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Post by Chris Strongheart on Mar 11, 2006 15:18:37 GMT -5
 : Christine sat at an ornate vanity, giving her hair one hundred strokes, trying to do something with the long hair she had been cursed with. Seriously, what was the deal with all her portraits requiring her to have long hair? She sighed and stood up, walking over to the balcony. She glanced down below and sighed. She was tired of this little cage her guardians had her in. What was so special about a few colored locks of hair? First thing, she vowed, was that she was going to cut those locks off when she left for school. Hopefully, they wouldn't grow back until after she finished at Red Fountain. She paced the little balcony, lost in thought. Her thoughts drifted back to a certain summer before she snapped back to her senses. A look of sheer irritation swept across her delicate features. A half-written letter to her childhood friend was on her desk. She didn't know why she bothered writing - he never responded to her letters. "Lyon, when I get my hands on you," she breathed. She was irritated that he couldn't even be bothered to respond to her letters and tell her to stop writing. Maybe the letters weren't getting through - but she did send them to the location he told her to. |
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Post by Chris Strongheart on Mar 12, 2006 15:33:40 GMT -5
: She shook her head sadly and held her hand up, letting a small bird land on it. "I want the magic of love again - The look of longing in his eyes - All the wonder and surprise - Of knowing that the best is yet to come - I need the magic of love again - Give me a magic wand to wave - Tell me the magic words to say - To bring back the magic of love - No illusions - He's a man who has many dreams - But it's so confusing - To be always in between - I want the magic of love again - That subtle sorcery of the heart - The fire his smile used to start - That makes me feel I'll never get enough - Give me a magic wand to wave - Repeat the miracle that gave us - The wonderful magic of love," she sang, her voice pure. She laughed as the bird trilled along with her singing. With a gentle wave of her hand, the bird flew off. She spun, letting the soft golden velvet of her dress twirl around her. She laughed merrily, feeling her youth again. But all good things had to end and she had to go attend to "important" matters - like having princes come to court her. She shuddered at the thought of marrying anyone. She mentally amended that - she'd marry, if Lyon would ask her. But Lyon... was who knows where. She didn't even know if he was still alive - if he still remembered her. She sighed quietly and headed downstairs to the main chamber and settled down on the throne. Her blue eyes lost their spark of life as she sat there - listening to the various suitors drone on and on about their attributes. 'If only Lyon was here...' she thought sadly. |
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Post by Chris Strongheart on Mar 12, 2006 16:20:02 GMT -5
: She rose from her throne abruptly and without a single word to any of the people in the room, left at a brisk pace, clearly irritated by the whole suitor process. She ignored the cries of the people, her gait getting quicker before she broke into a full run, almost as if she was trying to flee from the chaos. Her dress swished as it brushed against her legs and the ground. She ran straight into someone and drew back, an embarrassed blush on her face. "Forgive me," she said demurely. "I... I didn't see you there. I didn't hurt you, did I?" she asked, extending her hand to the young man she ran into. For a moment, just for a moment, she thought it was Lyon. But that moment quickly passed. But this young man had such lovely blue eyes. Blue eyes almost the same shade as Lyon's. 'No, stop it,' she mentally lectured herself. 'It's not Lyon. Lyon hasn't answered a single letter since that summer and I'm sure he's forgotten about me...' she thought bitterly, and tried to maintain her composure so she wouldn't cry in front of this man. She'd cry in private later, much later. And a few vases might end up as dust. "I'm Lady Christine Strongheart. You are?" She could tell he was a prince, but as to which... She had no idea. All the names and faces tended to become a big blur especially after having gone through two weeks of this madness. "Prince... Ah... Help me out here. I'm terrible with names right now," she admitted with an embarrassed laugh. She was so tempted to say Lyon but she was holding back. She was mentally lecturing herself for being so hung up on a boy from her childhood. It was time for her to move on - but she just couldn't. Something told her not to give up on him, on them. That is, if there was a them... |
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Post by Chris Strongheart on Mar 26, 2006 20:49:38 GMT -5
 : Byron stood in the shadows, watching his princess introduce herself to the young boy. He gritted his teeth as he watched, seeing that the outsider was charming his princess. She just didn't know she was his yet. He'd make it clear and soon. He'd approach that boy later and warn him away from her... if he knew what was good for him. : Christine blushed as the young prince brushed a stray lock of hair off her face. "Thank you, my lord." She laughed quietly. "So, which homeworld are you from again? I didn't quite catch it." OOC: ah, this was a tag for you, Sky  |
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