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The WeatherMaker - Prince of Light By Lady Lilium Characters: 5658

Updated: 2018-07-10 12:03

'Leonardo!' Miranda called to the driver. 'Can't you park this thing closer next time?'

'I'm sorry your majesty' the coachman bowed.

'Don't sorry' Miranda snapped back, gesturing for him to stay in his seat as she opened the door herself, allowing the king to crawl in before her. 'Just do it next time.'

She climbed into the carriage after her husband, slamming the door after her and sitting opposite him as the diver snapped the reigns. The carriage jolted into motion as the horse began to trot, heading at a gentle pace back to the palace.

'The council are beginning to notice' Miranda said to him with folded arms. 'If this carries on, it won't be long before they start ripping at each other's throats. If you don't get better soon….'

'I can't make myself better' the king gasped back.

Miranda fell into silence, watching him with a bored expression. She turned away, gazing out of the window, and watching the city pass them by.

'We'll be at the palace soon' she said after a time. 'Do you need to be carried?'

'No' the king whispered. 'I think I can make it.'

They trundled onwards. Miranda saw the city around her as they went, with the cold grey stone that made up the buildings that looming over them, built tall and close together. It was suffocating. She felt eyes in every window, on every street corner.

She hated this city, hated everything about it; hated the common folk, but not as much as she hated her own home.

They stopped before the palace, the driver parking right outside the doors. The queen rose first, opening the door and holding it open for the king as he followed gingerly after her.

She closed the carriage door behind him with a snap, glancing about the palace at the faces that watched them. Above them a few faces of the soldiers that guarded the palace looked down upon her through the windows and balconies. Miranda looked up at them, as her husband entered the palace before her.

'Take the carriage back to the stables' she told the coachman shortly.

'Yes your majesty' Leonardo bowed.

She nodded to him, turning on her heel and striding towards the palace after her husband, slamming the large doors behind her. Across the hall she saw the king slouching away and through an archway, heading to his bedroom that had been moved downstairs some weeks ago, to save him the trouble of climbing the stairs. And in this palace there were many.

Miranda huffed deeply, making her way towards the nearest stairs and lifting the skirt of her dress as she began to stomp her way up.

The palace was a tall building, and if one wanted to get anywhere in it, most likely they would have to climb either up or down a set of stairs. From a distance, the palace looked as if it were made of glass, built with many towers, topped with sharp steeples that

grew high into the sky like spears. A pale and in some places transparent building, that almost looked as if it had been built on the clouds, alongside the angels that sang there, a place where the seven gods themselves might live.

Many people would call this palace striking, ornate, eloquent and breathtaking.

Miranda would call it boring.

She thought to herself as she climbed in circles higher and higher up the palace stairs, how many levels the palace might have. She wondered to herself, and came to one clear conclusion.

Too many.

At long last and after becoming a little breathless, Miranda reached the correct floor.

Letting her gloved hand slip off the glass balustrade, she let her skirt go, stepping down the corridor and heading towards one of the closed doors in sight. A large door painted white with a grey spider pattern engraved upon it.

She reached the door and opened it without pause, standing in the doorway with her hand still on the handle.

Inside were two boys, twins, seven years in age. They both glanced up at her as the door to their bedroom opened.

'Are you boys alright?' she asked

'Yes mother' Cam looked up smiling, holding a large brightly coloured ball in his hands.

'We're soldiers!' the other twin Luke called out happily, marching on the spot with a real soldier's helmet that was far too big for him upon his head, and a wooden sword resting against his shoulder.

'Is father back?' Cam asked her, dropping the ball which rolled away and moving closer to her.

'Yes. But I don't want you seeing him. He needs his rest. Just stay here and…play or something…' she closed the door after her, leaving swiftly without another word.

Miranda stepped lightly down the corridor, heading to her own room where her handmaiden was waiting for her.

She strode through the door briskly, marching up to her dresser and sitting in the seat heavily before it. Behind her, her handmaiden closed her bedroom door swiftly, before returning to her side in silence. Miranda's stared at herself in the mirror, her long blonde hair was glossy and bright, wavy and beautiful. Looking this way made herself in general prettier.

She hated it.

Miranda lifted her hand to her wig, pulling it off. She always wore her wig in public. Her natural hair beneath was jet black like both her sons, and short. She had hacked it off herself, it was cut uneven lengths and looked scruffy.

Her handmaiden took the wig that was offered to her, returning it to its place on the mannequin which sat upon the dresses. As she did so, Miranda rose from her seat to stand, pushing her chair back. She removed her gloves slowly, one after the other, revealing lines of scars that ran up both her arms. Always when she was in public, like her natural hair, she would hide these too.

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