Fair strips of long and nearly white-blonde hair escaped one by one from beneath Bianca’s hood, as she little by little made her way purposely through the courtyard. In her current stress she didn’t notice, nor would she have cared; however her partner – and cousin – Lucifer, who followed closely behind, did take the time to appreciate the wild kite’s tail the wind and locks of gold created. In his mind, Bianca resembled nothing less than an Angel of Death at this moment. The rigid mask of calm she wore, which seemed like it might last even through the end of the world, had common folk scurrying every which way to clear the path before her. The poor people might have seen the resemblance to Azrael too, or something in the manner of Bianca’s advance may have simply screamed of royal bearing, but in any case their progress to the palace was relatively unimpeded. What a pity for him and his betrothed.

Together they had an announcement to make to the young Queen, this very day, but abruptly no one could be certain how she’d receive the news. The barony of Vice had fallen, so said the telltales at market this morning, and it was anyone’s guess whether the petty loss had set fire to her Majesty’s violent temper. For certain, it wouldn’t be pleasant to be on the receiving end of the monarchy’s whimsical wrath, even with their titles. Bianca was birth daughter to the crown while Lucifer was prince heir of neighboring Blanck, yet neither was entirely immune to the Queen’s mercurial moods. Their status only went so far as to shield them from execution at their sovereign’s hands. Relations were such, between Blanck and Cruse, that Lucifer’s murder would not be much regretted in any case, but only through his and Bianca’s match could the kingdom receive its Crown Prince.

Thinking of his soon-to-be relation and his precarious safety from her sent stirs of dread through Lucifer’s innards – and this was Lucifer, a man not prone to much fear – so he sought to mould his expression to a parallel likeness of his lover’s. Bianca had perfected a mask of disdain for her subjects, and care for not a thing in the world, as a nascent girl, but Lucifer came from an empire where it was more common to exercise less restraint. His preoccupation still showed plainly on his countenance, and in the way his steps slowed to a mere crawl behind his fiancée. Lucifer struggled to eliminate his doubts, and found it easier to dwell on Bianca’s beauty, ahead of him, instead of agonizing over the upcoming audience. The hair he’d so admired recaptured his attention first, by offering different angles to view as he slowly caught up to Bianca in stride. Pins and garnet-encrusted combs had held an elaborate braid close to the head only hours ago, but the whirlwind of spun silk locks he’d seen earlier had escaped the confines of both metal teeth and cloth hood. He was afraid he began to stare.

As if she could feel his gaze, Bianca turned to her beloved with a question on her face as well as his name on her lips. “Lucifer?” Those perfect lips shone with a curious sheen in the broken sunlight. “Royal blood always shows,” he intoned in a low voice. Drawing close, Lucifer put an arm around Bianca while she wiped away the blood around her mouth. “It comforts me so much to know that you too are anxious to meet your mother. Neither one of us will possess any courage when we walk into her audience chamber, then.” Bianca’s eyes narrowed at the accusation of nerves, but her tongue darted out quickly to moisten dry lips, and abruptly they were wet with blood once more, betraying her.

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Part of an arc of one of my offline stories. It used to be titled "Well", but for now the names of each chapter only reflect which character tells the tale...

updated Jun 24 '10 by Traxisk