Agnes walks along the lavish walls of the castle hoping that they would lead her deranged soul home. What had she just done? Kicked the Crown Prince of the Empire in his balls? Just for petty revenge? Grandpa and Grandmum are going to be so disappointed in her!
Heaven have mercy on her soul because if that man isn't able to reproduce in the future—
Wait— who is he going to procreate with?
Her? Agnes? Making love with that loathsome little white rat?!
Fiddlefarts. She would rather voluntarily jump in boiling oil and make a fried snack out of herself. Maybe that might be more productive of her existence than having to procreate with him.
"Humerah, leave that picturebook and dust the headrest."
"In a bit, Madam Belladonna, the Prince is about to kiss the fake Princess!!"
Agnes stills in her steps outside her designated chambers, staring at the white wood carved doors in front of her. Her silver eyes twitch simultaneously, ominous to whatever lies beyond them.
"Work or I will register you for a school."
There's a dragged, scandalized, gasp.
"You are an evil, Madam Belladonna."
"I want it shinning like your dinner plates before the Princess arrives."
Footsteps head closer to the doors and, before Agnes could pretend to be busy, they are pulled open with a slow thud.
"I just arrived, I promise," Agnes awkwardly waves at the intimidating lady standing before her. The woman is tall, around six feet in height, and makes the princess feel like a dwarf in comparison. Her raven curls are pulled in a tight ponytail, falling all the way down to her waist. Her face holds lesser expressions than that of the wall beside her. Her eyes are beady brown, lips thick and pulled in a straight line, nose showing no remote signs of breathing.
"Your Highness, Princess Agnes Cosmia Merceius Raqs, Her Holiness of the Empyrean Dawn Ark, has arrived," The woman enunciates all of her name and titles, much to Agnes' embarassment. The woman falls into a curtsy as all the maids inside the room strut to the door and assemble in two equal parallel lines behind her, bowing in Agnes' honor.
Flushing red in her neck while playing with the hem of her sleeves, Agnes awkwardly coughs out, "Rise, please, it is a pleasure to be served by such fine ladies like yourselves."
The silent lines of twelve maids stand eerily still.
"Welcome, Princess Agnes Cosmia Merceius Raqs. These shall be your resting chambers at the Gale Castle," the ravenette holds out a hand behind her, gesturing at the room, whilst the only muscle that moves in her face are her lips. "I am Belladonna, your lady in waiting, my Holiness."
Agnes waves her hands awkwardly, wanting Belladonna to stop being so formal with her, but the maids take it as a gesture to stand up straight.
"It is wonderful to meet you, Belladonna, but for the love of our Empress, please don't adress me so formally," Agnes sighs before walking inside her beautiful chamber room.
"I apologize, Your Highness Princess Agnes Cosmia Merceius Raqs, Her Holiness, I shall I try to ammend my mistakes," Belladonna iterates.
Agnes pulls her lips in a straight line and hopes that Belladonna is a quick learner.
The room smells like wet roses and freshly brewed coffee embracing buttery crêpes. The delicious chocolate covered strawberries on the tea table catch Agnes' eyes before anything else.
"Chocolate covered strawberries!! You all spoil me," Agnes squeals to herself before running over to one of the four high-backed chairs surrounding the tea table, much to the utter shock of all her ladies in waiting, and plopping herself on it.
She lets her feet hang off from one armrest whilst resting her head on another, picking up one strawberry after another and she stuffs her mouth with four of them at once. Her feet dangle shamelessly in isolation as her cheeks remain happily full.
"Oh sweet mercy, these are an absolute delicacy!! Do you want some?" Agnes moans out, loud enough to embarrass all present in her proximity.
Not an eyelash blinks in response.
"Who am I even asking," Agnes mumbles to herself before trying out the crêpes with her sweet coffee. The coffee froth sticks over her upperlips and Agnes licks it off before it would melt away and disappear.
The maids stand as still as stones at the head of her doors, blending well with the white and blue wallpapered walls of her room.
It wasn't until Agnes had emptied almost all plates decorated in her presence when one of the maids sneezes, as softly as a butterfly's fluttering wings. Nevertheless, it was enough for Agnes to realize, again, that she wasn't alone. That she was being watched. By maids assigned by the Queen herself.
Well curse her.
