She had a hunting party to attend tomorrow. Aloysia growled to herself. She didn't want to go. Not one bit.
~~~
The morning sunrise pierced through the ajar window, shining its heat filled ray onto her cloak that lay wrapped, as a blanket, around her throbbing and sore body.
The fire was no more than a dwindling disappointment, as its wood was merely ash.
Her cloak was still blood soaked, drooling down her leg from last night. She squinted while shielding her eyes with her palm. It Reeked of blood. If anyone saw her, they would get suspicious.
Groaning at the ache of her muscles, she lifted herself to sitting, well, slouching against the headboard.
Its fine silk caressed her gruesome smelling body as if she were left to rot.
The carved head piece was groaning with the weight of her declining body against it. She just wanted sleep, begged for it to take her adrift, allow her body to recuperate, but no. She had to be somewhere.
She scowled.
Deciding that she was in desperate need of a bath, she called upon any energy left, and trudged to the bath using every object as leverage.
The solid wood floor, frosted from the wintery wind, nipped at her toes as she made her not-so elegant way to the bathroom.
She reappeared soon after, having ditched the blood mucked clothes behind and dawned a towel around her body.
"My dear, you should be at breakfast already!" A concerned old and crooked voice shouted at Alyosia. She came storming through the door, arms first, barrelling on at her.
"I'm sorry Genalia"
Genalia huffed while placing her arms on her hips. She was an old lady with simple features, tied back grey hair and bearing a brown dress with slight tears handstitched back to pristine condition.
"Sorry won't cut it, Elianna"
Alyosia bit her lip and Genalia retracted.
"Sorry, I meant Alyosia"
Her crimson eyes darted around the room, avoiding any show of emotion.
"No, you must call me Elianna-" she gulped, walking to the table and chairs situated in the centre of the room, "-For appearances, and only appearances"
Genalia bowed.
"Of course"
Elianna sat uncomfortably on the wooden chair, trying to cover her frozen legs with the heat of her towel.
Genalia, as if nothing happened, marched over to her, and began to fiddle with her hair. Elianna hissed and reached for her wrist, but she batted her hand flat out of the way. Years of parenting was quicker than any assassin.
She was deciphering what hair style was needed for today's grand reveal, to meet the Prince in person. But of course, she had already met him, already seen his charming smile that could alight a woman's heart. Tales.
She could not tell Genalia, could she?
"My dear, you must wear your finest riding gear for today's hunt"
She rolled her eyes, and Genalia stopped.
She hustled around the chair and leaned over, her head level with Elianna's; cupping her chin, staring into her transporting crimson eyes.
"My dear, I heard of your meeting with the Prince yesterday"
The eyes darkened and she pulled her head away. "Im not mad, Elianna-", she stood straight, fixing her god-dammed spine, as it cracked into standing, "-If anything, Im glad, you saved the Prince's life"
Elianna turned to face her and huffed.
"Who would of thought one of his guards had it out for him eh?" She laughed.
"The prince told the guards everyone upon his return"
Elianna's expression was blank, a professional mask.
"And well, word got around quite quickly-" she paused, re-assessing the wining child in front of her, sympathy lacing her voice.
"My dear-"
"Can I get dressed please, as you said I am already late!?"
Elianna was impatient and the sharp hiss in her tone was a sound Genalia was all too familiar with, especially being her servant since her arrival at the Northern castle.
She had cracked and did not want to talk about her 'meeting' with the Prince, so knowing when not to push the subject, Genalia sighed and headed toward her wardrobe.
Elianna on the other hand was angry; oooh she would sure tell the Prince and deliver a message, to never, ever, spread news of her 'heroics', ever again.
She hated The Shadow being used as a puppet of the royals. No. The Shadow was its's own royal, and answered to no one, especially not the Prince.
Her blood stirred, and she sprang up, walking towards a mirror in the corner of her room. There she was fitted with a gown, seamed for royalty.
She was royalty.
The tight red bodice hugged her curves as it flowed effortlessly down forming a small train of silk and lace combined. The neckline was low, matching the back that drooped down her back, revealing a lot of skin. Scars were covered expertly by Genalia herself, acting like a second skin.
Genalia always took pride in making sure Elianna flaunted her beauty, her perfect figure and skin. The stares never ceased to end.
Silver embroidery outlined the seams and her hair flowed free, her short, blonde curls. Genalia requested the material to be rich red, as it matched her gleaming eyes that no one could understand.
Suffocating from the sting of the corset cutting off her blood circulation, she sucked in a breath, gracefully gliding to the door where a beaming Genalia stood, admiring her handy work. It only took an hour, and she was ready, ready to dine with the Royal family, her father, soon to be mother in-law, and the queen's son, the Prince.
She gulped.
Plus, all the nobles of the Royal court from the southern Kingdom. This would be the toughest breakfast of her life...