The morning had dawned clear and cold, bearing a crispness that hinted at the end of summer. The men had set off at nightfall to escort their guests safely to the Durham House. Behind the House, a young girl lay in the wet sand, jolting awake as a wave of cold water hit her face. Celia pressed her fingers into the sand, spitting out the seashells that had taken residency in her mouth.
She laughed. This was the first time she had spent a full night outside, having fallen asleep as the sun fell.
Her face bore a childish smile as the sun pierced her bright blue eyes. It was the thirtieth day of summer, and the fourteenth year of Celia's life.
The sun shone bright, hovering just over the sea. As if it was smiling back at the girl.
Celia crawled back against a large rock, watching the waves crash into each other, as she always did. She sat there for hours, same as she would every morning of summer. The young girl had a tendency of sneaking out of the manor and exploring, whether that be laying in the field or watching the sun set on a cold summer morning. She rubbed her hand across her soaked clothes, wondering.
The girl recalled something, something important. But what was it?
A loud bell rang in the distance, startling Celia.
"Balls!" She shrieked. Her hands propelled her up, as she began sprinting for the House. The girl clumsily held up her dress as she ran in order to not trip over her finely crafted garments. Celia remembered what her parents told her about; the visit of the Drakenward family.
The girl huffed as she thrusted herself against the castle walls. She stood there for a second, hands on her knees before awkwardly pushing herself through the kitchen window. Celia was in luck; entering through the First Kitchen and not the other, as the Second Kitchen was filled with servants preparing Drakenward meals.
Her footsteps sounded loud through the House as she waggled over to the rounded stairs, leaving a puddle behind her that grew with every step she took.
By the work of a miracle she managed to make it to her room unseen, swiftly undressing and drying herself off. She had done it again. "Celia!" Someone knocked on her door. "Coming!" She shouted at the door while running a comb through her long dark hair. "Hurry!" Her sister groaned through the door. "I said I'm coming, Lexie!" Celia sighed.
Lexie could hear the comb being thrown against a mirror from behind the door as Celia gave up and tied a knot in her hair. The girl felt the sharp insides of her dress poke her skin as she dove into it. "Celia, come on." A deep voice spoke from behind the door. "I said I was coming!" Celia ripped open the door, her dress loosely hanging over her body as she wriggled her arms into place.
"Behave yourself will ya?" Mayne smiled. "Maybe I will, maybe I won't." Celia grinned.
Mayne grabbed his sister by both shoulders and turned her around. "Let's go."
The Drakenward and Durham Families were a generation spanning duo, aiding one another with any problem they must have had. Lord Durham and Lord Drakenward even fought beside each other in the war, aiding their victory.
But their last visit since the war had been long ago, and both men had aged considerably since then. Alongside the well needed reunion, there was a matter of discussion between the two...
An important one.