Donovan Castle Chronicles: Volume 1
Welcome to Donovan Castle! Mason and Selene opened their home as a safe haven for supernatural creatures to take refuge. Here they are free to be themselves without being ostracized by society.
Come visit and yo...
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*Day 3
*Spring (April 30)
*Evening
I explore my castle to see what renovations have occurred while I was locked away. I venture down halls and past rooms. Walking through the foyer, I see a couple walking together.
The female has beautiful yet fierce pale green eyes with elbow-length dark-brown hair that frames an angular, angelic face. Her rosy cheeks are apparent upon her very pale skin.
Her male companion has short brown hair, brown eyes, and tanned skin, a stark comparison to her extremely pale hue.
They are both gorgeous and fit, where she's toned, he's muscular. Sprouting from their backs are wings. The female has huge white, brown and black wings that have the lighter brown and white on the back and black and dark brown on the front. The male has tan and white wings.
They're absolutely stunning. They must be some type of angels! They pause abruptly and stare at me in shock. She looks over her shoulder at a portrait of Karev and I that was painted long ago.
The painting is of Karev and me on our wedding day. Karev looked so handsome that day I think, admiring the portrait of him.
The couple looks between that painting and me multiple times. The male frankly states with wide eyes, "You look like Lady Heather Donovan."
I look back at them and gently state, "That's because I am Lady Heather Donovan."
"Then you're a descendant?" Before I can correct him, he continues. "Oh, then your parents must have named you after Lady Heather."
"What?" I shake my head, "No, I am Lady Heather Donovan, my dear."
The female rolls her eyes, "Yeah, sure you are; and I'm the queen of England."
Confusion overtakes me, "You're not the queen. I know...knew the queen. You are definitely not her."
They exchange a look before looking back at me. He furrows his brows, "Which queen do you mean?"
I state which one and they glance at each other again. The female explains that the queen I know is not the current queen of England. Shock overtakes me and I wobble on my ghostly feet. Once I get my bearings, I touch a finger to my temple and then look at them, dumbfounded. "You must be joking."
They both shake their heads simultaneously.
"She isn't the queen any longer?" I ask, double checking.
"No, what year do you think it is?" the female gently asks.
"The Late 1700s?" I question because at the moment, I am no longer sure of myself.
