~Sarabella~

I paced quickly through the large corridor, my footsteps making an echoing clatter on the hardwood floor. On my left side, towering oak doors led to mysterious rooms. They were identical, and even if you had been there a while, as I had, you never quite knew what you would find until the heavy door creaked, revealing the shadowy chasm within. On my right side, large windows, their velvet curtains tied out of the way, flooded the hall in a grey light as the raindrops outside pounded on their glass, making an endless patter of tiny fairy feet, light as swiftly drumming fingers. 

Finally, I aproached the end of the hallway. In front of me was a door, not unlike the others, except perhaps a little grander, with an extra swirl in its carved surface. As I extended my arm to move it aside I used my other to smooth my dress and settle my flat black hat, its ribbon hanging sown my back and intertwining with my hair.

As I pushed away the great oaken mass, I heard my name called out by a thin man in a dark tunic, puffed pants and long socks.

"Countess Sarabella Clairmont Edestan!"

His voice boomed, as it had been trained to do. Without missing a beat I continued to the table and withdrew an elegant chair, the cushion soft, whereas the back pushed into my shoulder blades.

The room was light, the wallpaper a light speckled yellow with flowery green trim. Guards were posed at every entrance, there to remind us that nobility could never rest; not even at breakfast were we safe from treachery. One long, smooth table ran down through the room. Courtiers, counts and countesses, the royal family, dukes and duchesses, knights and dames, lords and ladies, miscellaneous  nobility . . . Not a chair was not filled with a man or woman. Decked out as the were, it appeared as though a thousand birds were only trying to outdo each other's feathers. . . . Not that I didn't squawk just as loud. 

I turned to my neighbor, a pretty thing, delicate features, although she seemed small and meek compared to the others. We made polite small talk for a while, lamenting the weather. The food had not yet been served, although it would be bad manners to say so.

Finally, the familiar creak of a door and, "Queen Elizabeth the First!", alerted us to stop midsentence and look up, a deathly hush falling over the room. 

Her majesty swept herself quickly to her chair at the head of the table. She towered over us in sheer force of charisma, and not an ear did not attend her words.

"My apologies. I'm afraid I was indisposed. Breakfast then, hm?"

We all nodded in agreement as the servers, seemingly instantaneously, emerged from the bowels of the palace and placed steaming bowls of soup in front of us. Each was served in a beautiful china bowl and garnished with a sprig of greens. I waited until the queen had tried hers before moving my own to my lips, the salty broth warming my shivering insides.

The pretty girl searched my face for signs of wishing to continue the conversation, but I was instead fixated on the Queen. For a brief moment a look of confusion washed over her face, although it soon passed.

It was stupid, I reminded myself to, even with such unhappy weather, think of some evil and treacherous event occuring. Her soup had been tasted anyway. Still, the thought stayed with me. . . . 

toppy pleasey?

Omigosh! Spammy says Vida!

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May I join?

Character Description:

-Name, age Agnesse Thatcher

-Title or job Maid  

-Apperance Brown hair that's always tangled (though she hides it under her headscarf), hazel eyes, prefers plain clothing. 

-Personality Lonely, but cheerful and kind in spite of this. Her parents died a year prior to the events of this RP, leaving her under the care of her aunt, the castle cook. She enjoys the company of animals. 

-Strengths She is able to perceive when someone is unhappy, and comfort them. 

-Weaknesses She is quite illiterate.

-Random Fact She cannot stand the color purple.

Anyone can claim Agnesse for their own maid if they like. 

Name: Roger (Reggie for short)

Age: 13

Job: Messenger boy to someone unknown.

Appearance: Scruffy, dirty- could pass off as handsome if he were clean, which he never is. He has brown, moppish hair and wears cut up old gentle men's clothes .

Personlity: Skeptical of everything, except that which his master tells him.

Strengths: Can tell when someone is lying, and has a remarkable way of not being seen.

Weaknesses: Food, and a crush on a certain maid. Food will get him every time. 

Hello? Anyone still posting? Yes, no, maybe?