Story; WARNING: Writing Spam

Story; WARNING: Writing Spam

The day is warm, not unlike the rest of them in this kingdom. I look up at the pink Alaethian sky, speckled with little wisps of orange clouds. A large stone building slowly comes into view as I walk; it’s the castle where I live. It’s not, altogether, extravagant, but it is what could be called quant. I pass through the front doors. A few men and women greet me mildly, some ask me for their good luck, and I grant it to them. Other than that, nothing out of the ordinary.
I am what they call the moon, or a sliver of what is left of our second one. Almost eighteen years ago, we had two moons, one was always full, the other, had its own phases. During a terrible meteor shower three quarters of the full moon was slowly chipped off; the very moment the last sliver was chipped, I was born - not a moment before, nor after. I do not portray a visage of beauty, which would be expected of a moon, but people do not keep in mind, I am the embodiment of a broken moon, which leads to the point; I am not pretty. I was, at least, bestowed with my silvery blue eyes. The rest of my appearance is plain; dull brown shoulder-length hair, a slight build and frail limbs.
I feel something touch my arm, I look over my shoulder and a handmaid is standing there.
“Excuse me, ma’am, the king would like you.”
I nod and follow her. She leads me to the drawing room where the King and Queen are both sitting in easy chairs the handmaid clears her throat and the two nobles stand up. Their little four year old septuplets swarming around their feet. The oldest and the only boy, Demitri, runs over to me and begs me to pick him. I pick him up, using my waist to hold him up.
“Come with us, Helena.” says the king, David, to me.
Again, I nod and follow.
“Well, we have you some good news.” Marisa, the queen, says as we walk, “We’ve found you a husband.”
I feel my heart stop, “You have?”
“Yes, and I’m sure you’ll like him.” She picks up her youngest, Lissa.
David and Marisa are almost parents to me ever since my parents had died. Their both of the same age of thirty-five, but act as if their my age. David is tall and handsome; he has thick light brown hair and glossy green eyes. Marisa has a regular stature, she has tight blonde curls and the same green eyes. Quite often they’re mistaken for siblings. As for their children, they have seven, all bearing the same face of a mixture of both their parents’ good looks. All except Lissa and Demitri, they both look slightly different from their sisters. The names of the rest are; Ani, Alli, Ella and Kelly, Marisa and David love names with vowels at the end.
They take me to the library. The library is a massive room stacked from the floor to the ceiling with books. It’s usually devoid of life, but there is a man sitting at a table reading. Looking at the book, it’s something about how to chop carrots correctly. He closes the book and lies it down. I set Demitri on the ground and tousle his brown hair.
Carlisle stands up, he’s tall, almost too tall to my standards, he has long black hair pulled into a fold, and still, nearly four feet of hair hangs down. His face is what intrigues me, his features are perfectly proportioned, his eyes, or rather eye, for he wears a black eye patch over his right eye, is beautiful, it’s a deep purple. Thin lips curve perfectly around a gentle smile, and slightly revealing a set of blindingly white teeth. His skin is extremely pale to boot. My first thought is that he’s a ghost. Though ghosts don’t have long black hair, indeed they have no hair at all.
“You must be Helena.” He says, bowing, “I’m Carlisle Warner.”
I curtsy lightly “Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Warner.”
He curls his nose, “I’d rather Carlisle.”
“Alright, then, Carlisle.”
His smile widens slightly.
Demitri ducks behind my skirt.
“Well,” says the queen, “your ceremony will be held two weeks from now.”-
Marisa takes his arm and mine, “You two go on a walk.”
She loops our arms together and pushes us toward the door.
Hesitantly, I go with him.
In the hour of our walk, I find Carlisle likes to talk just as much as I don’t, and I nearly despise talking. Suddenly he’s launching out conversations about fire-eaters, and then cake, then some kingdom miles away. By the time we get back the sun had gone down. Somehow, he persuades me to let him walk me up to my bedroom, where he tries to sneak a kiss before I go in. I catch him and we have an awkward handshake where his face is inches from mine and I’m leaning back slightly. I go into my room and close the door silently. I fall face first onto my bed and sigh. Before long, I change into my nightclothes and go to bed.

The next morning the Queen wakes me, announcing that I’m to have brunch with her and the King, but, upon getting there, I see that Carlisle was invited too. He and the King seems to have hit it off for they both carried on conversation after conversation. The queen and I sat out of them, just barely saying a word. Before long, the meal is over and the Marisa and David go quickly, leaving Carlisle and I alone.
“You don’t talk much.” He says.
“No.” I say, standing up.
He also stands, “Well, that’s just sad.”
“How so?”
“How can I get to know you if you don’t talk?”
