It’s National Kissing Day, send‘:*’ to give my muse a kiss | accepting
as the room burst to life with the arrival of the Queen, many scurried to her side, whispers set on her ears, seemingly surrounded to be bled dry, patience wearing thin whilst each leech was effectively tossed away just to carve the path for another. mandible taut, muscle aching with the force in which she clenched her teeth, the touch upon her hand, a barrier so boldly broken by that of whom she expended the greatest charity. with such a event, the vultures dispersed to allow her a moment to breathe before it was lips settling on her flesh.
gazes collided, dwarfing what astonishment dared to betray her, expression struggling to remain austere. presumably a french custom to dare rest lips upon a monarch without provocation. yet there was a strange comfort in it, the subconscious reveling in the contact her existence had been devoid of for quite some time. hand lingering in Lady Tremaine’s for a moment, it was slowly drawn back to rest on the ornate bodice of her gown, the warmth still lingering on her skin.
❛ a pleasure, Lady Tremaine. i am delighted you could attend. ❜
