Warmth grazed her cheek from an open window. Such a treat to her alabaster skin. A cool breeze entered through the open window and set chills along her skin. how precious it was to feel the wonderments of nature. Oh how she hated being locked up inside all the time, a sin she would never forgive her people for. Their wickedness is what makes these stone walls her sanctuary away from their crimes. The horrible things they did that the merciful king took her away to shield her from their evil ways. She was so thankful he did, she could not even imagine growing up in a place that was so filled with hate and blood.
“Come away from there Ilayda. I do not want you to catch a cold.” The old woman in the chair opposite the room lifted her head from her careful embrodery. The careful scene of lions playing was so delicate, Ilayda always envied the woman for her tiny stitches. Ilayda was always more gifted with the hard though. Her fingers loved to love rapidly against the strings as her voice carried a tune of the great epic love stories. Her harp was currently residing in the great hall however.
“Come sit by me and practice your stitches. For having such a delicate, well everything, I am surprised you do not have the smallest stitches I have ever seen. Come and practice your butterfly pattern. You will want to make a handkerchief someday where they are perfect.”
“Yes, Nivera.” She replied as she sat in the chair almost as a leaf would upon the ground in the fall. She picked up her small loom and started yet again another butterfly began to emerge from the white cloth. She could never fully concentrate when she stitched anything from nature. Her mind always saw them coming to life, more and more with every stitch. She lost herself in the prairie of flowers dancing and singing with the birds and animals. She always imagined the smell of flowers in the sunlight to be sweet like honey. She was barely allowed to be out in the gardens at night, so even thinking of the day was beyond question. How her heart longed for it so. She did not even know why, the king always made she got everything she wanted and more. Like the white silk slippers she wore, or her white gown of finest cotton cloth and a beautiful white cloak that had ties embellished with silver to match the small flowered circlet that sat upon her head of red curls. Her wardrobe was filled with the finest things and yet her heart seemed like something was missing. Sighing she laid her loom in her lap and let her mind wonder not able to complete another one of her stitches.
Something that might turn into a book of sorts. We shall see. Enjoy