How to court a storm | 𝘈𝘯 𝘐𝘴𝘦𝘬𝘢𝘪 𝘕𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭

(47)

My new home...

I stand on the balcony of this vast estate, gazing out at the sprawling expanse that is now mine. The castle before me is a grand edifice, but it has clearly suffered from neglect.

The walls are marred with the passage of time, and the windows, though once grand, are now tarnished with grime and abandonment. As I step onto the balcony, the stone beneath my feet creaks in protest, echoing the castle's long history of wear and tear.

I turn away from the view and step into the dimly lit corridor that leads into the heart of this forgotten and incomplete castle. The walls are lined with aged bricks, and the air carries a faint, musty scent.  I run my fingers along the rough surface of the brick, feeling the history that seeps from every pore. A blood history at that...

How many nobles have died in this place?

Walking deeper into the castle, the echoing footsteps of my boots reverberate through the empty halls. Dust motes dance in the slivers of light that filter through the grimy windows. The silence is oppressive, and I can't help but wonder for a moment how well my plans will go now that i'm here, and this castle is no longer abandoned.

The rooms seem endless, each with its own unique character in sizing and shape, lacking in furniture and adornments beyond cobwebbed chairs and tables, though all are equally in need of attention. Some are grand and opulent, with ornate ceilings and chandeliers that have long lost their lustre. 

Others are smaller and more modest, their faded wallpaper peeling away from the walls. I pass by rooms that were once undoubtedly used for grand banquets and others that seem more suited for quiet contemplation before the beast hoard began to overrun the country, and the nobles either died or fled, along with the numerous monarchies that once existed.

I pause in one of the larger rooms, its windows offering a view of the vast open land that stretches behind the castle. The once-manicured gardens have grown wild, and the fountain in the centre has long ceased to flow. I observe it with a lack of interest, knowing that while this may be my new home, it will serve a purpose. It is not a sight for sore eyes, but it will perhaps be soon with care and a vision.

My footsteps take me through more corridors, each turn revealing another hidden corner of this sprawling estate. It's a maze of forgotten history, and I am determined to bring it back to life. As I walk, I imagine the renovations, the restoration, and the transformation that will be required to revive this place to its former glory.

I reach the end of one particularly long hallway and find myself at the entrance to a library. The door swings open with a protesting creak, and I step into a room that takes my breath away. The shelves are lined with books, their spines bearing the weight of knowledge accumulated over centuries. They look as if they haven't been touched for quite a while.

Dusty volumes sit in silent anticipation, waiting for someone to once again turn their pages. I approach a window that offers a view of the estate's vast backyard, and I can't help but smile. I barely notice that i'm doing so at first, but it dawns on me soon after.

I'm engrossed in my exploration of the library when a soft, almost imperceptible rustle of fabric draws my attention. I turn to find Six standing at the room's entrance. She's wearing her usual long robes, the attire she has come to prefer since our escape from the brink of death. Her customary mask, the one she's kept on for as long as I've known her, is conspicuously absent.

For a rare time, I can clearly see Six's face in its entirety. Her ethereal beauty is striking-pink hair cascading like a shimmering waterfall near her pale, unblemished skin. Her eyes, a shade of ruby that has always captivated me, hold a certain warmth and fondness that her mask had concealed.