Her Dark Knight

The Lights

The days passed slowly after the party, until the day came for Arabella to attend the tea dance organised by one of the Ladies. As she was dressing in her room, the Lady complained to her maid Delores that she had to attend.

“Oh Delores, all the Ladies are lovely but the conversations are quite dull, all they want to talk about is fashion or the latest bachelors that have done well for themselves. It is all rather tiring.”

Delores sighed and finished tightening Arabella’s corset, “My Lady, these are the young women that will be with you in court, so you shall have to be friendly with them. Of course, if you made up with Lady Kylia then she could also attend and you two could amuse yourselves as you usually do…” She winked through the mirror at the future Queen.

Arabella grimaced and then sighed, “Yes, I probably should. I don’t know what I would say to her though, I don’t think I acted irrationally in any way!”

Delores pondered, then said, “My Lady, you do not have to apologise I think. Lady Kylia would be more than happy to just speak to you again, even if you asked her to not mention what got you angry in the first place.” 

The Duchess nodded, turning to face her maid after she was finished dressing, “Thank you, dear Delores. I don’t know what I’d do without you.” She smiled, hugging her briefly. “Right, call for a carriage, I am ready to leave!”

- - -

The tea dance so far had dragged. All the Ladies that had gathered had been pestering Arabella all through the afternoon on her opinions on different clothing or jewellery styles – as if they could not decide on their own. 

Arabella was getting more and more frustrated at all their shallow comments. She could barely inject any intellect into their conversations, as when she tried some of them would look at her oddly and start discussing another up-and-coming designer.

“So, Duchess Arabella, you must be extremely excited to be moving into the Palace soon! To think that you will choose some of us to accompany you into the court is exciting. I am dying to know who you shall pick!” Lady Samara asked, eagerly. 

Arabella smiled sweetly back, “Don’t you worry, Lady Samara. I will pick the Ladies that I believe to be most suitable to life at court.” 

Some of the Ladies tittered, sitting up straighter in their seats and gleaming to the Duchess. One young woman, a Lady Adria of Pathos, reached forward to take Arabella by the hand.

Arabella startled and looked the Lady in the eye, who said, “My future Queen, we are all confident in your ability to pick the right Ladies for your court, we will always be there to support you in any way you see fit. Although it may not seem it at the moment, and as you have not met many of us before – most of us are extremely loyal and will back you in any situation. We have a deep love for the Crown and all they have given us, which now includes you too.” Lady Adria smiled and leaned back, feeling content at having said her piece.

A couple of other Ladies nodded in agreement, whereas others simply glared at the Lady for having spoken, as they wished the words had come out of their mouths. 

Arabella thanked the young woman, thinking on how she would need to get to know the Ladies better to determine which of them were really on her side and which just wanted to be in her court for its status. She was certain that Lady Samara would be a good choice, as she had shown nothing but pleasantness to her; and of course, Lady Kylia, although in disagreement at the present time, Arabella knew that the strong-willed Lady would always have her back. Lady Adria seemed a good fit too, she appeared to have a good head on her shoulders that could prove useful in the future. Arabella needed a minimum of 6 court Ladies, so she knew that she would have to hand-pick a few more women before her marriage and subsequent coronation.

Focusing back onto the present, the Ladies had just started an animated conversation on the art of knitting. Arabella sighed; this really was going to be a long afternoon.

- - -

The Duchess of Angelos had finally excused herself from the party, she had suffered through long hours of dull conversations that had seemed to drain her energy to the point where her head felt as if it was floating through sheep’s wool.

Once returning to her manor, she beelined for her bed chambers for a quick refreshment. Arabella instructed Delores to run a bath for her, as her neck muscles were aching from having to hold her head up whilst she tried not to fall asleep in front of the Ladies. 

Sliding into her large bronze-gilded jacuzzi-style bathtub, she relaxed into the jasmine-scented waters, contemplating the Ladies she had met today. Most of them had seemed lovely, and a few had even stood out as potential Ladies of the court, but there were also a few that did not hide their discontent for Arabella. She assumed it was because they were jealous that she was to marry the Prince, but she would have to ask around to make sure it wasn’t anything deeper than a petty grudge. Arabella had spoken more with Samara and Adria – they both seemed like lovely Ladies who would make an excellent addition to her trusted aides and had even coyly asked them about their opinions of the other Ladies. They had suggested that Lady Sarah of Sofos, whose father was an advisor to the King, would make another excellent ally. 

They had informed her that Ladies Winifred and Philippa, although friendly, were often mindless and did not provide much stimulation when it came to conversing. Arabella had agreed, as she had noticed that the only time they ever spoke was when discussing the latest fashions of the city.

When her bath water started to cool, Arabella stepped out of the bath and dried, shouting to Delores to gather her some dark, loose clothing as she wanted to shift quickly before dinner was served. She walked into her room and donned the clothes that Delores was holding out for her.

Upon leaving her bed chambers, Arabella sprightly skipped down to the gardens. She eyed the setting sun as it kissed the sandy horizon, the colours blending into a breath taking display of lights that could make even the saddest person smile at the wonder of the world. Deeply breathing in the cool dusk air, Arabella let her body relax and shift into its Were form.  

- - - 

She awoke slowly, her throat was painfully raw as if she had been howling or screaming. Her body was nearly covered with the shifting sands, so she must have been there for a little while. Arabella looked up towards the night sky – the stars were shining so brightly that they looked like they belonged to a city. A city in the sky… that sounded nice, she thought. Her ancestors had supposedly travelled up into the endless black, many eons ago. There were documents explaining that the glowing lights she was witness to at this moment, were in fact balls of gas and energy, burning with a fierce intensity that resembled the Sun that had scorched their Earth. As the lights twinkled above her, she thought about what it would be like to be up there – completely alone but knowing that you were one of the only people to have witnessed its sights. Drawing herself out of her thoughts, Arabella remembered how she would need to return home quickly as her parents were probably looking for her.

The girl stood, sluggishly, finally seeing that her dark clothing was in tatters clinging to her skin. She looked around in a sudden fright; she was no longer in the city she was sure, as she saw its high buildings and heard its bustling noise roughly 500 metres away. She panicked, not knowing how she had got there, especially to get past the city guards. Checking her body for wounds quickly, the Duchess was happy to see that she had apparently suffered no ailments. 

Arabella looked around her again, finally focusing on a strange sight she had not seen before in her panic. A clustering of lights on the horizon, in the wrong direction to be that of the Moon Kingdom’s army and the fields of harvest that workers from the city often frequented, and it seemed to be too close for the Witches hideouts. The small lights were flickering - flames lighting up the night-time air for whoever was living there.

The Lady of Angelos became frightened, she knew that she would have to return to the city at once as she was not safe out in the desert alone, especially if these lights were indeed the Witches that could have moved closer to Epineio.

With a quick glance over her shoulder to the strange lights, Arabella sprinted back to her city, to safety.