It is yet another cold morning in the Kingdom of Nohr. The frigid wind courses its way through the hallways of Castle Krakenburg, the heart of the Kingdom and seat of its king, Garon. The sun has only barely risen past the tall peaks surrounding the castle, and only those who live high up in the intimidating fortress can call themselves fortunate enough to witness the sun's rise and fall. Those inhabiting the dark crevices in which the lower regions of the castle are located will never be blessed with the sun's rays awakening them. However, some simply preferred the dark depths of Krakenburg over the sunlit rooms...
"Knock knock!" a high-pitched voice speaks as she knocks on a black door. "Hello? I've brought you your breakfast, so why don't you just open up already!" It's Livilla, one of the many maids of the court, serving the daily rounds of breakfast. "I haven't got all day, you know! Hurry it up!" The tone of that voice alone works on Ione's nerves more than anything else; she opens the door, showing no particular expression on her face, her body cloaked in black robes, as if to conceal something. "I'm not hungry at the moment", she mutters. "I will call one of the other maids whenever I feel like eating, so just get out of my face." In response, Livilla closes the door, turning away. "Hmph! Suit yourself, then. But don't come complaining if you start starving!" While the maid walks away, Ione sighs in irritation, sitting down in the armchair that Garon and Katerina gave her as a birthday gift some years ago, so that she could be comfortably seated while reading through her books and tomes.
Not long after making herself comfortable with a new hex tome, someone else knocks on the door, eliciting a mildly annoyed grunt from the sorceress. "Who goes there?" she asks monotonously. "It's me, Mother." Recognizing her daughter, Ione decides to let her come in. "Alright, enter. But make it quick; I'd rather go undisturbed for at least an hour afterwards." Camilla enters her mother's quarters, approaching her. "How is the baby?" she asks. Ione doesn't seem affected too much by Camilla's concern for her unborn sibling. "Fine as always", she responds, still maintaining the same monotony from before. "The child has been rather quiet today, which I'm content with. I'd rather have a calm baby than one that keeps kicking me awake at night." Camilla observes her mother's face for a few seconds before leaving again. "I shall leave you undisturbed, Mother. Goodbye." "One second, Camilla", Ione interrupts. "Be sure to take your hatchet with you. You'll never know what dangers lurk from afar. I've put it by the fireplace." The young princess takes the hatchet and simply turns around, appearing rather distant. "Thank you, Mother. Goodbye." She closes the door behind her.
Ione picks up the tome she was reading, one detailing some new hexes that she has only recently caught wind of. The sorceress's attention is particularly piqued when her eyes scroll over a hex that slows down one's aging process, and she quickly finds herself absorbed in the carefully handwritten letters. Not much later, though, her indulgence in hexes and scriptures is rudely interrupted by some strong movements from her unborn child. "Ugh, could you keep quiet?" Ione mutters in frustration, removing the robes from her body to expose her belly. Upon taking a good look at her own form again, Ione feels those sentiments of frustration and betrayal returning from not only recently, but from about a decade ago as well. She had already shared the bed with Garon once - and born him a child, no less, even without any plans from her own to have children - but again? She felt like she could hex herself by this point for betraying Katerina's trust and friendship even in death. It's not like she ever wanted another child; she only puts up with all the discomfort because Garon loves his children; then again, that time, too, seems to have reached its end. So now what? Now she finds herself stuck with a cumbersome frame again from carrying another baby.
Then, yet another person knocks, and Ione is losing her patience. "Ugh..." she grunts, "who is it this time?" A somewhat sweet voice sounds from the door. "Oh, it's just the court medic. Am I perchance disturbing you?" The voice carries a tinge of mockery; at least, that's how the sorceress perceives the message. She knows it's that Theodora wench again, another one of those filthy mongrels who dare thought they could replace Katerina beside Garon. "Yes", Ione speaks with a tone of irritation, "you vex me at the moment. Begone." Ione couldn't for the life of her stand to see that insufferable little smile of the strategist's; the way her lips curved, how she shows just a tiny line of her teeth... Everything about it irritates her to no end. In response, Theodora put up the same coy tone as last last time. "Well, then I apologize", she says. "I suppose I'll be on my way again, then. Have a good day."
After the strategist's departure from her door, Ione picks up her book again. However, all the times that she has been disturbed in her lecture have all but eradicated any further motivation to continue reading, and she puts her hex tome down beside her. The sorceress briefly stands up for a quick stretch, then positions herself back into her armchair, where she comfortably leans back. Finally, no more disturbance. Nobody who comes knocking on her door again for some irrelevant, minute problem of theirs. Quiet and solitude are all that remain, although... solitude, not so much with a baby inside of her. She feels her child moving again, and rubs her belly in an attempt to calm it down. Although the movements haven't quite stopped yet, Ione appears not to mind all that much. In fact, a light smile creeps on her face during this brief moment between mother and child. Even if she's never cared that much for her baby, the sorceress feels... something during the moment. She'd rather deny herself the happiness and instead endure guilt for having committed the same mistake a second time, but not now.
Right now, she briefly indulges in the moment, a quiet smile on her face, something that nothing or nobody could take away from her. A fleeting moment before regret and guilt take hold of her once more.
Regret and guilt that are to haunt her long after.
