She loved to dance. There was truly nothing else she loved to do more, and frankly nothing else TO do. The room was expansive, large enough to fit all the people in the paintings that lined it's walls. The pictures of swirling debutantes and couples, making their way across the faded canvas were her connection to the world outside that she had yet to see. Here, at fifteen years of age, she had never once known the feel of wind, the smell of dirt under her fingernails, the touch of water on her toes. She would pick up the end of her skirt and place her hand on the shoulder of an imaginary partner that would hold her close, and whisk her around an adorned ballroom she had made for herself. She would spend hours down there, imagining herself among the dukes and lords she was born to be courted by.
And indeed she was. Born a princess, she dreamt of one day leading the life of the princesses she'd been told about. Born out of wedlock however, she was locked away by parents she had only met periodically. Her parents being the King and Queen. She would sit on an insect ridden ladder and stare at their frayed portrait daily. She noticed how cold they looked. As if they hadn't loved a child in their life. Which, although she neglected to admit it, was undeniably true. She had been down there since she was a babe, cared for by various retinues to the royal family. She was never lonely. Which is strange you would think. 17 years in a damask storage room and you must yearn for human interaction. But she knew nothing else. She didn't know what it felt like to be held. To be caressed and she accepted it. In fact she loved it. But, she did want for the day that her parents would announce her existence, introduce her to the world that had ignored her for so long.
Meet the Hidden Blood.
- Clare ✍
P.S. That's right, we write too ✌
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