The Lotus Theatre
Your Royal Highness, Prince Crispin Eason
Lotus couldn’t understand the fascination that most seemed to possess in relation to the royals. She took there, her arms crossed stiffly as she watched riders holding banners trot smugly down the cobblestone streets.
As the procession continued onwards, Lotus grew impatient. She could feel the sun warming her hair to an almost intolerable level. Lotus turned to leave, before being swarmed by people pushing forward. She realised that it would mean only one thing, that the prince would soon be arriving. Lotus snarled, watching as people noticed who they were pushing against.
She mused to herself, wondering why she seemed such a threat as she observed the slowly parting column of people. The gap was narrow, but no one dared to step in it. Lotus, hidden under her newly washed but frayed cloak, squared her shoulders.
Whispers rose up around Lotus as she stalked through the pass, talking of the prince. She looked back over her shoulder to see that the carriage holding the prince had stopped, the black door had swung open to reveal the profile of a man. Her head snapped back around as she continued to walk forwards.
Lotus found herself away from the crowds, in front of the theatre once more. No one was in the open theatre, and the stink of unwashed peasants still lingered in the air. Lotus took down the hood of her cloak, before unlatching it completely. It pooled around her feet, and she didn’t care that it grew dirty.
She scrambled up upon the wooden stage, feeling the rough texture through her worn slippers. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to feel the moment. The moment of nothingness, where she didn’t have to pretend to be one that she wasn’t. She almost let herself feel, lost in the moment.
Lotus laid down, allowing her white blonde hair to fan out around her. She stared at the open ceiling of the theatre, seeing nothing but blue skies that mimicked her eyes. Lotus snorted to herself, finding a slight humour in the statement, before she stopped herself. No, no feeling.
Despite her hardest efforts, Lotus was not a girl without feeling, and was once renowned for her kindness. But she wasn’t that girl anymore, didn’t want to be that girl anymore. Her eyes fluttered shut, her breathing evened and a dream overtook her mind.
She was small, tiny in size, only reaching to the waist of her mother. She remembered this time. This was long before the accident. Long before she comprehended repercussions and the harshness of reality. She sat in a chair, uncomfortable but plush.
Her small legs swung down in the air, too short to reach the floor. She was in a private box, her sister and mother sitting next to her. Her father was late, as he always was. He was always busy.
She sat straighter, hoping to see over the banister that covered her view of the stage. A stage that was underneath a closed ceiling, painted with images of angels in bright blue inks that imitated the sky.
Lights poured onto the wooden stage, smooth unlike the one she currently laid on, she noticed absently. She remembered this stage, named after her family. Her family were influential, responsible for many. The lights dimmed as a curtain opened, revealing the concealed actors.
Lotus awoke with a start; a slight pitter patter reached her ears. She glanced to her left, noticing rain, and for a confused, sleepy second wondered why she wasn’t wet herself. She noticed a large shade had been erected over the top of her. She glanced around again, noticing the other person sitting cross legged behind me.
Crispin had watched the fiery eyed girl sleep for what seemed like an age. He was weary from the carriage ride through town, and slightly frustrated. He had seen her cloak within the crowds, and knew that it was her. By the time he had emerged from the carriage, she had disappeared, with none who would tell him where. In his gut, Crispin knew where she would be, and followed her back to the place where he had met her originally. He stared down at her sleeping form, watching as she awoke with a jolt.
Lotus narrowed her eyes at the intruder. This was her time, not his. After mere seconds, recognition flashed across her face and she realised that this was the man from the day before. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. Lotus wanted to make a point of ignoring him, but she couldn’t.
“What are you doing here?” Lotus narrowed her eyes at him, watching as he shifted slightly uncomfortably, and then smiled a small, awkward looking smile.
“I wanted to know your name”
“My name is of no concern of yours”
“Well someone must call you something. Or is it just bitch?” Lotus gasped with indignation, offended and slightly miffed at the gall of the man in front of her. She decided to give him the name she went by.
