Bewitched {Being Rewritten}

Chapter Fifteen

Servants and courtiers bustled through the halls rushing to make sure they and everything else was perfect for the King's wedding. Darla's steps were evenly paced as she strolled through the hall, a small grin pulling at her lips each time a servant stopped to allow her to pass or a noble born paused to wish her a good morning.

"Lady Darla," A voice called, causing Darla to come to a halt. She waited for the man to catch up to her, listening to the click of a cane and the slow sound of something dragging behind him. "I wished to congratulate you, my lady, on your raise in status."

Darla turned to face the man, eyes narrowing at the perceived slight. "Thank you, Lord Larys, His Grace honors me."

The dubious man grinned, slowly stepping closer. His hand not holding the cane stretched out, tilting a beautiful red flower towards Darla. "Malvales," He supplied, waiting until Darla took the flower in hand to continue. "Indigenous to Bravoos, by all rights it shouldn't be living here."

Darla's eyes flicked up to Larys's. "Nature has a way of thriving when it is determined enough. All it needs is the smallest crack in a foundation to sprout."

"Indeed." Larys agreed, his gaze rested heavily on Darla. Not dissimilar to what she was used to, but something else rested in the depths of the lord's eyes.

"Speak plainly, my lord." Darla's gaze narrowed, growing frustrated with the man's games.

"You're perhaps in need of an ally?" He offered.

"And what do you offer, Lord Larys, that is not already readily available to me?"

"When one is never invited to speak, one learns to observe. A practice I'm sure could be of use to the King's mistress."

"I shall consider it, my lord." Darla nodded to Larys, walking away from the man. The red blossom dangled from Darla's fingertips, stopping her from dismissing the proposition.

★・・・・・・★

As Darla neared her new shared apartments her pulse quickened within her veins. Ser Rickard nodded at her, flashing a smile as he opened the door for her. Darla forced her feet to slow as she entered the room, her eyes darting around taking in the busy figures rushing around the room. Servants followed her into the chambers, bodies brushing past her as they carried trunks from the Tower of the Hand to the Queen's new apartments.

Darla pushed past them, moving to stand in the doorway of Alicent's bedchambers. Dark eyes took in the new Queen's figure as she stepped into her wedding gown. Auburn curls had been piled and pinned atop Alicent's head, supporting the ornate golden diadem.

Warm, brown eyes widened as they met dark brown in the mirror's reflection. Darla pushed off of the doorway, intending to move to Alicent's side when a servant stepped in front of her, stopping Darla.

"Your gown is awaiting you in your chambers, my lady. As well as servants to dress you."

Darla glanced at Alicent over the servant's shoulder, noticing the way Alicent's face fell further as Darla was steered away.

"Have my dress brought here, Her Grace and I shall finish readying together." Darla instructed, moving past the servant and to Alicent's side. Dark eyes swept over Alicent's face, offering the younger girl a reassuring smile that Alicent attempted to mimic. "How are you feeling, Alicent?"

Honey brown eyes dart away from Darla, glancing at the servants still rushing around the room.

"Leave us." Darla ordered, her gaze remained locked on the younger girl, ignoring the servants as they followed her command.

"Thank you." Alicent whispered once they were finally alone. Her fingernails dug into the flesh surrounding her thumb, picking away at the skin.

A sigh fell from Darla's lips as she took in the state of Alicent's fingers. She slowly stepped away, her feet carrying her to the nearby washbasin. She wet a cloth before moving back to Alicent's side, carefully taking Alicent's hand in her own. Studying the skin surrounding her fingernails. Alicent stares up at Darla, eyes wide with fear and dread. Darla gently runs the cloth over Alicent's fingers, tenderly wiping away the dried blood.

"You're nervous," Dark brown eyes glance up at Alicent, meeting her watery gaze. An unfamiliar emotion pulls at Darla's heart, a feeling of emptiness deep in her stomach.

Alicent's chin falls, pressing to her chest in an attempt to curl in on herself.

"I'm," Darla's tongue struggles to form the words. "I'm sorry."

Alicent sighs, forcing herself to stand up straighter. "It is not your fault."

The pit in Darla's stomach grows larger, threatening to engulf her. She steps back, dropping the cloth beside the basin.

The door clicks open, startling Darla. Her gaze snaps to the servant standing in the open doorway holding Darla's dress. "I've brought your gown, my lady."

"There's no need," Darla shakes her head attempting to banish the strange emotion flooding her being. "I've decided to ready myself in my own chambers."

She moves to the door, pushing past the servant. Part of her aches to turn back just for one more glimpse of Alicent, but Darla feared what she might see.