The Cursed Throne

Ada wanted to be outside. She knew it as soon as she had woken up that morning and caught a peek of the weather. For the past week or so, there had been a constant drizzle of rain which confined her and everyone else indoors, so the mere fact that the sun was finally peeking through the clouds (nay, it was beaming!) was a significant fact that she planned on taking advantage of. Except there were other plans for her first that just needed to be taken care of before she was allowed to go anywhere.

“Adaline!”

“Hmm?” Ada hadn’t realized she’d spaced until that moment as Sir James called her out. Sir James was a fellow in his mid-forties with sun darkened skin, calloused hands, a receding hairline which had often been the brunt of many a joke, and a salt-and-pepper beard which, in her humble opinion, caused him to look maybe a tad barbaric. Today he was dressed in a rich green doublet and fine, polished boots, the trim of his clothes being deep black. The way he carried himself screamed “knight” though not much else did except maybe that one spot of his nose that suggested it had been broken once more. She had guessed more than once that he surely wasn’t comfortable in court finery, but he always managed to deflect any sort of conversation with her that didn’t have to do with her studies and often accused her of being overly curious. She suspected the man quite simply didn’t like her.

As she looked up at him, his dark, beady eyes, she thought she saw some question coming that he would use to make a fool of her with. Inwardly, she groaned. “Would you care to recite to me some of the details of politics we were just discussing? I believe starting with rank should suffice, working into further intricacies after since it seems the only way to fully keep your attention is to have you actually participate by speaking.”

“No, I really wouldn’t like to do that,” she murmured quietly, almost to where he wouldn’t be able to hear her. She did realize doing such things, purposely provoking her instructor for instance, was a quick way to be on the receiving end of trouble, but she really couldn’t help herself. They all treated her as if she were still seven, unable to function on her own and without the slightest hint of intelligence. The day a man –or woman- above the age of twenty spoke to her as if she were actually an intelligent person would be the day the world ended, she was sure.

“Sir James…” she ventured then, before he could yell at her for her “unruly” behavior. “Today is the first day I have seen the sun in such a very long time. Would you mind if we ended lessons early? I would go outside, not beyond the castle walls, and you would have some free time. Then tomorrow we would make up lost hours pouring over politics to your heart’s content.” Had she been too blunt, made it sound too nice? Ada was worried her plea would be met on deaf ears.

And for a moment, Sir James did look as if he were to yell at her, keep her there longer than usual, and insist they work. Seconds ticked by and slowly his features relaxed into an expression that neared as passive as was possible for the man. “Go ahead,” he grunted. “But be prepared to study tomorrow like I’ve never made you before!” Ada was already out of her seat and heading to the door, stopping only to do something highly inappropriate, to kiss her instructor’s cheek.

Still, once out into the passageways of the castle, she attempted not to look too particularly overjoyed or rushed. She kept an even pace as she walked, passing members of the court and servants alike though she saw not a one of them in reality. Her singular goal was the courtyard on the first story, which meant first she needed to reach the stairs.

Ada (or Adaline, as was her proper name) was the youngest in a line of five children born to the King Danton and Queen Niathina. She had two brothers and two sisters, whose names in order were Theodore, Genevieve, Emmeline and Henry (the twins), and then herself, Adaline. Of her four siblings, she also resembled her father the most. Her skin was maybe a little darker than that of her siblings since she seemed to spend most of her time outdoors, and her brown hair was a mousey color, rather curly and falling just a few inches past her shoulders in thick, unmanageable ringlets. She had dark eyes to match her hair, a round, childlike face and short stature. She was never mistakened as an older sibling, instead always singled out as the youngest.

It sometimes caused her to wonder when her body would really decide to start growing up, to match her mind, but she tried not to worry on it overly much. There was no one she needed to impress really, no one she wanted to impress except herself. Sometimes she may feel inferior to her grown-up looking siblings, but she wasn’t around them nearly enough to linger on it too terribly long.

