From Grief to Colour| ✓

XIV- Mistletoe Gift

The sun is setting in an hour but the ominous fear of the threat made in the newest letter burns into my heart.

'It may be a beautiful day now, but I hope you keep your dear traditions alive. Watch the moon, for it may flicker in the memory of your reflection. Watch it or at darkness's high, twelve shall go into the night.' I recite.

Already dressed into a snowy lace A-line dress with off the shoulder sleeves to match the occasional theme, I pace across the castle and into the Beta front courtyard, where the festival is being set up at.

Seeing the multiple swarms of people fleeing left and right to get everything up, my mind gets flooded with the feeling of the people here, my magic pulling on their emotional aura, feelings of stress, excitement, concern- basically my emotions are getting pulled everywhere.

And I'm surrounded.

Breathing heavily and tired and strained from the multiple emotions at such intensity, I compose myself and ran off to the north east entrance to the orchard, to cool my mind off.

Hearing only small murmurs of the setup now, I walk over to the orchard to pick an apple, walking over to the bench, staring at the shiny smooth skin tinted with the colour of rich blood.

"My Queen."

I turn my head a little, spying a long maroon cape flowing besides the familiar glare of the sun reflecting off chainmail in small doses of sparkles.

"Trevor." I whisper. The bench proceeds to sway under our weight as he settles himself down next to me.

"What's wrong? You should be overlooking the preparations for the Mistletoe Dusking Festival. The sun is about to set."

I sigh. I know that as Queen, I am to look over the events as it's my and the people's way of offering to the Spirits of the Seasons for the harvest and to start off with a great time, because royals are seen to be picked by gods, so that's why people always include royals into events. To invite the gods.

"Trevor...."

He leans in, listening.

"...I'm worried that this is gonna become a murder fest."

Shocked, he slowly pries me up to face him, his fingers delicate in tilting my chin up. He is careful with his movements, not wanting to do anything too suggestive. "How can you think that?"

I swallow my throat before answering, "The Omissionary." I turn back to my apple that's sitting in my hand. "They threaten me on a level that if I don't act the way as they want me to be, they will slaughter again." Prickling of emotion starts to touch upon the back of my eyes, my nose starting to flare up with fear and tears. What am I now? A royal mess, who is constantly crying.

"How will I protect them this time?" I voice out loud, looking dejectedly towards the mountainous landscape. "Sciros is barren now. And I...I don't remember the traditions that they are asking for. It's too...vague. And my magic is barely controllable at doing non-traditional magic. And my sister...she always protected me."

I bite on my lip, "I guess it proves how much I rely on her to remain on the throne, I suppose." My voice falters. I sneak a look at him, who gazes at me with patience and sympathy. "I'm sorry-" I sigh, "- I'm being a mess again. I-I'm never like this, but ever since...my sister has..."

"Oh." His eyes pan down to his feet, reminded of how I always tell of my sister's death. "I never got to actually ask...but your sister...was she kind?"

A small smirk traces its way on my lips, "Yeah...she was the best. Strong and wise. Respectable and caring. Sociable to a point, but nevertheless an amazing speaker. All the qualities of a leader, which I suppose are the qualities I'm suppose to have. But what does the kingdom get? A queen who sobs in her sorrow? Or a ruler fair and good? How am I supposed to not fall under the manipulation of the Omissionary? Their words hit me like arrows to the heart: and they hurt."