The Wait

Let me paint you a picture.

A room, a hall of sorts, its size is of little consequence. The walls housing windows that appear to reach the heavens, cloaked in vermillion drapes, they were of more use as a decorative piece. Acres of smooth marble floor, which, at this moment in time, is embellished with extravagant fabrics, adorning the numerous members of the blue blooded conversing and waltzing about, stretched along the hall.

On one side of this gallery there is a platform, a dais of sorts. Upon this elevated floor is a chair of such magnificence that I do believe the Gods above were envious. On either side of this throne were more red drapes, of a thicker fabric and darker shade to their fellows. 

Across from that show of grandeur stood an archway. It stood tall and proud, shielding a young woman from the haughty glares of the hall. Eyes that lacked their normal confidence flicked from noble face to noble face. She paid little attention to the droning voices surrounding her. Her dark hair drifted down in liquid ringlets, showing off the defined features of her face. 

"Blood will soon be fallin' from those lips if yer pearls were to bite any harder Ana," a quiet voice spoke up from behind her. Despite her situation, Xana smiled. 

"Then I shall stop. My gown would not suit red, I feel," she jested, hoping to alleviate the nerves of the scruffy blonde behind her, as well as her own. She reached behind her and squeezed the girl's hand, the skin rough against her own tender palm.

"Maya, I understood that you did not intend to come alone?" Xana quietly said.

"My cousin was delayed, but she will surely be here shortly," came the quiet reply. "Look for red, you will know its her."

"Is she wearing red?" Xana asked, eyeing the ravine of red floating through the ocean of fabrics.

"Lord, no..."

"Sister," a smooth voice summoned from behind them.  

The End

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