“What is to know?” I say rhetorically.
“I don’t know,” He strides over to me, “What is there to know?”
I merely shrug and walk out of the dining room.
I go for a walk in the garden early that evening. The queen strides excitedly to me, taking me by the arm.
“Come, come,” She says, “we must find you a dress, and fast.”
“For what, may I ask?”
She leans over toward me, in the context that she is going to share a secret, “There is going to be a ball later this evening, you need a suitable dress, no?”
“Well, I’m sure I do, but why wasn’t I told earlier?”
“Well, I’ve no idea,” she tugs my arm, “but we have no time to waste, we must get you and I dressed by seven o’clock.”
She pulls me back toward her stone palace. In a matter of thirty minutes, ten of the most beautiful ball gowns I’d ever seen we’re laid out before me. Marisa made sure that there where no plain options for me to choose. She pointed out a few of her favorites then left me to choose. Throughout the time I was given to get ready, I adapt and put on my dress. I sit at my mirror, apply my make-up, and put on my jewelry. I check myself in the full-length mirror one more time then proceed out the door. The queen meets me at the upper entrance to the ballroom.
“Oh my God!” she yells.
I step back, “What?”
“What have you done with that dress?!”
I somewhat designed my dress myself. I took small aspects of each of the ten dresses and used most of them in one. I used a long black satin skirt with a navy blue corset that has the chest cut out. I took a black shirt with billowy sleeves and a low neck under the corset. I commented it with diamond earrings and a plain gold chain necklace. For my hair, I just pulled up a small chunk at the left side of my face held with a small black pin.
Marisa steps back and inspects the outfit, “its dark, but it’s got style.” she heartily embraces me, “My little Helena has developed a style!”
I gently pull away from her, “So I have.”
She puts her arm around mine and faces me toward the door.
“Well, here goes.” she mumbles.
The door opens, a million people are standing somewhat orderly fashion at the bottom of a short staircase. The queen pulls me down with her. She lets me go in the crowd and takes her seat at the front of the hall. She waves her hand slightly and poppy music begins to play. Poppy isn’t my style. I slowly walk over to the wall and stand quietly beside it. After about four agonizingly happy songs pass until one that actually sounds remotely good starts. It’s a slow piano but the poor playing of it takes away from the piece. I imagine it’s my fingers on the piano playing something else entirely. I tap my fingers against my skirt with the song in my head, wholly adrift in my own universe. Suddenly all the music in the room stops, and my little universe-bubble pops and I fall back to the real one. Opening my eyes I look over to where everyone else is looking at, all to the Queen and her newly joined King, he’s standing up, saying something, but I can’t hear; my ears aren’t prepared to really listen. Everyone looks at me and I feel someone ushering me forwards from the back. I look behind me, not expecting to see someone’s chest, but the fine black hair dropping from the shoulders gives away the person. I’m pushed onto the stage in front of the piano. The crowed people begin to clap. Carlisle sits me down on the bench and smiles encouragingly. The clapping stops abruptly. I slowly play a scale, warming up. I play the intro to the last song I remember hearing played then smooth change to a slow, morose one. I play in three stanzas then I’m quietly joined by a violin. I look up towards the source of the sound and see Carlisle leaning against the front of the piano with a violin under his chin. He looks very absorbed in it. I watch him while a tiny part of my brain keeps my fingers on the keys. He doesn’t pop his arm as most do; he makes it look as graceful as it does sound. I only wish I could make it look so easy when it comes to the piano. Our duet sounds beautiful, every key change I make out of the music, he changes in perfect time, I slow down a bit, he slows down a bit. We play three songs then we seem to awkwardly leave the stage. I resume my spot by the wall, but with Carlisle beside me this time.
“You play wonderfully.” he says.
I lean my head back against the wall, “I’m rusty, that was the first time in four years I’ve played.”
“You can’t be serious.”
I nod shortly.
“Well, I guess we both have something in common.”
I look over at his ever-smiling face; which is lifted towards the ceiling. I notice his neck is almost fully covered in scars; a scar I’ve seen before and I know what causes it- rope. I half-realize what he is; seeing as he’s seen the gallows firsthand and lives; or at least, can tell about it. I notice him look at me from the corner of his eye and his grin disappears somewhat. He covers his neck with a large hand he looks out to the ballroom at where the people are dancing.
“I guess you want to know, right.”
“No.”
“No?”
“No.” I repeat.
“You’ve ideas of your own?”
