A Lord Rekindled

A Day to be Remembered...

The early morning was rough.

I woke up, my hair in a giants rats nest, and all over the place. I groaned, feeling to tired to get up, and I fell back asleep.

Of course, the maids had to come in and get my day started for me.

They came in, lined up perfectly, and following behind my personal bodyguard, Gregor Cleagane

Gregor Cleagane was a kind, loving man, who would more likely give you a bouquet of roses than cut off your appendages. But threaten anyone of the royal family, me in particular, he'd not hesitate to remove the heads of the perpetrators. He was tall, taller than most men, hailing from a family of experienced woodsmen and blacksmiths, but chose the way of war and blood, and brown hair, gray strands throughout, with a pair of gentle blue eyes that gave him his giant teddy bear heart. He was quite muscular, and Upon him was the armor of the Kingsguard, plain steel, with a cape made of chain mail, with the Sigil of the Stalsworth House, a great Stag, it's antlers surrounding the sun, emblazoned upon the chest piece and helm, the latter of which was under his arm. On his back, was his spear, which he named Arbiter, after the great spear of the God of War and Victory. He smiled gently at me, glad to see me awake.

"Wake up, my dear. Its time for you to get ready." An older maid, Freya, stepped forward, presenting a rather intricate dress- silk, dyed red, covered all but the shoulders and the top of the chest, trimmed with gold along the top, bottom, and along the sides, with a red wool cloak over it, the House sigil embroidered on the back with gold twin around it. She held it in one hand, and in the other, my corset, a vile creation my mother made me wear. She was as old as my grandmother was, who had died of the pox a few years back. She had gray hair sprouting from the top of her head, which grandmother often said was once pale blonde, but shimmered like gold in the sunlight, a hunched form, due to the long years of service to the Stalsworth Family, and a pair of dark blue, almost lilac eyes that seemed to put you at ease when they came upon you. She wore a gown, nowhere near as elegant as the one she held, patched up in several places, but had a very beautiful pearl necklace, which grandmother had told me was given to her as a maid when she was first married. Freya and my grandmother where very close friends, due to them growing up together, when her father, my great-grandfather on my fathers, was king. She had always been nice to me, seeing much of my grandmother more so in me than my sister. "You need to get up so you can be ready to welcome your betrothed." I groaned loudly as she said 'betrothed.'

"Leave me alone, please Freya. You know for a fact that I absolutely hate getting in that damn thing," I said, glancing towards the corset, "and much more so meeting my 'betrothed'," I said, making quotation symbols with my fingers, "Only to get rid of them and have Mother and Father search for another." I spun around on my knees and threw my face into the feather pillow beneath me

"I know my dear, but you must. It would be indecent for you to just walk out-" Freya was interrupted by another woman, much younger, and dressed like stereotypical royalty in the south. Her dress was of gold-tinted silk, wrapping around her form, with ease, except for her belly, which was a little swollen. Her hair was tied back and held in a band with a metal piece on top, shaped like a dancing flame, and her hands folded over her stomach. Her skin was pale, except for a few spots, where it was red with sunburn, and a pair of dark brown eyes . "Is she ready, Freya? She truly must hurry, as the Prince will arrive any minute now."

"Almost, Lady Loriel; she will be ready in just a moment." Freya said, almost worryingly.

"Good." Loriel said. She turned to me, and looked me directly in the eye. "I dont see why you arent excited. I was ecstatic when I got to meet my husband. Cheer up sister." She smiled at me.