03-06-2012, 11:07 PM
The Princess Cecilia Priscilla Brittany Leontius was exceedingly nervous about the upcoming meeting with the Canines. Or 'Wolves', as they call themselves, she thought snidely, to cover her own fears of failure. She knew that a lot rested on her shoulders- and she was only just turned seventeen.
Stop thinking of that, She reprimanded herself. The ship had already sailed. In fact, she'd already been on the open ocean for days, and had had to fight her tendency toward seasickness for a while now. In a few hours, they'd be at Star Island, also called the Isle of the Ancients. The very thought of that desolate island made her shiver.
If there was any other neutral territory, then I would never have went along with Star Island. It's SO haunted, she thought. Then she chastised herself mentally and got up from her hammock -and the indignity fo that! A hammock instead of a proper bed with feather down!- and went over to the wash basin and mirror. She sighed at her plain face, with its fat nose, sprinkling of freckles, and brown eyes. Her face was round, almost pudgy, and her lips thin. I still look like I'm four, she sighed. Her hair was, in her eyes, her only redeeming feature; it was a true red-gold. Sure, it was often a little frizzy instead of being properly wavy, but she would take what she could get.
She pinned it up as best she could without her hand-maiden -and, really, she was quite sure her father could have spared that expense, at least- and then went up out on the deck. Just was she thought she was going to get seasick again, a voice rang out from the Crow's Nest, saying, “Land, ho!”
She ran to the right- oops, starboard- side of the ship with the rest of the crew, and peered out. There! A thin strip of something different, something that wasn't more goddam.n water. From this distance, it was only a strip of brown, but, really, anything would do.
“Yes!” she called out, punching the air in a most unladylike fashion, causing the crew to stare; they were professionals, and most of them were older than her. They respected her 'officially', but she knew that, behind closed doors, they spoke about her age and immaturity behind her back. She blanched, then blushed in keen embarrassment at her slip-up. As father would say, chin up, shoulders back, spine straight, and stare them down, she counciled herself.
“We wish to change now. Send someone to report when we land,” she said in her most haughty tone before retreating to her cabin. Phew, that was awkward, she thought to herself as she stripped from her day gown to put on her highly embellished, scarlet ceremonial one.
Last edited by spirit_queen : 03-06-2012 at 11:20 PM.