As she descended the stairs and set her brisk pace towards the courtyard, Ada played with her hands and the gloves which covered them. She was wearing her favorite pair today, a pale jade to match the dress she wore. They were roughly two years old, and definitely well-worn. She was often seen with her green gloves on, and if it wasn’t her green pair, then it was another pair at least. She never noticed any woman of the court wear gloves all the time, no matter what, as she did, except for her mother. From what she knew though, Queen Niathina wore her gloves because of her youngest daughter. Ada had been wearing gloves constantly since she was a toddler, since a time before she could exactly remember, and she knew well they weren’t required except maybe for her own sanity.

That was another matter altogether though.

Nearly to the courtyard, Sebastian chose that moment to step into Ada’s path. She didn’t hesitate in stride, planning on whisking by the foul monster, but the look he gave her… with those large green eyes.. Sighing, she slowed down and then crouched next to the cat. He was old, with white hairs mixing in his golden coat. He had become pretty skinny since she was a small child as well. Every year that passed recently she expected him to simply fall over, dead, but he kept struggling on. “Hello, horrid beast,” she greeted the feline who stared at her with round serpent eyes. Or at least that’s how they appeared to her. Cats and serpents had pupils that were slitted rather than round, though she was glad that at that moment Sebastian’s eyes had rounded since he was in the shadows.

He mewed at her, approaching her outstretched hand, and rubbed himself against it, the faint sounds of purrs rumbling from him. “Oh, now you take a liking to me,” Ada snorted. He was always mean to her where he wasn’t to others, ever since she was little. She couldn’t exactly remember a time when this cat had been nice, and it soured her opinion of him greatly. So, what possessed her to crouch down and hold out a hand for him today was beyond her. It was safe to say she felt fairly secure with her gloves on though.

Apparently she had stopped petting him, because the large cat looked up at her then with a glare. “Maybe you should try to be a more lovable creature then,” she retorted to that look, sticking her tongue out. Yes, it was quite childlike, and yes, she was speaking aloud to an animal, but she felt quite justified in doing so considering her history with the beast! Anyone who happened to walk by during these proceedings could go to her parents with their concerns should they please.

A claw whisked out then. Sebastian was faster than Ada remembered, and he caught her hand –her glove. His claws must have gotten hooked because he was pulling but couldn’t move, and in a small panic, she was pulling back as well. Then the sound of cloth ripping came, and the cat was free. Immediately he puffed up his chest –and his tail as well- and hissed at her, then he ran off before she could much more than blink.

The glove was good and torn, two long slits first across where her palm met her fingers and then at her palm. There was likewise a small scratch on her hand that blood was welling up from, and it stung quite a bit. She wasn’t paying attention to the blood though, to the pain from being scratched. Her glove was torn. She needed to go get a new pair –now.

Ada was many things, but stupid wasn’t one of those traits. She knew better than to tempt fate and be reckless just then. The courtyard and being in the sun could wait for another five minutes while she went to her room, donned a new pair of gloves, and came back down. It would be as simple as that. And with those thoughts in mind, Ada stood once more, turning back towards the stairs, and quickly headed up.

Her hand stung, but she was more disturbed by the two large, visible tears in her glove that she couldn’t seem to take her eyes off of. Maybe that was the reason she didn’t see the maid –at least, that was what she would tell herself later. It happened that one moment she was walking towards her room, and in the next instant, her shoulder had bumped into another person’s.

“I’m so sorry, miss! I’m so clumsy!” the high-pitched, somewhat annoying voice was saying. The maid had reached out to steady Ada, had at one point touched her uncovered hand. Her voice sounded so far away though, and Ada felt frozen to the spot as her senses took her somewhere else –to the maid’s death.

Felt so weak. Frail. She couldn’t even move her legs anymore. And it was always so cold. She was never warm. It was time to go. She didn’t want to be miserable anymore. Goodbye, everyone. They won’t greet her in the morning; she won’t be there.