Quo Vadis? ((closed~))

[Yūki]

This would be my entry for the little contest-y thing that is up. Admittedly, I haven't the slightest clue as to where I'm supposed to put this, so...bear with me if I've made a mistake~



Disappearance.

With adherence to her morals, social consistence was difficult to maintain when one had the Emperor breathing down their neck. One could not differentiate the likely possibility of relocation for the Princess. Nor did the rules ever bear thought to their precious darling eloping with some other female of a lesser caliber. Princess Anactoria's mother was not concerned, but her father found that seeking a prospective bride was a little more than bizarre.

These anomalies, coupled and snaked around each other's waists, slowly began to erode at the Princess' sanity. For her mental health, and really, to satisfy her own courteous expectations, she left the palace. Her selfish reasons, no conditions would be accepted unless her father relented in steadfast opinion. One would resort to calling such a woman bratty, and perhaps impertinent. Others found it rather romantic, the regal royal pressing forth her expectations of love and solace without ceasing.

Still, her family. They were still a part of her. Flesh, blood and bone. Even encased within stone walls, her freedom was barely restricted in a suffocating manner. Anactoria was rather lucky, but she was not happy with what she had. Unlimited wants was the basis of human nature and psychology.

So it was with her repressed enjoyment when she crossed those unknown, unnamed lands and into the partial territory of her kingdom. The high buildings were blurred against her vision, quivering with every turn of her head. The dusty white horse trod carefully against the humid sand, the Princess feeling pricks of dust and stone against her ankles with every step. It was uncomfortable, but she busied herself with the idea of home. Where she went would never be spilled from her delicate lips, choosing to keep it a gentle secret if a sanctum was ever needed in future times.

Anactoria had already pondered her response to open arms. She loved perpetual conversation, though found that the avoidance was simply due to her status. Which was to be expected. So she wondered; would anyone know her? Greet her as she passed through the tall arch, with her head held high? Or would they bend their heads low in respect, feet shuffling as the sun beat against their exposed necks? She had playfully admonished a young lady before, but the Princess did not expect the female to fall to her knees in apologies, and had immediately hurriedly explained that it was alright, really.

The Princess knew that her disintegration from their society was not described as a traitorous act; nor did it include the idea of exile, calling for redemption. Restoring her soul as a pure Royal was not the issue here. If she was to carry the weight of an entire kingdom upon her shoulders, then she would rather share the burden with passion and intimacy. It just so happens that the idea of a strong female was still a foreign concept to her old-fashioned father.

But as she neared the entrance, the heiress allowed her shoulders to droop only slightly before holding her head up high. The transparent, powder blue shawl wrapped around her head and neck did nothing to protect her from the raging sun, nor from the heated gazes as she continued through the pillars standing strong. Immediately, whispers began to flow, streams of sighs and squeaked screeches.

Her face had not been forgotten, she realized, and her lips twitched up lightly into a soft smile at this fact. Her eyes were marble cobalt, but her expression was filled with graceful joy and salvation as hands trailed up to touch the horse's stout neck. As far as they would dare to come near her, but that was enough. She did not stop to chat, offering only small nods and quiet laughs. The castle was far - so far away - yet she felt her heart beat faster with every step. It drew her closer to the inevitable, and towards the designers of her mortality.

The palace was warm, yet cold. The way she remembered it, from so long ago, and overwhelming twinges of nostalgia brought about fragile tremors. She had left her horse with a stable-boy - a nervous, yet sprightly fellow - and the guards indicated her to follow without another word or inquiry. It was not in their place, and Anactoria was glad for this absence of communication. There was much to prepare for.

As she was being escorted, Anactoria was incapable of knowing where she was stepping. She was simply moving to the beat of the guardian's feet, to the throne room. To meet her parents, after such a long, unguided period of absence. The prepared speech suddenly seemed inadequate in her ears, as she raked over it. It was shallow, and boorish. It conveyed not her feelings for her parent's decisions, but the reasons of her escape and the possibility of a repeat.

If they did not conform to her wishes, then they will truly be sorry for it. How terrible.

The Princess - still as a feather, but trembling lightly beneath her shawl as she waited for their word. There was a crowd, holding sweet breaths in anticipation, wondering the consequences of bare recognition. Dukes, nobles, princesses, princes; gathered at the court as she slowly knelt to her parents. Her mouth felt dry, like she had swallowed a couple of deserts on the way here, and could not produce a single intelligent syllable of significance.

Anactoria did not have to. Four hands fell upon her shoulders, soft and gentle in stark contrast to the heavy, protective palms that belonged to her father. But as the weight grew, the metaphorical mass of the world lifted from her thoughts. The words were banished; the heiress felt the acceptance and acknowledgment and forgiveness - all at once, one at a time. Pushing through her defenses, rather the argumentative side of her persona and oblivious to the mass around her. This was where she was, and truthfully, you will never know how much you value something until you lose it.

"I'm home."