The House of Red And Black Part Two

Hello, good friends! Here we have reached the end of another week. It looks like you all are in need of a story that can distract you from the grinds of your day. No matter how big or small, this blog and these posts are here to help you find a small slice of distraction and peace.

If you missed last week's post or if you a here for the first time (welcome!), but you may want to take a step back and start with part one: The House of Red and Black Part 1. 

For the rest of you, enjoy! 

The House of Red and Black

Part 2

The red dress of Lady Farcey swiveled the clouds into independent puffs as she crossed the way. Her eyes were sharply locked on the humble home of Lord Night. Of all the occupants in the land, he was by far the most humble, regardless of class. The shack in which he lived was simple, bare even, save for the thick grey curtains that swayed in the gentle breeze. These were the most important detail of the house, according to Lord Night. It was because of these curtains that he was able to sleep. They blocked out all light from the sun, which was handy for a soul who slept from sun-up to sun-down. It was then when his duties of setting up the sunset’s twilight colors and igniting the stars began. It was a heavy toll being Lord Night, but he was happy for the work, so long as he could sleep during the day. Otherwise, the people on the world below were in for a rough night.

The key to the dawn weigh heavy in Lady Farcey’s pocket. Being caught in the home of Lord Night was an offense so dyer that the punishment for which was unbearable. Even though Lady Farcey knew that she possessed the stealth and the wisdom to pass through unnoticed, these thoughts did little to assuage her nearly shot nerves.

With the delicacy of a seasoned thief, Lady Farcey opened the front door but a crack. She slipped inside.

Darkness greeted her. Lady Farcey inhaled deeply and kept her eyes wide. She knew that a minute or two would need to pass for eyes to adjust. The darkness did not terrify her half as much as the thought of being caught. This time passed like skin over sandpaper. Eventually, slowly, almost painfully, her eyes began to make out shadows, then sharper forms. She released the breath that had been burning in her lungs.

“Why could this not have waited until Lord Night was awake?” she wondered as she inched towards the only other door within the shack, behind which Lord Night slumbered. “Why did Covetina send me in here to do this deed?”

Lady Farcey’s red skirt touched the base of the closed door. Her heart was pounding. Her breath shook.

Her hand reached out for the brass knob, but she did not have a chance. 

The front door crashed open. 

A torturous blast of white light flooded the room, blinding Lady Farcey, dropping her to her knees. Her eyes burned through to the back of her head from the pain.

“There she is!” the cold, cruel voice of the wicked Covetina screeched. 

“Farcey!” a deep, thunderous male voice shouted.

Lady Farcey’s heart and stomach dropped. Covetina had brought the king.

“HOW DARE YOU DEFY ME!” the king billowed. There was no fear of the king waking Lord Night as the door was as tightly sealed as any vice - no noise from the outside world would penetrate that aperture.

Lady Farcey could not yet clearly see the king, but she was pleading with eyes full of tears for him to listen to her explain. But the king’s mind had long been won by the poisoned words of the wicked Covetina. All he heard was the voice of his seductress playing his actions like a master puppeteer. “Lady Farcey, you know better than most the laws of our kingdom and yet here you stand in blatant defiance of our laws. Damn you, Lady Farcey, I damn you to the House of Black!”

Through her eyes blurred from tears and from the adjustment to the light, Lady Farcey could just begin to see the cruel smile of Covetina. The purpose of this woman's plot was clear to Lady Farcey at last; it had been in the wicked woman's plan the entire time to trap Lady Farcey as until this point she was the only woman that could dare to stand between Covetina and the king.

Lady Farcey did not have the chance to feel the knife within her back before a gale-strength rush of wind swept into the humble home and overtook the weeping Lady Farcey, concealing her and everything around her in black.

~*~*~

Every resident of the Kingdom in the Clouds attended Sunday's mass with the exception of Lord Night. He alone was allowed to miss the words of God as he was the closest with the greatest deity. 

