paradisa | ♔ un || christmas eve

Entry tags:

!intro,
anne boleyn

♔ un || christmas eve

[ Written most elegantly; ]

My Dearest and Most Beloved Elizabeth,

I bring you the most blessed of tidings. Can you guess? I will let you take a few moments to make use of your wit and figure it out while I continue on. (Come now, surely it would be obvious to you!)

Your father, the King, is doing quite well. He is of good cheer and fine health, God bless His Majesty. He asks after you, and I promised I would send word of his love and ever present concern for you, my sweet rose.

And speaking of such, while we were in the gardens just recently, I discovered the most beautiful of roses. Though the King insisted I not touch it for the thorns it bore, I daresay I had it cut anyhow! And wouldn't you know, the thorns harmed me not. It reminded me of you, and so I had it pressed as I read of once in a book. It is my sincerest wish that you look upon it and know of my eternal love and devotion to you.

Oh, I cannot keep silent on the matter any longer! Have you guessed yet? No? Well then, I will tell you, but only because such tidings should be shared. You will soon have a little—

[ The writing is drawn to a sudden halt, interrupted by the sound of a woman's soft sigh, and then the clattering of odds and ends being dragged off the table by said woman as she slides to the frozen floor with a thump. ]

[ ooc; Any journal comments will be responded to after Anne's been awoken by Elizabeth and had the 411 dished out! ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I have yet to find a single servant of which you speak.

They usually do not appear unless something specific is requested ... generally, in the form of a spoken or written wish. If that unsettles you, I could certainly bring you something, myself.

Why ought it unsettle me? What bothers me most is that there are none to stay tending my bed chambers at all times.

[ So she doesn't expect ALL of her servants to be here, but come on, at least one should go! Who's going to guard her while she sleeps and be there as soon as she awakens to get her ready? Weh. ]

What is your name, sir?

My name is Lemony Snicket, should it please Her Majesty, and I offer my apologies for not having given it earlier. I myself have only been here just shy of two months, but I am willing to tell you what I know of Paradisa, if you have not already heard it from someone else.

My daughter has told me much, but I would not be opposed to further counsel. You may tend to me in my chambers.

[ Because apparently there is nowhere else to be found that is private! Although she has only had a little bit of time to explore. ]

I believe it is six floors up, and the name you seek is Anne Boleyn.

[pardon him while he catches flies for a moment. ANNE BOLEYN?! as in, THAT Anne Boleyn?! ... oh heavens. thankfully he has enough tact to flip out about this silently, because saying things like "madam, shouldn't you be headless and therefore unable to speak" is not exactly recommended when speaking to royalty, especially royalty that doesn't really know where they are or what in blue blazes is going on yet. he reaches up and pushes his jaw shut, composing himself, then clears his throat]

Very well, Your Highness... I myself reside in one of the towers, so it may take me a short while to reach you, but I will be there as soon as I can. Is there anything else you might require?

[he is, at the very least, bringing tea]

Other than the blankets you have seen fit to mention, nothing that readily occurs to me.

[ Which doesn't mean she won't demand more before long! Until then, she'll wait, albeit somewhat impatiently. ]

Then I shall be there as soon as I am able.

[and so he is, though it takes him a little while to figure out how to carry blankets AND a tea tray up to a queen while still looking somewhat respectable. in the end, he makes a bundle of the blankets and ties them around with some red ribbons he pilfers from the Christmas decorations outside his door - he doesn't celebrate it anyway, so no matter - and slings them over his shoulder like a sailor's duffel in order to leave both hands free for the tea tray. normally, he would take the stairs for the exercise - one never knows when one may need the cardiac stability to be able to run for great distances - but in order to keep the tray steady, he takes the elevator up after stopping at the kitchen. once he finds the door with her name, he balances the tray on his hip long enough to knock.]

Your Highness? It is I, Lemony Snicket ... I come bearing means of warmth, and hopefully further answers to your questions.

[ Anne's had enough time to re-acquaint herself with her chambers. They're all connected, and as familiar as the ones she had at court, only frozen over and missing most of the smaller items. She finds no extra clothing in the trunks, no brushes, no rouge. Perhaps she should count herself lucky there's a chamber pot!

