What a Terrible Night To Have A Curse

In the world we know we are fascinated by the supernatural despite our desire not to believe in it. What if I told you all of it were true?
 
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 The Cost Of The Crown

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PostSubject: The Cost Of The Crown   Fri Jun 30, 2017 2:13 am

Deep within the region of Baia Mare just near the Ignis mountains; at a fortified castle guards circle as well as stand guard the estate. The hour was late and the air of the night was not at all calm; there was tension, suspense and prayer. Pray for the queen; the lady of the house as she underwent the harsh labors of childbirth. Boots paced back and forth alongside the cobblestone as an array of emotions consumed the king and grand boyar; all he could do was pray for the well being of his wife and unborn child. His beloved Helena; not only was she ill but the fact she was with child. What troubles would the birth bring? Would she survive? Would she have passed on what she had to the child? The man stood in front of the painting of the holy mother and her infant son; collapsing to he knees he looked to the beloved mother as he clasped his hands together in pray. "Oh heavenly mother; hear my prayer. Please spare my wife and child on this night; please let the birth be one of ease on her body. Please my lord send my beloved Helena strength; and my child please ensure he is of good health." He pleads to the painting hoping the lord above would grant his prayer; quickly he made the sign of the cross over his forehead and chest before rising to his feet once again.

Gently he brushes back his salt and peppered locks with a frown coming to his lips; hazel orbs look upon the door to the chambers in which his beloved wife laid. He could hear her cries and shrills; they were bone chilling. Her calls for him struck his heart harshly as he could hear the midwives telling her she could not have her husband in the room with her. It was improper; but her pleas were relentless as she shrieked and cried his name between her cries. He wanted to go to her; he wanted to hold her in his arms and tell her all would be well. He closes eyes as the tears stung the corners of his eyes; he had never known such cruel tortures in his life. He thought the battle cries of war were haunting; but hearing the woman you adore to death and past cry out your name as she bore your child. And you cannot be at her side; that was perhaps far more haunting. He slides down the stone wall as he folds his hands together impatiently awaiting for someone to collect him. To allow him entry into the birthing chambers; their bedchambers where his beloved wife and child were.

Beyond the closed door of the bedchambers Helena gripped the hand of one of the midwives; the pain was excruciating tears trickled down her cheeks as she pushed yet again. Her already weakened body was breaking slowly from the agony she was enduring; the three women were becoming nothing but blurs to her. She could barely make out their reassurances; they sounded jumbled to her. She wanted her husband. Her beloved husband; whilst their marriage had been arranged when they were but children she adored him like no other had. While he was gruff and rugged towards the world at first he was a man of wisdom; justice, honor and compassion. He was more than a man should ever be; and the way he made her feel she felt nothing but delight when she was with him. She adored her husband; he was so sweet and kind to her. She truly had been lucky when it came to finding a husband; not only had she married the grand boyar which granted her family the status and wealth they had craved but she had married a man who treated her so well. It was rare to marry and love to have anything to do with it. Helena felt the damp cloth touch her forehead as she continued to cry and whimper as she tried to birth their child. A son is what she hoped to give him. A proud and beautiful heir for them to love. She grips the one midwife's hand as she noted a man approaching her. He was adored in black clothing with a fur cloak trailing behind him; he possessed moon kissed skin and midnight locks with pained crimson hues. She knew in her heart who this stranger was; she shakes her head gently her ebony brows knitting together. "Please; do not take my baby. He hasn't even been born. Please do not take him...." She whimpers to the being of death who only felt anguish in his heart. "I am not here for your child, Milady..." he exhales to her, her heart stopped when she heard his words. He wasn't here for her child. Which meant one thing. He was here to take her; he was here to reap her soul.

Another agonizing cry emanated from her lips as she gave yet another push; it was at the moment that the thunder and lightning cracked like a whip in the distance upon the earth. The heavens began to weep violently as storm clouds rolled in over the castle; the candles quickly blew out as Helena felt her life swiftly leaving her. Her body was going numb as she felt back into the soft pillows; she could barely hear the midwives let alone the wails of the infant. "My... son?" she whispers weakly as one of the midwives touched her cheek gently; they adjusted her arms before handing her a wrapped up little bundle. Her frost hues looked upon the ebony haired infant; she thumbed its cheek gently as she then heard the whispers. A girl. The infant was a girl. She had failed her duty to her husband; she hadn't produced the son he had desired. The ebony haired man felt his heart tighten as he approached her; gently he places a glove hand upon her shoulder. The doors were swinging open as life began to fade from her body; a tear streams down her cheek as she closes her eyes.