I pause “Yes”
The rest of the ball could not go slower. Marisa made me dance with Carlisle over thirty times saying “You two should get to know each other.” When we barely even said a word. The whole time he kept his neck tucked in like some type of owl, and kept his eyes on the ceiling or above my head. Marisa also made him walk me to my room. This time he didn’t try to kiss me, and he seemed to walk off faster than seemingly necessary. The next day I see nothing of him, then nothing the next day, or the next or the next. In fact, I don’t see him again until two days before I get married to him. The breakfast conversation on that day was the strangest I’ve ever heard.
“There was a massacre over in another Kingdom.” David says, taking a bite of toast.
Everyone stares at him. All accept Carlisle, who seems to sink in his chair. Adding to my theory of what he is.
“What happened?” Marisa asks.
“Nothing too serious, I’ve heard. A few fingers were severed; some people lost a goat or two. Two unfortunate souls were hung from their thumbs in briar trees.” He shakes his head at the last one, “I’m thankful it was not us.”
Everyone around the table chuckles nervously. But that news subtracts from my theory. The day passes quickly. Faster than it seems a day should.
The next day I wake to eighteen years old. My party was just as I expected: nonexistent.
I spend half the day outside walking.
“I-I heard it was someone’s birthday today.”
I turn around. Carlisle is standing there, hands behind his back.
I nod, “Yes, it’s my birthday.”
He pulls a box from behind his back and hands it to me. It’s a small black box with a blue ribbon around it. It’s about six inches by seven, around an inch deep
My heart jumps, “You didn’t have to.”
“I wanted to.” He smiles, “Go ahead. Open it.”
I pull off the ribbon and take the lid off the box then pull back the tissue. It’s a necklace. A gorgeous emerald, set in a bed of tiny silver flowers then hung from a long silver chain with tiny links.
I hold it up and look at it closer, “It’s beautiful!” I exclaim.
“I’m glad you like it.”
I put the chain around my neck and attempt to clasp it. His fingers touch mine.
“Let me help you.”
I pull my hair back as he clasps it. I let my hair rest on my shoulder and his hands recede. I move the chain and pendant around until it falls strait.
“Perfect.” He mumbles, “Shall I usher you home?”
I smile lightly and nod. We walk in silence for a few minutes.
“So … We’re getting married in a few days, huh?”
“Yeah.” I mumble.
“Well, that’s gonna be … fun.”
I look at him, “How so?”
He chuckles nervously, “I’ve never been married before.”
“I sure hope not.” I say slowly.

“Okay, okay, okay. Rehearsal.” Marisa says, pulling me toward the ballroom.
We pass Carlisle in the hallway and she pulls him along.
“Okay, go stand over there.” She says to him, upon arriving at the room.
She points at the other side of the room.
“Back up.”
He backs up.
“Little towards the right.”
He moves toward the right.
“Closer to the wall.”
He moves a step toward the wall.
“I said closer to the wall!”
So he moves closer to the wall.
“Okay. Good.”
She steps behind me and quickly pushes me slowly toward him.
“Glide…glide.” She directs.
She stops me in front of Carlisle.
“ I do,’ ‘I do’ smooch, smooch, and there’s your marriage!”
She pulls me back toward the door, “We must see if your dress fits.”
She takes me to her dressing room. She goes into the back, into the closet, and pulls out a gown. She hands it t me and pushes me behind a screen. I hold the it out and inspect it., it’s a plain white sundress. I put it on anyway, then step out.
“Why is the back cut out?” I ask, turning to look at my back in the mirror.
The back just inside the shoulder blades down to just above my lower back is cut entirely out.
“Why to show of your lovely gills!” she strides over and strokes her finger down my spine.
Just as she’d said, I have gills, a Nycksie’s, or water faerie’s, gills. How else would we breathe underwater?
“I’m not sure if they’re lovely.” I sigh.
“Well,” she laughs, “I really like the dress.’
“I never said I didn’t like it, it’s just a bit exposed.”
She situates the shoulders, “Maybe.” She steps back, “ It looks good on you though.”
“What kind of shoes?” I ask after a moment.
“I’m thinking none.”
“Wouldn’t that be indecent?”
“it’s not that bad. It goes with the setting. Carlisle is going to be just as plain as yourself, and I want his feet just as shoeless.”
“What’s the setting?”
“There’s this gorgeous field right beside the sea. It’s surrounded by all these trees and the breeze is heavenly.”
“You’ve got it all planned out, then?”
“Mm hmm.” she mumbles, turning to look at some dresses.
“Unchangeable?”
“Mm hmm.
“Where are the kids?”
“They’re upstairs playing with David. They just love him.”
I make my way back behind the screen and change back into my former dress. Marisa takes the wedding dress from my arms and puts it back up.
She gently hugs me, “This could be good for you, Helena. David and I were arranged, and we’re the happiest couple in all Alaethia!”
“I don’t know.” Is all I can think to say.
She sighs and lets me go.