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@brannaghxsmithson-blog
Brannagh was going about her work when she noticed the noblewoman muttering under her breath as she roamed the halls. As was accustomed, Brannagh bent into a bow out of respect. âMilady, you seem distressed. Is there anything I may aid you with?âÂ
Bella was walking down the stairs, still wearing black for the ones they had lost whilst reading a letter she had received from her parents. âNatĂŒrlich, was hĂ€tte ich sonst erwarten sollen.â She mumbled while the latter said that she was expecting to meet her new betrothed soon at the castle.
Brannagh was going about her work when she noticed the noblewoman muttering under her breath as she roamed the halls. As was accustomed, Brannagh bent into a bow out of respect. âMilady, you seem distressed. Is there anything I may aid you with?âÂ
âHave hope,â Brannagh advised, still unsure as to why the king would be sharing this information with her. âShe must have your best interests at heart. Perhaps it will be a good match...âÂ
âWord from overseas is that my mother is coming to choose me a wife.â Garrit sighed. âThere is going to be a party and she is going to take control. I apologise in advance for my swearing and angry demeanour until this is over.â
âHave hope,â Brannagh advised, still unsure as to why the king would be sharing this information with her. âShe must have your best interests at heart. Perhaps it will be a good match...âÂ
Brannagh was not privy to the toast, of course, but she couldnât help the small chuckle that escaped at the sound of such as pessimistic toast. She only prayed that no one had heard her.Â
âA toast to surviving another day and not getting murdered in our sleep.â Irina toasted sarcastically, making it clear that she wasnât really happy being stuck in this place, when she should be back with her people.
@argyris-markos bc her betrothed should definitely see how crazy and stubborn Irina can be. xD
Brannagh was not privy to the toast, of course, but she couldnât help the small chuckle that escaped at the sound of such as pessimistic toast. She only prayed that no one had heard her.Â
Brannagh tried to take comfort in those words, though she had never put much stock in prayer. âDo they know what it is?â she asked worriedly, hoping for any more information.Â
âI assure you â the situation is contained to the best of our abilities,â Enitan said, trying to remain calm in the face of an ongoing panic, âthe only thing you can do now is pray.â
Brannagh tried to take comfort in those words, though she had never put much stock in prayer. âDo they know what it is?â she asked worriedly, hoping for any more information.Â
âAye, I just cannae resist. What a waste it would be, yer know ye want a piece - come on Brannagh, just a wee bit.â Symon replied with a grin on his face as he picked the platter of chicken up and held it out to her.Â
âYou know I canât, Symon,â she said with a stern tone, hoping that it would hide how tempted she truly was. âI need this job too much. The cook might have a soft spot for you, but sheâs always had to out for me. Sheâll find any reason to have me sacked.âÂ
Symon looked around the empty kitchen, his eyes fell upon the food laid out on the table. Heâd helped made some of it earlier that morning for the masquerade ball, but after the confusion and mayhem most of the spare food laid untouched. He looked round the room once more before he picked up a chicken leg and began eating it.