"A princess my darling.... I'm so.... sorry.... I have..... fai... loved... you...."  

Hands reached out to Helena's cheeks as Henry fell to his knees; he had barely heard her words as he had reached his beloved's side. His ill wife, her life had perished to the cruelty of childbirth. Fumbling he grabbed hold of her hand and gently lifted her body close to his chest cradling his wife. "Helena! Helena, my beloved please. You mustn't leave my side, my love...." He sobs the tears pouring down his cheeks; he had lost the most beautiful and the most kind hearted woman in all of Romania. No woman was as sweet as she had been. He clutched his wife's dead body until he felt something squirming; he heard the sounds of whimpers gently he laid his wife back down upon the pillows. He noted the infant squirming in his deceased wife's arms; the infant he unintentionally began to squish when he was clinging to his beloved's body in his anguish. Slowly and carefully he picked up the infant pulling the child close to his chest; he felt his heart tighten as his beloved's frost blues looked into his hazel orbs with the most beautiful radiance.

A girl, a princess. A daughter....

She had his macabre locks but she had her mother's eyes; those he eyes adored so much. Pulling the infant close to his features; his lips gently touched the child's forehead. He looked to the midwives; two of them were shedding tears for their late queen the other looked towards the stone flooring with a saddened look in her eye. Approaching her looks upon her with his hazel hues; she nervously met his gaze. "M-Milord?" She exhales, he glanced over her for a moment before clearing his throat. "You look pale.... Did something happen?" He inquires wondering if there was something more that had occurred during the labor process; she shook her head quickly. "N-No my lord....." She responds quickly, he nods understanding sadly. "Will you be her nursemaid?" He whispers; her cheeks flushed but she nodded swiftly to his inquisition. The other two midwives looked to their lord with tears in their eyes. "But it is not a son! Are you not concern for ill fortune falling upon your family?" one asks knowing that it is normally sons a lord would desire. A weak smile comes to Henry's lips as she cradled his daughter. "A son would have been wonderful; but it seems the lord wanted me to have a daughter. Especially if he was planning to take Helena away from me. She has her mother's eyes; I know she will have her mother's heart too. My daughter can have sons when she is older. I am going to love her more than any other in the world. No treasure will ever compare to the one that my Helena has left me with." He exhales as he looks back down to the squirming princess who was growing tired but wore a small smile on her little face.

"My daughter is going to reign as Queen one day...." He exhales, he paused for a moment as he adjust his hold on his daughter bringing her ever closer to his face. It was like he was getting a closer work; to examine his child on a better scale. "Queen, eh?" He murmurs softly as the infant made a slight coo and almost squeal her tiny hands reached and touched his bearded face. His heart melted at the touch as he found himself in love with his daughter; the infant who he could tell held Helena within her soul. Within her eyes. "Vasilisa, shall be your name. Vasilisa Cneajna Cronqvist, and you will burn a new path for this world. You will go on to do great things; and your reign will be glorified. I shall see to that this world is a world fit for a queen. My little queen." He exhales as he watched his infant daughter release a yawn before burying into his warm embrace slightly. The action only shattered the remnants in his heart; he knew that her being a female in a male dominant world would be an uphill battle. But Grand Boyard Henry was determined to see the world that his only child about to grow up in would be fit and ready for the future queen of Baia Mare and the rest of the region in Wallachia.

Grand Boyar Henry was determined to see that the precious treasure his beloved wife left behind would rise in this cruel world. Even if it meant doing things that many would regret; his daughter would have the rest and the world would need to prepare itself for a wave of change. Henry forced himself from the bedchambers away from where his deceased wife laid; he was unable to remain in the room any longer. He couldn't risk it. He could not risk his daughter's health. His wife had been ill whilst pregnant; removing himself from the room despite his burning desire to cradle her for the rest of the night he had to focus on the infant.  Quietly he slipped from the bedchambers forcing the midwives to deal with the deceased; he descends down the halls and corridors where the guards would straighten their posture at the sight of him. Swiftly he enters the castle's chapel room where the father was gathered with the lord's holy text; the father turns to look upon his king and offered him a king yet weakened smile. "Your highness; I see you could to me with an heir. A son I presume?" The father inquires placing his bible down alongside his altar; Henry shook his head a slight yet quick frown pursed to his lips. "Nay, my beloved Helena bestowed upon me a daughter who has her eyes. I have named her Vasilisa; a queen she shall be, father...." He whispers out to the grayed haired priest who held his chin in the palm of his hand listening to what his king had to say to him.

