[fancypost borderwidth=0px; text-transform: lowercase; font-family: times new roman; text-align: right; letter-spacing: -2px; font-size: 22pt; width: 460px][color=black]♥ ― tara marie lynne ![/fancypost]
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"LIKE THE LIGHT I'M LURING YOU"
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[fancypost bgcolor=transparent; bordercolor=transparent; margin-top: auto; margin-left: auto; width: 440px; ][justify][size=8][font=times new roman][color=white]A moist fog always met the dawn at the castle near Annecy. This low cloud hung nearest the emerald fields surrounding the massive home. The castle itself was constructed of caen limestone, which had been weathered for over a century. The same family had lived in that building for years, with each generation passing the rights onto their offspring. The position had been fought over, because the prime placement was one to feud about. It was settled over the water of a crystal lake where trophy game often chose to quench their thirst. The walls stood high and sturdy, having been fortified by wood and stone from the inside. The lengthy, cobblestone bridge led to the front gate, which rose and fell as the master keeper pleased. Two guards were on watch behind this barrier, while others roamed the inside courtyard.
“Marie? Où êtes-vous?”
The voice echoed throughout the dark corridor, belonging to a housemaid of the estate. Within a flash, brunette hair was being combed with a brush her late husband had carved from a wise Oak. ”Ici!” She called, bumping open the double doors of her chambre. She took her silk ribbon and laced her mane into a ponytail. Her locks still fell down her back, even though their movement was currently limited by their bondage. ”I require five more minutes, Odelle!” There was a late start to her schedule this morning, as her father had allowed her to catch an extra hour of sleep. She was going to need it for the gathering tonight.
After she slipped on a casual surcoat and gown threaded of linen, Marie hurried down the hallway to the grand foyer. Her lessons for the day consisted of harpsichord for an hour, then poetry combined with calligraphy until high noon. Her musical instructor was running late, leaving the bored young woman to wander around the castle’s interior. She stole fruit from the kitchen, biting into the savory, scarlet apple as she walked barefoot to the back lot. The stables were located a two minute’s walk South down a pathway. Taking her chance, Marie slunk into the shadows, where she disappeared through an ancient archer’s ground window. The woman ran, a grin on her face, the lifting fog filling her lungs. She didn’t stop until she stumbled into a stable boy turning the corner of the barn. ”Sorry, Sir.” She murmured, offering the younger man a smirk before she slipped away to the pens.
The horses had always been her friends. Like many little girls, she always wanted a pony instead of a new tea set. She craved dirt under her nails, not precious silks and furs donned upon her body. This secret passion was kept from her father, yet shared with her best friend.
“You’re in here late, Mademoiselle.” A man approached her from behind, curling his strong arms around the woman’s waist. He tugged her against his chest, resting his chin on her shoulder. “Sinclair and I were afraid you were hurt. You haven’t missed a day in three years.”
”I sincerely apologize for that, Jasper.” Marie giggled, pulling away from the brute. Jasper was her most treasured friend, and was the one who had taught her all about equines. He came from a family of farmers, but currently lived on her property in return for his service. ”Where is Sinclair, may I ask? I passed his quarters and he was gone.”
“The messenger chose him for the job; he’ll be tired tomorrow. That gives you a chance to treat him softly like you always do. He’ll appreciate it better.” Jasper stepped away from Marie, his tawny eyes drinking in the features of her face which he’d memorized so well.
”Is that so? I suppose I will head back, then. I do not deserve another scolding from my father.” Marie turned away, strutting along the dirt pathway.
Sinclair was a fine steed. He was noir-- darker than any sickening black a human could stand to bear. He had deep chocolate eyes that would fire up when he got into a mood, and melt when he recognized you as a friend. He was a mutt of a horse, not having any pure bloodlines. He came from a draft family, as he was tall and muscular with feathers decorating his legs. He was the first horse Marie had ever known; her first ride, her first shoeing, her first brushing… He was the equine who had grown up with her for the last seven years. She refused to look at any other until he was gone.
Her harpsichord lesson went as usual. She played like she had feet instead of hands; feigning stupidity for the chuckles wasn’t helping her distasteful situation. Her musical professor, who undoubtedly wished to wed her, never gave up on her. They’d been practicing together for eight months without a pinch of improvement. After he left, her literature teacher arrived with a new book for her. Reading was something she heavily despised… Albeit, writing sparked her interest. In her best calligraphy, she wrote tales of heroic sparrows saving whole kingdoms. She often envisioned a goofy scenario in her head, then recorded it on paper for her teacher to read over later. He too fancied her, and often complimented her on her creativity. The older men were only after her riches, while the younger suitors were only after a natural and dirty night of dancing.
Marie retired to her room for the remainder of the day. Jasper would be working, Sinclair was out for the day, her father had last second details to organize, and if she headed down to the servants the women would teach her how to clean and cook. She found it unfair for society to simply place all of these intentions on her. She’d never be a mother, no matter how hard she tried, which meant no man wanted her as a wife. What was the point of preparing meals and tidying up the home if it would be her and a husband? No children to raise nor look after. These negative realizations had grown on her over the past year of being alone. She was twenty one and a widow. Girls her age already had at least two children by now. She’d already married late, and was childless. She wasn’t good for anything but being an heir for a fortune.
