30-Madam Clarissa

Noah

A loud rapping woke me up from my slumber, my eyes itched from the fabric of the rug and my hands reached to scratch my midnight black hair.

"My Prince, the Queen demands your presence. " I heard a loud feminine voice say.

I clicked my tongue and rose slowly, my knees still kissing the ground. I glanced at my wrinkled shirt and stared at it for a couple of seconds before wrapping it around my muscular frame. I tilted my head and thrust an arm to feel my shoulder.

"The balm worked. " I whispered to myself, feeling little or no effect of the discomfort. 

I walked towards the large crimson-red door that longed for me to open it. I opened it briskly, still buttoning up my shirt to reveal a middle-aged woman dressed in a black-fitted long gown that terminated at the ground level.

She bowed her head on sighting me.