The father looks to the infant princess wriggling in her father's arms; he offers a smile as he takes the princess into his arms to look upon her himself. "I see, I shall bless your child. You, my sweet princess have been born on the day of the lord. The god has blessed you with the day he rose; a child born on this day will never be satisfied with anything ordinary in their lives and they will always be like a ray of sunshine for those around them with their auras of brightness." He exhales as he approaches the water in the holy pool. He sprinkles water over the infant's forehead; naturally she cries at the sudden wetness upon her. The priest gave her a pray and began to bless her as her father stood a few feet away watching with his hazel orbs. Shortly after the priest returns the princess to grand boyar; he offers the priest a smile. "Thank you father." He exhales softly; his smile quickly fades though as his gaze flicks to the ground. "May you go give a prayer to my Helena? She passed birthing my daughter." He whispers the father frowns hearing but nods complying to his lord's words. But he nods before departing from the boyar's side; he glances back to the blessed infant with a small frown coming to his lips. He realized his daughter would grow up without a mother. He was uncertain how he'd go about raising a child by himself. He could only pray he'd be able to provide for her. Give her the life she truly deserved. 

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PostSubject: Re: The Cost Of The Crown   Thu Jul 13, 2017 4:29 pm

Frost hues stared absentmindedly at the scrolls as the man paced behind her; reading off another text she head her quill and fiddled with the softness of the quill. Her macabre locks were woven into a braided bun that sat at the top of her head with her bangs framing her face. The child was suffering from boredom as she listened to her tutor's monotone voice. Lightly she kicked at her feet underneath the desk; her eyes twisted over to the window where she could she past the glass and look upon the scenery below. She saw fellow noble children playing with one another in the fields; granted they were mostly male as the girls sat off by themselves giggling and gossiping amongst themselves. Oh how she envied them; she wanted to be among them, to play with them and make friends with them. "Princess Vasilisa, are you paying attention!?" demands the tutor who strikes a wooden crop down on the desk. The princess jolted upward her gaze twisting to look upon her tutor; his beady gray eyes staring down into her pale orbs. He was an older gentleman with crow feet at the sides of his eyes; he had graying hair as he was balding slightly too. A sweat drop trickles down her pale cheek at the man's hardening look. "I cannot believe you will one day be ruling this region. Our country will be led into ruin, I say! To be led by a woman is to be led into the mouth of hell." He growl in mild disgust; his words made her stomach twist into knots uncomfortable. Vasilisa lowers her head slightly looking back at the text before her; her fingers grip at her dress as she forced back tears. To be led by a woman is to be led into the mouth of hell.... the words pained her heart and she lowers her head. "Are you crying princess? Princesses do not cry unless they are crying for the fallen! No that now!" he hollers at her causing her to flinch and whimper; he struck his crop down upon the wooden desk beside her.

The door opened as her father entered and the tutor cleared his throat, quickly straightening his posture the princess hopped out of her chair racing over to her father embracing his leg. "Tata! Tata! He said to be led by a woman is to be led into the mouth of hell! He said I will lead our country into ruin!" she cries out to him; King Henry grimaces hearing the small child's words as he turns his gaze upon the tutor with displeasure. "Did ye really just speak such words to my daughter? Yer princess, yer future queen?" He demands rubbing at Vasilisa's back gently; he looks down to his daughter briefly before kneeling to meet her gaze. "Why don't you go outside and play among the noble children." Her father suggests with a small smile; the child nods leaving the small study quickly scurrying down the castle hallway brushing back the tears from her eyes away from the corners of her eyes. She hoped the tutor would be reprimanded for his harsh words. The princess was quick to descend the castle halls eager to get away and interact with other children. She picked up the sides of her dress in hopes of

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