high hopes

She nodded to him as he spoke of the paintings she enjoyed the most. Perhaps it was due to the fact that she had been part of that for a while long before being thrust into an unknown world. A servant made almost a queen. She had never asked for it – had never wanted it, but life was full of strange things and it had a tendency of drawing the short straw for her. One thing that being a servant had taught her was to be quick on her feet and easy to adapt. And she was. He soon motioned for her to stand and she did as he obliged, watching with her dark blue gaze as he positioned her. One hand moved to her chest, and the other rested just under her chin. The warmth of his hands as he positioned her caused more goosebumps to grow on her skin. Luckily, he spoke again with that thick accent as he moved back toward the canvas. “I’d say you already are.” She purred to him with a quiet grin. But then he asked about Alistair, and her eyebrow lifted curiously. Would he know of him? And he had suggestions of whom to stay away from that intrigued her as well. “His name is Alistair. I met him in the Fields.” She offered easily. “Who might you suggest I stay away from?” She questioned curiously, her brows itching to pull together in her confusion. Would it be Archebold? The strange man that seemed to appear whenever whether wanted or not? She had already bridged that gap, the bruising on the side of her neck having long vanished by now. RexannA you are a church of broken glass and hallelujahs you are haunted like every holy thing.

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