Post by Prince Amy O'Connor on Apr 6, 2016 3:24:22 GMT
Far too many things were happening in her City, keeping the Prince and the other members of the Court too busy for their day to day lives. It seemed everybody was preparing for the war; it was the only thing the Kindred seemed to talk about, anymore. Even in the sewers, where only the rats roamed, whispers of the impending battles flooded the ears of anyone who would listen. Perhaps, in time, they would grow tired of the drama, but for some time, it would entertain them.
Amy O'Connor, however, had long since grown bored with the conversation topic of choice. Whenever anybody came to visit her, they wanted to know her plan, what she hoped to accomplish in the coming nights. She had little to tell them; even Amy was playing it all by ear. It seemed nobody was interested, any longer, in getting to know the people, only the warriors and soldiers.
Slipping away from her sweet, sleeping husband, she left the note she had written the night before on the pillow. It requested his presence in an upstairs bedroom usually reserved for guests. She knew that he would partake in his nightly ritual, but hopefully, that would give her the time she needed to do what she planned. She took a quick shower, letting the steam fill the room, and sneaked around in hopes of keeping him asleep for as long as possible. She dressed herself, but she did not wear her usual layers upon layers of ruffles and cover.
Instead, she pulled out the clothes she only wore when there were wandering eyes. The shorts made her feel uncomfortable and nude, but Octavian had complimented her, once upon a time. He said he liked how she looked. So she grabbed hold of the oversized jacket that clung to her tiny frame, almost longer than the jeans that cut off on her thighs. Leaving her hair stark white, she wandered out of the room, surprise etched across the faces of the retainers she passed. They smiled at her, but she kept walking, offering them only a smile.
Amy made it up the stairs and to the indicated bedroom, slipping behind the door and locking it. Octavian would have to knock if he wanted to gain entry. Leaning against the frame of the door, she closed her eyes and took a deep and slow breath. Her stomach churned as she contemplated her surprise for her husband. She was not exactly known for her spontaneity, and her plotting was rarely so... specific. She could only hope he liked what she had done for him.
Amy O'Connor, however, had long since grown bored with the conversation topic of choice. Whenever anybody came to visit her, they wanted to know her plan, what she hoped to accomplish in the coming nights. She had little to tell them; even Amy was playing it all by ear. It seemed nobody was interested, any longer, in getting to know the people, only the warriors and soldiers.
Slipping away from her sweet, sleeping husband, she left the note she had written the night before on the pillow. It requested his presence in an upstairs bedroom usually reserved for guests. She knew that he would partake in his nightly ritual, but hopefully, that would give her the time she needed to do what she planned. She took a quick shower, letting the steam fill the room, and sneaked around in hopes of keeping him asleep for as long as possible. She dressed herself, but she did not wear her usual layers upon layers of ruffles and cover.
Instead, she pulled out the clothes she only wore when there were wandering eyes. The shorts made her feel uncomfortable and nude, but Octavian had complimented her, once upon a time. He said he liked how she looked. So she grabbed hold of the oversized jacket that clung to her tiny frame, almost longer than the jeans that cut off on her thighs. Leaving her hair stark white, she wandered out of the room, surprise etched across the faces of the retainers she passed. They smiled at her, but she kept walking, offering them only a smile.
Amy made it up the stairs and to the indicated bedroom, slipping behind the door and locking it. Octavian would have to knock if he wanted to gain entry. Leaning against the frame of the door, she closed her eyes and took a deep and slow breath. Her stomach churned as she contemplated her surprise for her husband. She was not exactly known for her spontaneity, and her plotting was rarely so... specific. She could only hope he liked what she had done for him.
