PlasticBottru

Sinthia and The Demon Duke of DeSidea: 7

Added 2019-12-04 23:48:59 +0000 UTC

It was still early morning. The warm light of the sun has just begun to pierce the darkness, flooding the dreary, inky black room with its rejuvenating life. Her eyes were open, staring at nothing. The only thing she heard was the muted tweeting of the morning birds. The cleanliness of life before people woke up. Gradually, she begun to feel. The sheets, the blanket, the stuffy air, the prickling of her hair on the back of her neck. She couldn’t believe they had let her hair lay upon a cotton pillowcase without a satin bonnet on. Disappointing.

But nonetheless, a smile curled her lips. Alive she was alive again. She sat up—an action that she had repeated for many years yet still felt deliciously new— and looked at the room before her. Straight out of those Baroque era mansions in France. Luxurious chairs, richly decorated walls. But it was also neglected. Dusty and stuffy. How telling.

The door burst open, and a woman in a black dress and white apron strolled in. She hummed loudly, then turned her eyes to the bed. Her hum screeched to a halt. “Oh. Princess. You’re... awake?” She sounded surprised. And disappointed. The princess smiled. “I am.”

The maid’s eyebrows scrunched together. “There really IS nothing you can do right. You even failed to die.”

The princess’ smile only got larger. “Won’t you please come over and help me out of bed?” The maid was reluctant in doing so, but she eventually walked over to her. She helped the long-slumbering princess out of her bed, and once the princess was standing on her own two feet, she turned to face the maid. Oh. Didn’t the princess feel... taller? These were the last words before the princess threw a fist into her jaw.