The sound of music filled Cecilia's ears, but did little to stir her heart. She felt unease, more so than any other night she'd come to the enchanted world of Oarthland. Cassius, she knew danced with one of her sisters, which she wasn't sure of, but it was not that knowledge or lack of it, that concerned her. The air around her seemed different. The smell of it. The feel of it. Even the temperature had changed. To the best of her knowledge, no one seemed to notice, or if they did, they didn't seem at all worried.
Cecila licked her lips, tasting the wine she'd drunk and moved a few inches from the wall where she'd been leaning. Her fingers reached slowly forward, found the chair Cassius had whispered would be to her left and slipped down into the feather-stuffed cushion. She exhaled softly, moaning as she felt the tension in her body ease slightly. Her hands moved lazily down to her feet, where she proceeded to slip her feet free of her slippers.
"Barefoot beauty..."
Cecila turned her sightless eyes to the voice that came from her right. "They are tired and worn," she admitted, then rose slightly, only to be stopped by a firm hand on her shoulder."
"Remain seated then, for why weary your feet more than necessary?"
"Thank you," she answered back, still trying to run through her memory and connect the voice with someone she'd met before. Seconds passed quickly as she waited for the stranger to speak again, when he did not, she frowned slightly and turned away.
"Do you mind if I sit next to you?"
"Not at all," she answered. A snap of a finger seemed to echo in her ear and then shuffles from what Cecilia assumed to be servants' feet could be heard. She listened as a chair was placed beside her the stranger gave his thanks to those that had done his bidding.
"Cassius seems to be enjoying himself."
"Is he? I can't..."
"See?"
"Well, that Sire is pretty obvious to those around me."
"Aye it is. Would you like for me to describe to you what your Prince is doing?"
"It is not necessary," Cecilia admitted, "you can though tell me your name and why you have chosen to seek me out."
A soft chuckle poured from the man's lips and coated Cecilia with a sense of dread. "I am Warren, you met my mother..."
Cecila's brow furrowed. "Your mother?"
"Yes, your Aunt... Aunt Angora."
The youngest Princess of Westingfield felt the blood drain from her face, her stomach twisted in a knot and for a brief moment she swore the world she lived in had tipped on its axis. A fluttering of warm breath brushed across her ear as Warren whispered, "Come with me cousin, for there is something you need to see."