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Home Fiction Poopi Baru Clauvyse Avarium - Post 2

Clauvyse Avarium - Post 2

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After lunch, guardsman Thailen led the duchess and her maid back to the rooms. In the semi-privacy of her dressing room, Clauvyse took a moment to consider herself in a tall mirror.

It was apparent she took after her mother, who was from the far away country Dharongell. Her father, like the people of Eiared and especially this mountainous region of Wolvenstien, had a darker complexion with blonde hair. Clauvyse’s mother, Ayanna, had been stared at when she went out. Her light skin and flame colored hair brought her much attention from the public and many exalted her great beauty.

Clauvyse had not been down into the villages much in the years since her parents died. When she did the children would often reach out to touch her and citizens offered her gifts such as flowers or goods from their garden. Her hands were nearly invisible against snow and she had pale purple eyes. In contrast, her thick hair was a burnt auburn. She also had a shorter stature than the mountain folk.

Clauvyse sighed and leaned against the only window in the room. The glass was opaque so no one could peek, but she considered opening it to look outside. But knowing there would be guards patrolling the grounds nearby and, with Nala right outside the door, she felt better being completely out of sight.

Shifting to the floor on her knees, she pulled a box that said “In Memory” from under the nearby wardrobe, lifted the lid, and tucked the book inside under her arm before sitting again on the windowsill.

Clauvyse supposed many girls had a book like this that they would call a diary. She didn’t feel it was an appropriate term for her journal though, as it did not contain her most personal thoughts and feelings, but a record of the happenings within the manor. While she was not self-centered, she did realize that the actions and decisions of this household and position affected many lives. Her hope was that, if things took a turn for the worse, her journal would be found and could be used to discover what had happened. Or even if it wasn’t discovered for many years, maybe future generations could use it to remember her uncle as he truly was, instead of the thin facade he used for those outside the household.

Feeling the cold glass against her back, she quickly recorded the ongoings of the manor since she’d written the day before. She thumbed through the last few blank pages and realized she’d soon need another journal. She had two other books that had been filled since she had begin recording. They were hidden in different places on the estate. The very first one had been a notebook her mother had given her on her eighth birthday, intending for her to use it as a diary. And so the first page was full of a young girl’s hopes, dreams and big intentions. The rest had remained blank until years later when, in anger, Clauvyse had rummaged it from the depths of her wardrobe and wrote about her uncle. Then a small, simple plan came together. It may not be of help to her now, but knowing it might do good in the future was enough at the time.

Deciding not to delay any longer, Clauvyse replaced the book and its box under her wardrobe, and straightened her skirts. As she walked through her outer door, Nala and a guardsman fell in step with her. On her way through the halls she asked a servant to arrange for a viola tutor to come a few days to help her practice for the party. It would be simple for her to choose and perform other pieces on the piano, as there was already one in the grand ballroom.

 
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