Locked in the bedroom section of the castle, she bathed for an hour to help pass the time. The party would truly commence at dusk, with the guests arriving before sundown. The brunette was fitted into her corset and undergarments minutes prior to the sun setting. A maid tied the back, while another fetched her kirtle. Her gown that evening was simple-- a figure-hugging burgundy dress with golden fringes and stitching. To complete the look, she adorned a ruby circlet. She stepped into her common flat shoes (they would be hidden beneath the gown, anyway), the original maid combing out her hair down her back.
Whinnies and snorts from beasts entering the gates into the courtyard caught her intrigue. Marie glued herself to her stained glass window, the distorted and colorful figures of people emerging from elegant carriages. Women in pretentious dresses, men with high trousers and white socks, and even a canine or two accompanying them every few guests or so. The maids scattered from her room, leaving her to her private business. She stared at her reflection in her blown-glass mirror, adjusting the circlet that hung across her forehead. Parties weren’t something that was novel. Her father loved to treat his friends to intoxicated social gatherings. She never took a sip of alcohol after Benjamin’s death, rather using it as a learning experience than something to mourn over any longer. She had loved the man dearly despite the beatings and yelling she received. She understood he’d been frustrated with her incapability to function as they both prayed.
The trouble gone into the party had paid off. A glorious table of various foods sat out in the compact ballroom for all to enjoy. Decorations of fresh flowers and vines were along the walls, and draped or placed anywhere possible. When the brunette arrived in the main room, it was currently filling with bodies. Her father was nowhere to be seen! The sun was gone by then, leaving the illumination of multiple chandeliers, fireplaces, and torches to be the source of light and heat. The sharp scent of spices shot into her nostrils, causing her nose to twitch in disgust. Perfumes from distilled herbal oils never appealed to her. She always stuck to a scent of roses that she wore herself.
Walking around the crowded castle caused her to raise a bit of attention to herself. Greetings from strangers were thrown at her, all that she politely replied to. Was she expected to know anyone here other than her father? There were no familiar faces in the ocean. She escaped to the corner of the room, pausing to take a break from the hype. Everything was happening so swiftly that she wasn’t keeping track of time nor surroundings. Cerulean eyes raked upward, being greeted by a fellow azure stare in her direction. These cool optics contrasted well against warm apricot locks, which in all honesty she had never seen before. Her heart instantaneously accelerated, thundering hard in her chest out of anxiety. The figure of a man vanished after a woman in a large headdress had blocked her view of him.
Who had that been? Marie bit her lip, thumbs twiddling behind her back. She needed to breathe. Her lungs felt as though they were going to collapse under the sudden pressure her straining heart produced. She wove through the crowd, pushing and shoving until she made it to the front door. From the courtyard she veered off into the garden, where a short maze was wound into a curl. The tips of her fingers brushed the towering hedges as she hurried to the center, orbs widened in alarm. She made it to a small pond surrounded by fresh roses. This was her personal rose garden, because if you couldn’t make an educated guess, they were her favorite flowers. The symbolism behind them had captured her attention, allowing the blossoms a special seat in her heart.
A full moon shone that night, reflecting upon the minuscule pond’s ebony surface. Being suffocated by a herd of humans caused her to hallucinate. Was that an apparition she saw in there? Was it her imagination? If the mysterious man had been real… The explanation of his quick disappearance made absolutely zero sense in her mind. She was a fool, wasn’t she? None of this nonsense. Her father would send her off to become a nun if he heard her talking of such demonic presences. The young lady circled the pond, humming a sweet tune to attract any creatures that may be living in it. Frogs often made their homes in the water. Amphibians loved to sing, correct? She had no luck with performing a duet with a slimy creature.
Everything was oddly tranquil with the silence. Marie collected the skirt of her dress, holding it as she exited the maze. There was no use of her going back to the party. She would rather be in the stables with the horses. The company of an animal promised to soothe her. Off she went through the archer’s window, and down the path to the barn. As if a haunting lullaby was sounding from the lake, she halted to tilt her head toward the vast stage of water. The tender waves hitting the shore enticed her, causing her to alter her course. She arrived at the water’s edge, head tilted toward the sky. Dark clouds rolled over the moon, threatening to pour rain upon her head.
This also gave her cover in the night. She picked the circlet from her head, setting it beside the shoes she kicked off. Shamelessly came her gown, tugging it off over her head. Her hands reached behind her back, fiddling with the string of the corset. Once loosened, the article of clothing fell to the pebbly floor. Lastly, she removed her undergarments to stand there in her full glory.
One step, two steps, three… Marie had no idea what she was doing. She was in a trance with the freezing liquid. Something compelled her into the lakewater. Her exposed skin grew rough with goosebumps, the hair sticking up on her arms to further indicate the temperature. Her palms were pressed against her breasts, cupping them to help brave the cold.
She just stood there. Gazing into the murky water, breathing, contemplating.
// i hope this was okay c: so obviously jamie was the weirdo she saw for a second but then he disappeared. i guess he can just follow her out and be like "wtf are you doing bitch have some respect put yo clothes back on you skank" cx but in a nicer way lmao
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