“They call me Lotus” she spoke between gritted teeth, frustrated. The man flashed his white teeth at her. Lotus’s eyes narrowed slightly. Only those of the upper classes had white teeth. He stuck a hand in her face, and it took her a moment to realise that he wanted to shake her hand, a notion reserved purely for those thought of as equals.
“My name’s Crispin”
“Crispin?” Lotus stared at him for a second, a memory flashing through her mind that made her scramble to her feet, out of the protection from the shade. “Your Royal Highness, Prince Crispin Eason?” Lotus’s hands shook slightly. Jerkingly, she gathered her long blonde hair in a ponytail, shoving it under her hood that she quickly swiped from the floor.
Prince Crispin watched Lotus wrestle with her hair. She seemed, nervous on edge. Crispin supposed that if he was standing in front of a princess, and he was nothing more than a peasant himself, he too would be nervous.
“Don’t worry. You’ll not be in trouble” Prince Crispin took what was meant to be a comforting step forward, which only cause Lotus to scramble back faster.
Lotus was drenched, covered in rain, but at this moment, in this second, she didn’t care. She didn’t want to be near him. He was dangerous. His title scared her, his memories, and most certainly her feelings. The feelings of rampaging butterflies that had replaced the liquid anger that remained from the day before. Lotus turned, running out of the theatre into the downpour, leaving Prince Crispin alone on the rain soaked stage.
Crispin ran a hand down his face, feeling the slight sensation of stubble growing in upon his chin. Lotus. She was an interesting one. Her long blonde hair and wide eyes tugged in a place deep inside of him, making lust curl throughout his belly. He began scheming, thinking of ways to bring her to his palace in Dralina, and out of the small, poor village of Krelayke.
Lotus soon found herself back at the inn, sitting across from Jebediah. She relied on the old man more than she cared to admit. Her hands still shook as she raised the mug to her lips, relishing the burning of the alcohol as the sweetened mead slipped down her throat.
She slammed the mug on the counter, causing a nearby sailor to jump before quickly looking away. She scowled into her cup, torn between the urge to smash it or just simply frown. Lotus took some deep breaths, trying to calm herself. She was Lotus, a girl with no name, no history, no memories and no feelings. She just was.
As the procession continued onwards, Lotus grew impatient. She could feel the sun warming her hair to an almost intolerable level. Lotus turned to leave, before being swarmed by people pushing forward. She realised that it would mean only one thing, that the prince would soon be arriving. Lotus snarled, watching as people noticed who they were pushing against.
She mused to herself, wondering why she seemed such a threat as she observed the slowly parting column of people. The gap was narrow, but no one dared to step in it. Lotus, hidden under her newly washed but frayed cloak, squared her shoulders.
Whispers rose up around Lotus as she stalked through the pass, talking of the prince. She looked back over her shoulder to see that the carriage holding the prince had stopped, the black door had swung open to reveal the profile of a man. Her head snapped back around as she continued to walk forwards.
Lotus found herself away from the crowds, in front of the theatre once more. No one was in the open theatre, and the stink of unwashed peasants still lingered in the air. Lotus took down the hood of her cloak, before unlatching it completely. It pooled around her feet, and she didn’t care that it grew dirty.
She scrambled up upon the wooden stage, feeling the rough texture through her worn slippers. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to feel the moment. The moment of nothingness, where she didn’t have to pretend to be one that she wasn’t. She almost let herself feel, lost in the moment.
Lotus laid down, allowing her white blonde hair to fan out around her. She stared at the open ceiling of the theatre, seeing nothing but blue skies that mimicked her eyes. Lotus snorted to herself, finding a slight humour in the statement, before she stopped herself. No, no feeling.
Despite her hardest efforts, Lotus was not a girl without feeling, and was once renowned for her kindness. But she wasn’t that girl anymore, didn’t want to be that girl anymore. Her eyes fluttered shut, her breathing evened and a dream overtook her mind.
She was small, tiny in size, only reaching to the waist of her mother. She remembered this time. This was long before the accident. Long before she comprehended repercussions and the harshness of reality. She sat in a chair, uncomfortable but plush.
