The night had gotten much colder now--as Eleanor petronella was seated. Her eyes were shut in a serene manner--Her blonde ringlets hovered over her pale face. Her arms and legs were tied to the bark of the wooden chair.
Soon the chill air seemed in through her night gown--Jolting her awake. Her tear-drenched eyelashes fluttered opened as her dazed eyes then began to dart across the dimly lit room. Her body had been wearied from the previous night.
She gazed at the ropes on her arms as and legs as realization struck--They had gotten her
Eleanor's breathing quickened as she then shifted numerous of time to relieve herself. Though however much she tried--She failed.
Her eyes then darted up--lips quivering as she breathed his name reluctantly.
Flaytus...
will he come? of course he will! Her shoulders then began shuddering with violent sobs as hot tears ran down her cheek.
He will come--But would he? what if he had misunderstood?
What ifhe thought she had...ran way?
The thought alone made Elenor sick--As her palms clenched the rough bark handles of the chair.
Though, soon the weariness pressed on her as she then fell asleep into oblivion.
----------
(storm struck*) The imperial palace began calming down as the serenity of the rain seeped in through the ceramic walls.
The maidens of the palace have long gone to sleep. So did everyone--Except for one man. The master's bed chamber was slightly ajar. As Flaytus sat on the wooden chair--His hands gripped the quill as he then began writing. His eyes frequently darted to the cobblestone window.
His lips were curled in a soft absent-minded manner.
His writings were about a certain beauty, a certain beauty who had clung to him as if he was her only anchor.
His breath quickened with every stroke of the quill--The way tears have clung to her eyelashes. At the way her lips quivered when he had said the words, "kindness"
He sighed and ran a hand through his hair--This is Flaytus--The man, the mighty commander of the holy Byzantine empire--The shadow of emperor Augustus--The sole heir of the throne.
But now? he had seemed defenseless Infront of her, Eleanor.
He smiled in amusement as the image of Eleanor flashed across his mind--She had no idea what she was doing to him. She really didn't.
Flaytus lets out a sigh as he then rose to his feet--His heels clicking against the rough cobblestone as he then made his way down the staircase.
His eyes then darted to the armored guards who stood in rows--Their heads were low, though their stances were ever so precise as if to fulfill an order even at this ungodly hour.
Julius was among the soldiers--His eyes were low; mind swirled in thoughts.
The palace seemed serene as only the imminent sound of the thunder played out.
Just then--A servant walked in through--He clutched a rushlight. His face seemed at distraught as his eyes darted as if to look for something or someone.
Julius's eyes darted to the man from the corner of his armored mask.
As soon as the servant's frail eyes locked with Flaytus's he quickly bowed his head. Flaytus then made his way to him. The servant then glanced up at him--Still having his frame lower than Flaytus.
My master... he murmured under his breath, master Flaytus...
Julius's eyebrows twitched in confusion as his eyes once again darted to the servant and Flaytus.
Then came the thunderous news--"The carriage that was carrying the women Eleanor petronella was discovered to be looted"
Julius's eyes widened as he then clenched his sword--His breath staggered as the image of Eleanor flashed through his mind in a rapid manner--Eleanor... he breathed.
Meanwhile...
Flaytus's eyebrows jointed in fury as his hands then connected with the servant's face sending him down with a piercing slap.
The servant clenched his hands as he then lowered his head further in shame.
Flaytus's chest heaved as he then ran a hand through his hair--he then ordered for the guards to search.
He headed for his horse and hopped on--With an impatient lash--The horse sprinted across the wilderness of the night.
His eyes darted up, his chest tightened, she was his--And his only.
He clenched the lash--making his knuckle turn white--As the fierce wind made his raven hair flutter ferociously.
No one would dare to touch her... he then gritted.
They had though... they had.
He lets out a low painful breath.
They had dared to touch what was his.
His eyes desperately darted across the dark branches.
It was all his fault
all his.