In order to keep the classes of the kingdoms separated, the House of Red took the seats on the left and right of the forward saloon. The Regulars filled the many aisles in the enormous brightly lit, white marble cathedral. In the fullest reach of the church sat the members of the House of Black. There were less than one hundred seated here. Many could not stand the shame, finding their fates worse than death. They were the first to walk in to mass and the last to leave. This way, all could see their faces, further building their shame. 

There was one spot in the church that was the grim pinnacle of shame. It stood square before the altar. The royal box beside the altar was able to look down upon the pair of chairs where the two worst offenders against their society were planted. This was where the fallen queen in her robes of black sat. Her head remained high, for her elegance never died. However, behind the glass of her eyes one could see that the same could not be said of her pride.

Mass commenced promptly at 8am. For the most part the parishioners arrived early to drop their donations in the coffers to light their candles. The colors of the brightly burning candles corresponded with the colors of the Houses. The candles of the Regulars ran with wax of white, the House of Red and Black sweat similarly. Three tall pillars were illuminated every Sunday at the back of the cathedral with these burning wicks. Two attendants of the Regulars' class kept an eye on the burning candles and helped to light the candles for the donors. 

At first when the last parishioner to enter the church made her donation of a penny to the jar to pay for her candle, nothing seemed awry. She wore her lovely black dress and as such reached for her black candle. 

"Here you are, ma'am," the attendant kindly said, but as soon as his eyes met the face of the woman in black, his hand dropped the black candle onto the white clothed table. He could not believe what his eyes were plainly telling him was the truth.

The other attendant heard the candle drop and rushed over to see if a lit candle had fallen, but she too was taken aback upon seeing this woman's face. 

In the background, the beautiful and dramatic opening hymn began to hum out from the church's attendees.

Not wanting to be terribly late, the woman in black calmly picked up her candle and respectfully lit the wick using the flames of candles from her new house. With her well known gentility, she delicately placed the burning candle alongside its bright brothers and sisters. She made eye contact with the two attendants, with not a hint of shame on her face.

She turned to take the long walk to the front of the church where she knew she belonged.

With long, graceful strides, she walked down the aisle of the church. Though the musicians continued to strum and play their morning hymnal, whispers immediately began to break the beautiful tune. People could not believe what they were seeing. Surely this elegant woman in black was a hallucination. 

With her head held high, the woman who nearly stopped the entire church procession, stepped forward and into the pillar to sit where she belonged, beside the shamed former queen.

The former queen Antionetta looked upon her company with awe, confusion and fear. 'No,' the former queen thought painfully. 'What madness must have occurred to bring this sweet soul here?'

Lady Farcey saw the expression and the pain in the queen's face, but her own continued to hold a stoic look of pride. Yes, she was in black, but she knew that her part in this plot was not over yet. Lady Farcey looked to the Royal box and stared directly at the king and Covetina. They looked at her dumbly, snickering as if they were adolescents who had played a cruel prank upon an undeserving enemy. Their childish cruelty was of no consequence for Lady Farcey. She sat in the stiff, wooden throne of shame alongside the former queen. 

Music and whispers blend together in the chapel, but Lady Farcey heard none of it. In one, graceful swoop, she looked to the former queen and through the intense gaze of her eyes said, "We shall have revenge."

~*~*~

What will happen next?!?!?!

Well folks, if you are at the edge of your seat and you can't wait to see what happens next, I'm in need of YOUR help to finish the story. That's right, as a starving writer, my craft and your escape needs support. Here's how YOU can help!

Click on this link paypal.me/SFaxon to raise our goal of $100 by October 3. What?! A hundred dollars in a week? That's nothing. I have full faith that we will reach our goal in a week. I will be posting DAILY updates to keep you informed on how we are doing.

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$1 -$19 will receive thank you emails from me.

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I'll see you soon, dear readers, and I thank you in advance for your support in this Fall Fundraising Campaign!

Your humble author,

S. Faxon

@readingescape