A Sour Departure

The winter had yet to subside, albeit no longer was it raging in uncontained wrath like it did last night. However, it seems as though the heavens was yet to have a snippet of joy, seeing as it was sporting a melancholic blanket of clouds—shadowing the land of Sappherine with gloom.

Finding herself buried in heaps of olden parchments, the young princess had busied herself within the confines of the royal library, indulged with a book pertaining the common tongue.

Speaking in third-person became such a horrid way to express one’s self—she realized--especially when she was already six years of age. The notion would’ve been plausible if she was three…Nowadays though? It would be a death sentence to her poor palms.

Yes, Madame Wolbrook would hit her with her infamous stick, as punishment for misconduct. Fortunately, the old stingy woman was out of town and won’t be coming back anytime soon.