âI would perhaps be more careful, Symon,â Brannagh giggled as she snuck up from behind. âYouâre lucky itâs just me. The cook is otherwise occupied, but she would have your head for this...âÂ
Nancy held her breath while closing her eyes. She could hear footsteps on the other side of the door, all that she could do was hope and pray that he wouldnât enter. She didnât normally hide from her clients, especially not when they were a Lord but heâd had one too many to drink and started to get hands on, which didnât exactly seem all that appropriate with the tragedy that had fallen upon the castle earlier that night.The situation wasnât what the brunette would call a dangerous one but it was always better to be safe than sorry as she knew while the whole castle in chaos if something did happen there would be no one to help her.Â
After the tragedy she had witness in the ballroom earlier, Brannagh had taken to cleaning rooms in the castle to get her mind off of it. Work had always been soothing to her, and it was the only way she knew how to cope with the turmoil running through her head. It was all going well, even, until Brannagh saw a woman enter the room, clearly looking at though she were trying to hide. The warning that the affliction suffered by the Prince had been perpetrated by man and not plague suddenly echoed through her head, and she was immediate on guard. It was too dark to see the woman in question, but perhaps she played some part in this terrible plot. Brandishing her broom as a weapon, she walked closer towards the woman. âWho goes there?â she asked, trying to keep the fear from causing her voice to waver.Â
â„BBC Merlin Aesthetics: Gwen
âGwen is the most kind, loyal person you would ever meet, and she has been more than a friend to all of us.â
(for my friend, Emma â„)
Catrionaâs head tilted to the side in a mix between sorrow and pity, saying softly to her friend, âYou couldnât have saved himâŠâ She trailed off, continuing only in her head: And now you cannot save yourself. Cat was at the end of her rope, standing along the edge of a cliff, and about to unravel right in front of Brannagh.Â
âWhat were you thinking?â, she repeated, whispering almost in disbelief.
âI was thinking that a man was dying and I could not allow him to do so without such a simple kindness,â she responded, somewhat defensively. She could not even imagine the horrors Catriona might had just faced, but she could not believe that the girl would deny someone that basic gesture.Â
She tried not to judge too harshly, and allowed what little anger she had to slip easily as she refocused her attention on her friend. âBut Catriona, what happened to you?âÂ
âBrannagh?â, the girl questioned, before reaching above her had and turning the knob of the door to let her friend in. It was her hands that Catriona saw first, covered in a drying blood. She held a hand to her stomach and backed away from her friend in terror, crying again, âGod, Bran. What have you done?âÂ
She had been so consumed in her worry for her friend that she had temporarily forgotten about her own state. She must look a mess and the look of horror in Catrionaâs eyes reminded her, and she brought her hands to her side of keep them steady. âPrince Alicks,â she started, her voice become thin and reedy at the very thought. âI tried to save him...âÂ
âBoredom is subjective, I think â it hardly seems like you have a moment to be bored,â Dimitri mused as he followed her, his gaze down at his feet to avoid stepping on the hem of her dress. When they were finally out of the sight of everyone, he pulled off his ornate mask without much ceremony, the cool air hitting his face a much welcomed relief. His brows quirked at her remark, head tilting a bit to the side with curiosity. âTales? Iâm often quite curious what other kingdoms speak of my homeland â seems perhaps it is positive here. Albeit⊠harsh. It is true â only the strong survive. As it should be.â
âThat is true,â she conceded. Her family grew up humbly, and even as a child, she spent most of her time working, flitting between helping her mother with her seamstressing and her father and his smithing. She couldnât help but blush as the prince removed his mask, the last barrier of anonymity removed from between them. Brannagh herself had not bothered with a mask - her father had offered to make her one of fine silver filigree, but she could not justify such an expense. But with his mask removed, there was no denying it - she was speaking with a royal, and having something akin to a normal conversation. âI hear your winters are beautiful, but cruel. But even the delicate flowers survive to bloom each summer, so perhaps there is place for softness even there... I believe there is a certain strength in it.â It was true; she had to believe in a certain strength in softness - it was the only way she had survived so long at court.Â
âGo away.â, Catriona yelled through the door, not wishing to see anyone at this particular moment. She wished to sit undisturbed in this quiet room with her shock as long as she could. A man was dead. A kind one, too, with a brother who may not survive mourning another. Catrionaâs deep-rooted empathy made her very bones hurt at the thought of such things, looking up above her to the nameless god whom seemed in this moment to have foresaken Arvreck.Â
âCatriona!â Brannagh exclaimed, recognizing the voice as one of her friends. âCatriona, itâs Brannagh. Please, open the door! Are you hurt?â The dread quickly turned to panic at the idea that it was her friend on the other side of the door. She had promised to look out for the girl, despite every belief that she could take care of herself, and instead she had allowed herself to take a trip to the cellars with Prince Dimitri. She would never forgive herself for that lapse of judgement.Â