"You are dismissed, please, I rarely ever need any assistance. You may leave now," Agnes raises her hands and flicks it in the air, gesturing them to leave. Her tone is loud and authoritative and leaves no room for the expressionless dolls to defy her.
The parallel lines behind the tall and beautiful Belladonna thin as the ladies robotically strut away with their swaying skirts and ruffles— until only one maid remains.
Agnes blinks at her, face blank but glance questioning.
"This is Humera, Your Highness, Princess Agnes Co—"
"Please, Belladonna, don't adress me by all of my names and titles. It gets overbearing after a few. Just Princess or Agnes would be fine!"
"— apologies, Your Highness, she will be your handmaiden from today onwards," Belladonna introduces stoically. Agnes assumes that Belladonna had experienced one bad hair day and made it a personality for herself.
The small handmaiden with auburn curls, a bright boxy smile and glamorous blue eyes on her small face, waves at Agnes from her position beside the intimidating and cold Belladonna.
Delighted by her captivating and warm smile, Agnes waves back to her. Though, upon receiving a stare from Belladonna, Humera falls into a curtsy again.
"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Your Highness," She greets in her soft voice a few baritones on the excited spectrum. There is a subtle bounce in her feet that makes Agnes all but coo, gesturing her to raise her head.
"The pleasure is all mine, Humerah. I have a feeling that I would love being served by someone as lovely as you," The ashy haired princess finally sits up straight.
Humerah blushes profusely with her neck almost meeting her shoulders in coyness. "I have never seen a Princess before but you are so kind and beautiful! Just like the stories! My Princess, I shall work for you forever!!" The little handmaiden exclaims excitedly, bouncing her head up and down along with her soft curls.
Agnes laughs brightly upon standing up and walks up front to the white and pink couch sitting in front of her victorian bed. She pulls the zipper of her periwinkle dress down, stepping out of the fabric, she throws her plaid dress on the couch. She strips out of her lacy choking corset and breathes in a few deep breaths.
"Ah, I ate too much. I felt like I was being choked like a thanksgiving turkey," Agnes whispers to the company in her presence.
She had abandoned her hat somewhere in the Royal foyer and has no intention of finding it again.
"S-s-should I be of any help, Your H-Highness?" Humerah stutters, probably flustered by the suddenness of Agnes' actions. She was new to serving the royalty first hand, having only worked in the kitchens and as a cleaning lady before. But, she was good at what she did, entertaining and youthful, when she wasn't distracted by comics, and that made her an efficient choice for the young princess.
"Oh, it's quite alright, if you don't mind, please search for some breeches and shirts in my closet," Agnes smiles at Humerah while Belladonna quickly closes the doors behind her.
Agnes quickly strips down to nothing whilst Humerah finds the clothes of her choice. After dressing up in some comfortable pigeon blue breeches and a soft white shirt, and totally disregarding any need of undergarments, whatsoever, Agnes feels her soul to be at rest again.
This is good. Comfort is home.
"Ah, this feels nice!" Agnes chirps, jumping onto her bed and pulls out a periwinkle pouch of peanuts from the bedside drawer. "Say, where did you people put my work stuff at?"
"Is it the astronomy charts and all the different tools you are talking about, Your Highness?" Humerah questions, bouncing from one end of the room to another.
Agnes nods affirmative.
For the next few hours or so the Princess had successfully ruined the perfect face of her room with the help of inkstains, random clothes, peanuts and an uncountable number of draft papers finding home on every flat surface of the place.
Belladonna had been patiently standing by, stiff as a board, as Agnes pops another peanut in her mouth while staring at a chart of Jupiter's movement when a sudden thought interrupts her calculations.
"Say, Belladonna, what do you know about the Crown Prince?"
The tall ravenette falls into a curtsy before answering, "He's been at the Gale Castle ever since he was two-years in age, Your Highness."
"When was he born?" Agnes asks, rustling through a few papers and picking up another chart, of Mars.
"Crown Prince, Zephyrus Baldric Elstan, Wind of the Empyrean Dawn Ark, His Justice, was born on November twenty-first," Belladonna iterates again.
Agnes raises an eyebrow, pressing her lips in a straight line.
Though, before she could ask Belladonna why she addresses everyone the way she does—
Humerah bursts through the white wood doors announcing, "Your Highness! Crown Prince has left for the Faber Meadows! It has been raided by The Nightmongers!"
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