Caught In the Fire of A Dragon

A girl sat down in her church; hands folded neatly in prayer. Her long chocolate brown hair curled around her pale face- her eyelashes fanned out across her dusty pink cheeks, soft, full pink lips parted and moved silently as she prayed. Her knees were bent as she knelt in front of the bronze cross- her skirts settled around her like flowers in bloom. She lifted her head, her eyes opened and became a startlingly silver-green color. She smiled and stood up- smoothing out the wrinkles in her top skirt as she did so.

She took this moment to look around the church in wonder- for she had never taken the chance to actually look at the fine details in craftsmanship. The windows were fine stained-glass depicting the fall of Lucifer and the Garden of Eden- with exquisite colors of greens, reds, yellows, pinks, blues, and purples. The wood that of a dark cherry with gold molding to accent it, the floors a polished obsidian that gleamed with a rainbow of colors from the sun shining through the windows. The cross in the middle of it all was a lovely bronze- with Jesus hanging with his head against his shoulder- nails through feet and wrists.

The organ sat in all its elegance waiting to be played, brass pipes high in the air- keys twinkling with a glimmer of happiness. The Holy Bible sat open to Isaiah 9:6- explaining the topic of when the king would be born and what he would do. The scent of roses barely masked the scent of the holy water in the basin in the corner- or that of the old bibles. Her rosary hung on her belt- shifting with every slow step she took- her hand grazing along the smooth pews, a smile gracing her lips. The Priest stood at the door, smiling gently as he waited patiently for her to finish her small exploration.

She nodded her head to the Priest as she left from the last confessions for the day. “Have a God blessed day, Princess Colette,” Father Johannes bowed as she walked out and helped her place her golden, diamond-encrusted tiara on her head, after it had fallen while she dipped her head in acknowledgement for him to rise. Thank you, Father, for letting me stay for the last confessions. I needed to get some things off of my chest. She signed to him. “You’re welcome, my dear Princess.” The Priest bowed again, “Your carriage is here to take you back to the castle.” Thank you, again. She replied.

She had never known why she couldn’t speak now- apparently she was quite a chatterer as a child, but ever since her father had been killed in a hunting accident- no sound. Her mother ruled as a lone queen since she could never find love- or a man who would be worthy enough to be king.

She walked out of the church and looked around until she heard a man’s voice calling her, “Princess, over here!” A voice with a higher sounding, yet rugged, southern, accent called- Ashley, her coach driver. She turned towards him, his long black hair brushed into a pony’s tail- so that he looked neat.His suit was crisp and clean, with her families’ seal on it- a phoenix surrounded by a golden ring of sunlight with its wings spread, and flames around the wings. She smiled and followed him to the carriage. He helped her in, and arranged her skirts neatly so they wouldn’t get caught in the door. She caught a hold of his tan hand covered in the ink only royal families’ workers could have- and brought it to her lips in thanks. She had to admit- she loved Ashley- and no one would ever want a mute wife in a kingdom to rule by their side.

“Senorita, it is my pleasure.” He smiled, his teeth shining in the harsh sunlight, his warm brown eyes gazed into hers lovingly. He loved her as well, and they both knew of each other’s affections towards the other, so it was good knowing because he didn’t know if he could live without knowing if she shared his love. He closed the door gently, but not before gently kissing her cheek, and climbed up onto the drivers’ seat to drive them back to the castle. He always had to be careful in public and only show affections to her when no one would see it- and he always looked around before he did, as it was very risky for public attentions between royalty and the serving class.

Notes

Just a note- they are in the 1600s and I tried to find pics of BVB in good attire that wasn't leather and things and without make-up. I kinda failed, and that was the best pic of a girl with curly chocolate brown hair. But this was just an idea, so decide if I'll continue depending on review. The Father's (Priest) name is pronounced: Johannes (Yo-hahn-es)

This one is from Die For You

Check out my other story!:
http://www.blackveilbridesfanfiction.com/Story/26747/Theres-Scarier-Things-Than-Death/