A New Beginning || Drabble
Melody paced around the spacious room, her heels clicking and echoing off the crown molding, a trail of golden fabric danced to a fast beat between the mountain of her feet. Her eyes were dull and her fingers tapped rhythmically on her abdomen until she was reminded to stop again. Someone was always reminding her of something. Your Majesty please eat -- your majesty you mustn’t bite your nails -- your Majesty you must -- Your majesty -- Throughout this dreadful week there had been an abundance of things she needed to be reminded of, or reminded to be. In truth there had always been this vision of the raven-haired girl on the throne, for although she detested it she knew it was inevitable, but to think that a day such as that would come during her seventeenth year had been unfathomable to the girl.
Her Father was dead.
His blood still stained the ancient rugs in the dining room and the smell of iron and rust was so strong in the air, Melody doubted it would ever fade. A silver dagger was found lying a few feet from his body, and his new wife and child nowhere to be found. Her mouth shifted from a downward turn to a straight-line periodically throughout the day as she went through the motions of grief, unsure if she was truly feeling them. People hurried passed in blurs, waving color clothes in front of their faces to shield from their glimmering cheeks. The sky was cloudy, as if the puffs of grey had smothered the light out and taken everything good away.
She tasted chalk, as she tried to utter out each word, now standing in front of everyone she cared about, their solemn faces staring back at her. Ariel and Eric were in the first row, silently reminding her of what she accepted when she entered this position; for while she could change the monarchy system slightly there was no way it would totally bend to her will. Aurora and Cindy sat a few row behind them, their golden strands too brilliant to have missed. Melody gave a rare smile as her blue orbs rested upon the most important people in the room. The monocled man and the dark haired woman that she knew so well filled her with the warmest feeling -- because in this mess of sadness they let her know that while she was lonely she was never truly alone.
But she was alone, for with a blink the figures disappeared, having never existed in the first place. And she was left alone in the cold room, but their essence and reminders did not flee with the figures. Words flew from the priest’s holy mouth and after too many moments of silence he placed a platinum crown upon her head, sprinkled with ocean gems. She turned around to face the solemn staff, a weary expression upon her features, for perhaps she was truly home -- and set to embark upon a new beginning that she was sure was to shape her for the rest of her days.
