The smell of oats and caramel enveloped Chrys' nostrils. The sweet and savoury combination of intense sugar and healthy grains would have once enticed her to investigate the kitchens and discuss at length the delicacies with the kitchen staff. All in the hope of receiving one or two of the leftovers.
Today was different, there was no desire, no ache in her stomach, just the overwhelming and painful tug of her heart which appeared to control all of her senses.
She had hardly eaten for the last few moons, and even one of the messenger boys who had taken a shine to her had commented on her shrunken cheeks.
Her dimples, once a visual source of joy appeared devoid of life and her eyes were dark and alone. The toll of being the Nightengale was becoming dangerous for her mental state and Chrys didn't know how much longer she could continue to scheme and plot before her mind started to tear itself into tiny fragments.
Breaking away from her inner dark thoughts, she spotted a kitchen hand staring at her intently. As her eyes glued onto his, he immediately looked down toward the dough he was kneading, eager to press his strong tense wrists into the soft cool mixture.
Chrys didn't recognise him. She had been in this kitchen several times before and she knew everyone by name, their families, and even some of their known allergies, yet this young man was an enigma to her.
He looked up again, causing Chrys to uncontrollably frown, her hardened stare causing the cool blues of the nervous man to return their gaze to the whitened dough.
"Is there a problem young man?"
Chrys wondered where the voice came from, but as her body pushed it's way passed the kitchen boys, she realised that the words had escaped her lips.
"I'm speaking to you, yes you!"
Pointing toward the man who looked fearful as the Nightengale briskly walked up to him, Chrys couldn't believe that she was confronting a man whom she had never met before.
"Why do you keep staring at me?' Chrys demanded.
The man looked around at the others in the room, hoping that someone would come to his rescue, but instead, everyone stared at the girl, half his size but twice his stature staring up at him appearing ready to tear him to pieces with one false word.
"Who are you, why do you keep staring at me? What is your issue?"
The man felt pushed back as Chrys continued to enter his personal space, forcing him against the table despite his eagerness to flee from the conflict.
"I... I... I..." he stuttered, intimidated by the darkened hazel eyes that looked up at him with fury.
"Out with it, man, speak!" Chrys demanded, causing all within the room to reel back from her raised voice.
"Well... uhh... I..."
"You stare at me with those beady blue eyes, yet you are incapable of speech, what is wrong with you man?"
"Miss Sagard, that's my son, he's helping me out for the Queen's arrival."
Chrys immediately reeled back, ashamed at her outburst as she spotted one of the kitchen staff, Harved, move forward, determined to defend his son.
Harved was a man whose biggest vice was that he would occasionally steal a biscuit or two when no one was looking. He was a man who treated Chrys with complete respect and dignity and often gave her the same biscuits that he liked to acquire for himself. A man that had no allegiances, except to his family and closest friends.
Shame forced itself upon Chrys, especially as all eyes were now focused on her. How could she do such an unrecognisable thing?
"Oh god..." Chrys stuttered, her normally graceful voice appearing broken and strained, "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, truly, I'm so sorry."
ESTÁ A LER
Sorceress of the Second Sphere
Fantasia*Recommended that you read Heir to the Empire before Sorceress of the Second Sphere* They won the Battle of Ravenscourt, but the war for the Isovine Empire has only just begun. Loldirr Wraithslayer, the Elemental Sorceress, the true Empress of the I...
