A broad smile graced the woman's face as she approached. All eyes on her.
Marlowe shifted her look of awe, from around the Palace, to the woman who had paused their tour, to see her gazing at her with a wide smile.
She inwardly pondered on who the lady might be.
Perhaps, the King's mother?
"Greetings, My Lady,"
She immediately dispelled the thought, hearing how she was addressed by the maids.
Upon closing in, the lady dressed in regal attire made a stop in front of her.
The maid had long shifted aside.
"Greetings, My Lady," Marlowe greeted, neutrally imitating what the other maids did.
Her head was still lowered in a bow when she felt hands on her shoulder supporting her to rise.
She raised her eyes to the woman's face with anxiousness in her heart, recalling the rules she had always heard; 'Do not look royalty in the eyes.'
But she was doing just that.
Fortunately, the wide smile on the woman's face had not diminished, instead it stretched wider.
"Nice choice," she said, roaming her gaze around Marlowe's face in appeal.
"seems like that cold lord really does everything in the favor of his master."
Everything she said sounded like a puzzle to Marlowe, so she just quietly stood and watched as she scrutinized her.
"Such innocence," the lady said, reaching her hand to her face, she hung it mid air, before the appeal in her eyes was replaced with concern—as if she remembered something.
"Can I, Your Majesty?" she asked, surprising Marlowe.
'Oh no! Not her too.' Marlowe thought.
Seeing the hopeful glint brimming in the lady's eyes, Marlowe choicelessly nodded with bewilderment.
She felt her hand on one side of her cheeks.
"You're beautiful," the woman muttered slowly.
"Thank you, My Lady," Marlowe voiced submissively, her gaze now unconcentrated on the floor.
"Oh no, dear. You should call me aunt," the woman said, with excitement dancing in the corners of her eyes.
"Aun—" perplexed, the word hung in her throat. Marlowe discreetly eyed her in a meticulous manner.
She didn't know who this woman was, but it seems she bore no evil intentions towards her.
Still on the safe side, Marlowe silently stood. The silence became awkward. More so, with the smile on the woman's face.
"Come, I'll like to have tea with you," all of a sudden, her hand was held, but then dropped with what she could perceive as reluctance.
Marlowe looked at her face, catching the excited look vanishing, abruptly being replaced by that earlier look of concern, laced with hope shining in her dark grey eyes.
"Can I? Your Majesty?" The lady sought consent.
For heaven's sake, Marlowe couldn't understand why an elegant and graceful woman such as her, would be so anxious and nervous to speak to her.
In fact, between them both, she was more deserving to be called this title that she had continuously used to address her; and with such respect, when the lady herself was old enough to be her mother.
"Y—yes," she murmured softly, not sure of her response herself.
"Great then," A pleased giggle erupted from the Lady.
"this way to the garden. It isn't good to keep the Queen standing for long." she said, as she led the way, side by side with Marlowe. And their maids trailing behind.
It was a refreshing sight in the late of dawn.
The blossoming flowers that spread the gardens gave off a relaxing feeling that, for a moment, made her forget her somberness.
In the middle of the vast and beautiful garden, was situated a lengthy table and a few royal chairs under a nice gazebo tangled with vines of many coloured flowers.
Marlowe couldn't help but imagine how the spot would look at night time, under the moonlight, with a calm breeze blowing around.
The light, illuminating the beauty of the flowers.
The thought brought an unconscious smile to her lip that she couldn't restrain.
"You're such a pretty girl," the voice of the lady woke her from her daze.
Marlowe blinked, and immediately her smile froze before ceasing away.
She timidly lowered her head, not sure what to say to the compliment.
Only for soft fingers to graze her chin, raising it to eye's length.
"Come, let's go," she said, heading towards the sit-out.
Sweet snacks and refreshments were provided by the maids as they settled down.
The ambiance was perfect for tea, as the lady proposed. But along with the little snacks came Marlow's plight as she was unable to use her cutleries.
And it didn't go unnoticed by the lady, a smile eluded her lips. "Here," she notified, gesturing with hers.
Marlowe watched intently.
"You hold this with your left, yeah, like that," she calmly told. "and this, yea—no no, this way," she bursted into laughter from the way Marlowe held her fork. As if she was going to stab someone with it.
Astonished, Marlowe primed her lips in embarrassment, her cheeks turning a deep shade of pink. But the woman's laughter hadn't stopped, gazing at her, she realized that she was an easy going person, naturally, she found herself giggling along with her.
Seeing this, the woman's laughter slowly came to a cease, reduced into a smile as she looked at Marlowe with appeal in her eyes.
Noticing this, Marlowe awkwardly ceased her laughter as well, shyly pursing her lips.
A chuckle came from the woman, detecting the girl's reserved nature. She decided to speak, "What's your name, pretty lady?" she quizzed with a kind smile.
Marlowe looked up at her, she was dubious at first, but remembering the lady's kind temperament, she slowly responded, "I'm called Marlowe, My Lady," she said with a curt bowing gesture.
Seeing this, the lady's likeness for her grew more. "Marlowe…" she uttered, as if testing the name. "From the hill by the lake," she interpreted with a smile. "also meaning home." you have a nice name, Mar—Your Majesty,"
Catching the glitch in her statement, Marlowe's brows flickered uncomfortably. "Please, you can call me by my name," she awkwardly muttered.
"Only if you call me aunt," The lady immediately threw a bargain.
Astounded, Marlowe blinked at her, with surprise dancing in her beguiling irises. Spotting a smile on the woman's face, she hastily lowered her gaze to her meal. Until she heard,
"I'm Eleazar, guardian and aunt to your husband, His Majesty, King Aziel."
The currently picked up fork in Marlowe's hand immediately dropped with a clank. She slowly lifted her gaze to Eleazar, shock vividly seen in them.
So…she's a relative of the King? A Vampire too?
Her eyes widened in fear.