Post by Prince Sabriel de Trevalion on Oct 14, 2006 3:43:34 GMT -5
I was looking out the window of my room at the White Hart, watching people pass by below. My eyes found and followed an old woman. She deftly moved through the crowd, somehow managing to neither bump into anyone nor get trampled in the madness and yet at the same time, she was moving so leisurely compared to everyone else around her. She looked happy, or atleast peaceful. I wondered what her life had been like when she was young; who knows, she could have been an adept, though one wouldn’t guess that from the way she looked now. I wondered what she thought of the world now, if she liked what it has become or wished things were different.
I turned away from the window, shutting it soundly behind me. I had better things to do than people-watch and allow such thoughts. Exhaling slowly, I made my way to the desk where parchment and ink awaited my attention. I pulled out the chair and sat down, taking up the quill and dipping it in the ink. In flowing letters, I wrote my request for an audience with Sabrina. I didn’t specify the reason for my visit, merely writing that there was a certain matter I wanted to discuss with her. Signing it, I wrote Your Cousin, Sabriel de Trevalion. It was strange to call her cousin; I think I’d met her twice, maybe three times, at some family occasion or another a very long time ago. I wondered if she’d forgotten there had been a second Trevalion son, or if she had heard I’d come back.
Reaching up to my neck, I unclasped the necklace I usually wore. On it was the Trevalion signet ring I had had since as long as I could remember. It’d hated it not long ago; a tangible image of the family that had left me and a twin to the one August wore. Now, I didn’t mind it; it reminded me of Azzalle, the Azzalle I had treasured like a lover in my youth. I missed Azzalle and I longed to see it, but I couldn’t leave the City. I had too much still to do. Melting wax onto the folded letter, I pressed the seal into the drying wax. I spent more than a few seconds just staring at the seal, lost somewhere in the darkness of my mind. A fleeting thought came to me, wondering if Sabrina may initially think the letter was from August. After all, it was the same seal. I shook my head, coming back to myself. I stood from the chair, taking the letter and going downstairs to the tavern. I found the stable boy, gave him the letter and a few ducats, telling him to deliver the letter to the Palace. He gave an eager grin and nodded, rushing out the door. With nothing left to do but wait for a response, I went back to my room, seeking to catch the ever illusive sleep.
I turned away from the window, shutting it soundly behind me. I had better things to do than people-watch and allow such thoughts. Exhaling slowly, I made my way to the desk where parchment and ink awaited my attention. I pulled out the chair and sat down, taking up the quill and dipping it in the ink. In flowing letters, I wrote my request for an audience with Sabrina. I didn’t specify the reason for my visit, merely writing that there was a certain matter I wanted to discuss with her. Signing it, I wrote Your Cousin, Sabriel de Trevalion. It was strange to call her cousin; I think I’d met her twice, maybe three times, at some family occasion or another a very long time ago. I wondered if she’d forgotten there had been a second Trevalion son, or if she had heard I’d come back.
Reaching up to my neck, I unclasped the necklace I usually wore. On it was the Trevalion signet ring I had had since as long as I could remember. It’d hated it not long ago; a tangible image of the family that had left me and a twin to the one August wore. Now, I didn’t mind it; it reminded me of Azzalle, the Azzalle I had treasured like a lover in my youth. I missed Azzalle and I longed to see it, but I couldn’t leave the City. I had too much still to do. Melting wax onto the folded letter, I pressed the seal into the drying wax. I spent more than a few seconds just staring at the seal, lost somewhere in the darkness of my mind. A fleeting thought came to me, wondering if Sabrina may initially think the letter was from August. After all, it was the same seal. I shook my head, coming back to myself. I stood from the chair, taking the letter and going downstairs to the tavern. I found the stable boy, gave him the letter and a few ducats, telling him to deliver the letter to the Palace. He gave an eager grin and nodded, rushing out the door. With nothing left to do but wait for a response, I went back to my room, seeking to catch the ever illusive sleep.