A Window's Ledge ll Demelza &
Demelza had grown to know the castle well. Seventeen years of learning the ins and outs of every corridor, every twist and turn had come to serve her well. When she was ten, she first discovered the small, unused room she had hidden away in for the past hour. It was not the room that was particularly exciting - just a square box with bare brick walls and cold stone floors - but the window which encompassed one of the walls. It was a huge arch of iron carved into the grey wall, the panes of glass long since lost, but the hole left behind gave an almost endless view of the Capital below. Every twisting road, every grand house and pleasant inn was visible (if in ant-like size) to the young girl.
Since a child version of Demelza had made the discovery, it had quickly become one of her favourite places to think. From that window she could see every place she'd never truly be able to experience - every tavern filled with drunks but full of chatter and laughter; every humble home, over-brimming with the warmth of family and simple lives of little duty. Whenever she was upset, or whenever the chores of a princess became too much for her to bear, she would sit upon the window ledge she had found, allow the wind to blow her hair in billows and take in every piece of normality beneath her. It made her feel better.
So, after hours of dancing and endless chatter and congratulations for her engagement, Demelza had decided it was time to move through the hallways of the castle, to the ledge she had claimed as her own. As always, she removed her shoes and hopped onto the slab of stone, being careful not to tear her dress. The winds were icier than usual, what with the promise of winter, and after only a few minutes she felt herself shivering and her teeth chattering. It didn't matter. She watched the city she had grown to love by gazing from afar, and then a sudden realisation hit her. Soon, this would not be her view anymore. Not much longer, and the intricate architecture and high buildings would be replaced by an endless view of blue sea and ships. By a city she knew barely anything about. Then, she realised, she was terrified.
Demelza had never cried about her engagement. It was something she had accepted and pushed to the back of her mind, convinced herself that some mishap would present itself along the way and perhaps it would never happen after all. That was a fantasy, she knew. She also knew that it was her duty to do whatever her family asked of her, but that also did not mean she had to be happy about it. The warm tears down her cheeks were almost a shock, it had been so long since she had cried for anything, having become an expert at composure under her mother's guidance.
"A princess doesn't cry," She murmured to herself in the darkness, the golden cascade of hair the only thing visible in the moonlight, "A princess does not cry."