Her small legs swung down in the air, too short to reach the floor. She was in a private box, her sister and mother sitting next to her. Her father was late, as he always was. He was always busy.
She sat straighter, hoping to see over the banister that covered her view of the stage. A stage that was underneath a closed ceiling, painted with images of angels in bright blue inks that imitated the sky.
Lights poured onto the wooden stage, smooth unlike the one she currently laid on, she noticed absently. She remembered this stage, named after her family. Her family were influential, responsible for many. The lights dimmed as a curtain opened, revealing the concealed actors.
Lotus awoke with a start; a slight pitter patter reached her ears. She glanced to her left, noticing rain, and for a confused, sleepy second wondered why she wasn’t wet herself. She noticed a large shade had been erected over the top of her. She glanced around again, noticing the other person sitting cross legged behind me.
Crispin had watched the fiery eyed girl sleep for what seemed like an age. He was weary from the carriage ride through town, and slightly frustrated. He had seen her cloak within the crowds, and knew that it was her. By the time he had emerged from the carriage, she had disappeared, with none who would tell him where. In his gut, Crispin knew where she would be, and followed her back to the place where he had met her originally. He stared down at her sleeping form, watching as she awoke with a jolt.
Lotus narrowed her eyes at the intruder. This was her time, not his. After mere seconds, recognition flashed across her face and she realised that this was the man from the day before. He leaned forward, resting his arms on his knees. Lotus wanted to make a point of ignoring him, but she couldn’t.
“What are you doing here?” Lotus narrowed her eyes at him, watching as he shifted slightly uncomfortably, and then smiled a small, awkward looking smile.
“I wanted to know your name”
“My name is of no concern of yours”
“Well someone must call you something. Or is it just bitch?” Lotus gasped with indignation, offended and slightly miffed at the gall of the man in front of her. She decided to give him the name she went by.
“They call me Lotus” she spoke between gritted teeth, frustrated. The man flashed his white teeth at her. Lotus’s eyes narrowed slightly. Only those of the upper classes had white teeth. He stuck a hand in her face, and it took her a moment to realise that he wanted to shake her hand, a notion reserved purely for those thought of as equals.
“My name’s Crispin”
“Crispin?” Lotus stared at him for a second, a memory flashing through her mind that made her scramble to her feet, out of the protection from the shade. “Your Royal Highness, Prince Crispin Eason?” Lotus’s hands shook slightly. Jerkingly, she gathered her long blonde hair in a ponytail, shoving it under her hood that she quickly swiped from the floor.
Prince Crispin watched Lotus wrestle with her hair. She seemed, nervous on edge. Crispin supposed that if he was standing in front of a princess, and he was nothing more than a peasant himself, he too would be nervous.
“Don’t worry. You’ll not be in trouble” Prince Crispin took what was meant to be a comforting step forward, which only cause Lotus to scramble back faster.
Lotus was drenched, covered in rain, but at this moment, in this second, she didn’t care. She didn’t want to be near him. He was dangerous. His title scared her, his memories, and most certainly her feelings. The feelings of rampaging butterflies that had replaced the liquid anger that remained from the day before. Lotus turned, running out of the theatre into the downpour, leaving Prince Crispin alone on the rain soaked stage.
Crispin ran a hand down his face, feeling the slight sensation of stubble growing in upon his chin. Lotus. She was an interesting one. Her long blonde hair and wide eyes tugged in a place deep inside of him, making lust curl throughout his belly. He began scheming, thinking of ways to bring her to his palace in Dralina, and out of the small, poor village of Krelayke.
Lotus soon found herself back at the inn, sitting across from Jebediah. She relied on the old man more than she cared to admit. Her hands still shook as she raised the mug to her lips, relishing the burning of the alcohol as the sweetened mead slipped down her throat.
She slammed the mug on the counter, causing a nearby sailor to jump before quickly looking away. She scowled into her cup, torn between the urge to smash it or just simply frown. Lotus took some deep breaths, trying to calm herself. She was Lotus, a girl with no name, no history, no memories and no feelings. She just was.