She's just considering making some wishes that she'd heard so much about, when the voice of a very out-of-breath man calls at her entry door. She abandons her bedroom for the sitting room, standing near the grandest chair and resting her fingertips just lightly against the top—not quite touching, for fear of freezing her fingers off.

Nonetheless, she appears the image of a Queen, chin high and gaze calm but commanding. Still, Anne is ever aware that she is a summer queen trapped in the court of a winter fey. ]

Enter.

[enter.

right.

he spends a moment glancing down at the tray in his hands, then quietly mumbles a wish that he had someone there to open the door for him. a penguin slides by and jumps up long enough to catch the doorknob on its way by, then goes skating off. great. now he has Julius Fucik stuck in his head. he pushes it to the back of his mind and nudges his way through the just-barely-open door, smiling and giving her a respectful nod.

one can't exactly bow with a tea tray, after all] Your Highness.

[ She's a little surprised to find a tray of tea with him, (even more to see him lugging the blankets like a pack mule) but it's a pleasant sort of surprise. Motioning towards the nearby table for him to set the tea down, Anne nods in return.

A funny-seeming man, with a funny-sounding name. But also the first to offer her service in person, outside of her own daughter, and she respects that enough to give him quarter. He seems pleasant enough, but then they all seem pleasant when facing a queen, don't they? ]

I have never heard of your family. Snicket, is it?

Yes, of the Boston Snickets, though we drifted west to New York after a time. [he sets the tea down, and begins unpacking the blankets for her] I am afraid that I hail from a time far ahead of your own, and as such, I offer my apologies in advance for anything I say that might confuse you.

[ But everything he just said confused her.

Seriously, she's trying not to give him a blank look, but it's inevitable. How is she dreaming up this bull? ]

...That is why you are here, yes? To inform me so that I am not confused. Heaven forbid I must lay every quandary at my esteemed daughter's doorstep.

That was why I came, yes, but I'm afraid that most of what I have to tell you will sound unfortunately preposterous... I assure you, despite how it would sound, it is true to the best of my knowledge, as I have found no evidence to the contrary.

We have all been brought to this place by an anonymous force beyond our control, which has all but been confirmed to be the very castle itself, Paradisa.

Yes, this much my daughter has informed me of.

[ Anne finally sits, though perched on the edge because it's cold yes. She doesn't seem too put off by this notion (dream dream dream!), and only curious to know more. ]

Might I ask how this was confirmed, though? How a building itself can boast sentience?

Several documents were found, prior to my arrival. A reliable acquaintance of mine, Professor Raine Sage, has all of the details. But the gist of it is, there is a book with records of other castles that were formed by earlier residents who deserted this one. Castles with similar inclinations. Unfortunately, there wasn't very much detail given about how their sentience is actually possible.

And how are we to know that these documents weren't merely the creation of residents overrun by their own superstition?

They were quite old ... even if they were residential falsifications, Your Highness, they were falsified a very long time ago.

[ Well that means very little to her. Lots of stuff the Vatican would say happened a long time ago, too, but she's not crass enough to blurt that out right now. ]

If you say as much, I have little choice but to lay my trust at your feet. But then I must ask what the very nature of Paradisa is. For, in truth, mine own daughter walks the halls nearly twenty years my senior. How is this not amiss?

Strange things are done with time, here ... I myself am the ward of a young girl whose last memory of home is from at least two years in my own future.

Then how can they truly be called memories, and not lunacy?

When something that seems insane becomes the status quo, so to speak, is it still truly insanity?

I am not insane.

[ What does she care what everyone else calls themselves, if she thinks they're insane? That's Royal logic, for you.

Anne will finally nod to the tray he brought in. ]

What, pray tell, did you bring me along with your blankets?

High tea, actually, with watercress sandwiches and Lady Grey. I was not sure when you had last eaten before arriving, and thought it an appropriate welcome gift.

Tea?

[ Might be hard to tell if she looks offended or just confused. She waves a hand to beckon the tray closer, so that she might look in the actual tea pot. ]

I had expected some wine, or even cider. I require no medicine, especially not one that steams.

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