Chapter 58

"But when the naive Dawn and the insightful shall Twilight meet, will the wise darkness of the night's fall preserve the innocence of the break of its day or will he bring to her heed all the deeds that shall come to pass?"

~

The Princess' Chambers,

Residence in the Imperial Castle,

Kingdom of Tristendyre,

The first Phrinight of the Second month,

XXI Year of Regency

Dressed in a sleek blush coloured satin night gown that reached down to the very floor, Imogen stared at her reflection in the vanity.

The dress lacked sleeves, as most others did, but she needed not to wear an additional pair; there was a coral shawl of tulle that rose from the crest of the bodice to the sides and fell till her elbows, and continued there-from to connect at the dip of her back (making the appearance of sleeves).

From the end thereof, there were long and passive ruffles of such soft fabric making way till the bottom of the skirts where there was a long slit granted for the comfort of walking.

Imogen had never considered herself to be very slender in shape, for she regularly ate quite as much as a hungry boar would after a long day of hunting. Being close to Crescence, the damsel had lacked no delicacies even during the hours of her duty.

However, a certain comment from one of the persons in dark cloaks that had visited her seemed to cause her concern.

In all the hours of her sojourn in the Princess' chambers, a few people had arrived, being attired in black garments and masks, much like those she had spied in the Under-Ground. They had taken the measurements of her proportions and then left back to the Dungeons.

They had invaded the room from a certain wardrobe that appeared to be a door where-through one could make way into the Secret Under-Ground.

Imogen had assumed that they so assessed her figure for the Coronation and the fitting of clothes she would have to wear in the stead of the Princess.

The girl knew that the Royal damsel was rounder than herself, which could have brought forth the specific remark, in the comparison.

After much survey of her reflection, Imogen walked to the main door of the dorm where the dinner had been served.

The maiden whose hair was the colour of sun-kissed apricots had left a little message in the tray for Crescence, her friend, to collect, stating that she was indeed alive and stayed secretly in the personal hall of Her Majesty.

She had been waiting for the Kitchen maiden to arrive, but since it was likely that the girl knew the Princess was absent and had no need to believe the Arch-Eccleissor's bluff about her Majesty's fast, there was a chance she would not come as punctually as she should have.

Heaving a sigh, Imogen returned to the balcony. There were maroonish vines of ivy spreading over the portion of rails whereupon she rested her arms.

Somehow, gazing at the expanse of Kingdom and sky made her feel safe and trivial in a vast world of immense affairs.

Looking into the eyes of the heavens with their swirling tresses of scintillating constellations and universe made her forget her own self and all that awaited her.

As she stared forth, there was a clang of metals clashing and she yelped.

Looking over, she noticed that there was a new and intrusive hook fastened to the railings, with a long tail extending into the mystery of the night.

As Imogen leaned forward to find the source of the rope that had brought the buckle, a dark silhouette soared in and landed into the deck of the balcony.

In a quick motion, the man collected his bearings and immediately unclasped the hook, severing the rope that was behind it. Throwing the metal out into the unknown as distantly as he could, he dusted his hands and turned to eye her.

Imogen stared in petrified shock, for it was one amongst the various persons that had visited her, dressed in like black attire. He was breathing heavily as he leaned against the railing and unmasked the lower portion of his face.

"Jaycob!" the damsel exclaimed most gleefully and he spent an honest smile.

"You look terribly frazzled, whatever did you endure?" asked she, speaking without pause or response.

"Far too much", said he, gathering various documents in his possession and shoving them into her grasp. "Please hold them safely for me, they are of salient value and require to be delivered."

"I shall have them well-guarded", said she.

~

During his trip towards Mercedes' balcony, the masked Archer had sighted a few in dark cloaks seasoned across the outside of the castle, laying wait and surveying.

Thus, it was advantageous that he was clad in like apparel that it would not appear as if he was an intruder that would kidnap the Princess' decoy to safety and that his identity would be unknown.

Jaycob was tired from both the weight of his athletics and the information he had unearthed.

However, the more he learnt, the more he seemed to lack. In all the chaos that was treachery and blood, conversing with this naive young lady was most relieving.

"How has your time here served you? I believe you are being treated nicely?", asked he, eyes descending to the lovely attire she seemed to be clad in.

"Ah, I have been royal, feeling much like a princess", Imogen exclaimed, the colour of her cheeks matching that of her night gown.

"Apart from all the grandeur that I have been granted, I have survived much excruciation which I shall not have outdone, had it not been my absolute power of recovery and endurance to pain."

Jaycob seemed concerned as he leaned forward, brows furrowed as he asked: "What has hurt you so?"

The damsel of dual coloured eyes appeared pensive, like she hesitated to continue the conversation she had begun.

Clearing her throat, she started, "It was terrible really, though it may not sound as anguished in words; I was balleting across the room and accidentally hit my foot against the davenport that happened to be ruthlessly standing in the way!"

Jaycob laughed, for his imagination was quite artistic. He rested his elbows against his thighs, partially seated on the railing of the balcony, and leaned forward comfortably.

The man, who had evaded Death's knocks against his door twice that very evening, still fleeing from the outreaching grasps of murder, listened delightedly as the damsel of vermillion hair narrated the various traumas of breaking a leg.

"And my second greatest fright was your unexpected arrival", she continued and he nodded, rapt. "There were various other persons in such dark cloak that entered into the Chambers, but none through the open terrace as you have, Jay!"

His mirth instantly disappeared with such mention. "Did they come herein?", asked he, anxiously.

"Of course, they took my measurements for the Ceremony. I will have to pretend to be the princess", Imogen replied casually.

"Did they not bring the clothes made and perform fittings?", asked Jaycob.

"Not really, it was completely fresh", said she, as if she was unable to discern the intent for his disconcertment.

"That is suspicious. All of the preparations should be absolutely ready by now", he reasoned. The man knew that even the invitations of Noblesse were sent fairly recently; except that to the King of Hyll-Decanta.

Further, he had overheard Devland speak to Caleb of how scarcely any of the arrangements had seen proper completion.

"But had the princess not run away a fortnight ago? Per-haps they did not expect it and now with my replacement, the garments may need to be constructed afresh to suit me?", the damsel placed forth her ponderings and the masked man shook his head in disagreement.

"It is tradition that every royal heir be enthroned at the age of five and score years, if there is no competent and reigning Duvessa Ruler. Mercedes' coronation should have been expected since her very birth. It is strange that they hadn't quite completed all arrangements about months ago", said Jaycob.

~