Cachè Rose (A Orginal Story)
Circelain always lead a hard life. A dangerous, exciting, deadly life. She lived in the shadows. Spun and wove lies and secrets. One mistake has her life in even more danger. She must throw away all of her covers and her identity. She can make one last cover. A permanent one. If she loses this one only one thing can happen.... death.
Rose must now stay hidden. Battling with herself, her identity, her old life, old covers, and love she threatens to destroy herself. Circelain must become nobody.
Sorria Para Mim Misericordioso Deusa
"But-" Paul started to protest.
"Sshhhh" Rose said placing her finger over Paul's lips. "Let me control the horse, until daylight. Then we will sleep."
"But slave traders-"
"Paul" Rose said sternly. "They aren't any more likely to appear just because I'm the one controlling the horse."
Finally Paul agrees to switch. They do so and he slumps against Rose. Rose rides at a steady pace for a while. Though she finally hears the sound of moving water.
"Paul" Rose says shaking him awake when they reach the stream. Its a fast moving stream. Perfect.
Paul opens a sleepy eye. "Whaaaa?" He said still drowsy.
"Give me all of the weapons except for the daggers and the worst bow." Rose says her voice filled with authority.
"Why?" Paul asks but he still hands them over.
"Because" Rose says her voice impassive, like always. "I highly doubt a peasant would own a knight's sword. If we are caught, which may or may not happen, the weapons will be our death sentance."
"But" Paul protests a whine entering his tone. "The bow is weak and I can't really fight with anything but a sword."
"Well" Rose says arching an eyebrow. "I suggest you learn." And with that Rose throws the weapons and the royal clothes in the river, its swift current taking it far away.
She goes over to the horse and swings herself on. Paul does the same but is in a mental shock. "You- you-you" he stutters.
"Yes Paul, I did" Rose says over her shoulder. "I did only was necessary for our survival."
Then leaning to the horse Rose whispers "giddy up Bronx". The horse's name was Bronco but Rose said it like Bronx, nobody knew why. Rose spurs the horse into a gallop and they speed off into the Subon countryside. They needed to get far away, to a good hiding spot before sunrise. Quickly now.
Rose finally stopped when they came to a large wheat field. Oh I hope it isn't time to harvest. Rose thinks before crawling in. It covers all of them, even the horse.
"Pas de craintes ou inquiÃ©tudes dans tes bras aimants"
No fears or worries in your loving arms
"Velantium me a malitia"
Shelter me from harm
"Unilinde mimi na uovu"
Protect me from evil
"Jas sum vaÅ¡ata á¸±erk"
I am your daughter
"Buona e bella"
Good and lovely
"Sorria para mim misericordioso Deusa"
Smile on me merciful Goddess.
Rose whispers this prayer under her breath. She always loved this prayer from when she was younger though she was always conficted about it now. Did the Goddess even listen or care to those who said this prayer but were not good. Everybody was lovely. That had some form of beauty but not everybody was good. Rose, no Circelain, Rose was nobody. Circelain had done bad stuff for a good cause. But what if the cause wasn't even good?
Rose shakes her head. Stop that. Your only going to give yourself a headache.
And then Rose falls into a deep sleep, the sun starting to rise.
Thanks to Google Translate for helping me change these phrases into a beauty that is worthy of an Isamonian. Also thanks to everybody who reads and comments. I know its early but thank you.
Also thanks to Linde for making my story cover! I couldn't have done it.