The festival had arrived, and the entire city was flooded with tourists and commoners. The people were excited, the music rang loudly throughout the city.
Commotion from across the way, and guards directing traffic, as they continued to move people along. Hearing the gathering others joined in to see what it was about.
Gifts that were being presented towards His majesty as commoners would ask where to place them. Guards directed them towards the main entrance, to turn them over towards Mahad.
Who was at the main gate, behind the royal gates. The other guards kept the people at bay, so that no one came into the castle until it was time.
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Mr. Lingo was already awake, and he had gone to Abigail's room to see if she was there. She wasn't— and when she was not, he immediately thought she chose the latter.
Assuming so, he decided to proceed towards the castle without her. Wearing a long robe with dazzling studded materials.
He would lock up his home, and start to head where the crowd was going. Although, he knew it would take some time to arrive, which is why he was up so early to get there.
Not that it would change much— as tons of others were headed there at the same time. Which felt like no matter the time it would be flooded.
Not that it bothered him, as he liked taking his time to get to destinations. He usually stopped to admire the sensory, and things around him.
However, upon walking, he had stumped upon a young woman approaching him. He could hear all the commotion, but the gentle touch of someone— as he felt someone against his shoulder.
" .... If you need help, just let me know. " The small accent with the woman against her lips would form, her demeanor sounding all too familiar.
" .... Ah. So you've decided to stay? " Mr. Lingo remarked.
Abby said nothing for a moment or two, and then she responded.
" For now. "
" And you must be wearing the dress I had laid out for you? " He also remarked. Not being able to fully see what she had on, but even in his blind vision saw blurry fragments of her attire.
It was a very elegant, long dazzling sparkling pearl dress, with long dangling earrings to match. Long white silk gloves that went up to her elbows, and white high heels.
Abigail's hair was long and straight, as it draped over her shoulders and back. Abigail felt like a complete fool, and also unusual.
She didn't typically wear something so heavy, expensive and uncomfortable. It felt as though she was being sucked and pulled all over her body.
Although, looking around the city, tons of women were dressed similarly towards Abby. The festival must've been some type of royal gathering, that required women to wear the best.
" ... I am... unfortunately.. " She replied back to his question.
Mr. Lingo would look in her direction before turning heel and proceeding to continue to walk to the castle. Talking as he did so.
" Unfortunately? You have gone too long in time— not wearing what women wear. That in itself is the problem, girly. "
" ... If women wear this, I would much rather be a man. " She remarked back disdainfully.
Mr. Lingo would stop dead in his tracks, his voice becoming sharp and firm.
" Silence! —- say no more... " He told her.
" You will say no such things— you are a woman as much as I am a man— and the God's wanted you as such. Do not curse yourself on something you were not destined to be. "
Abigail disagreed with Mr. Lingo's comment, but she didn't wish to upset him further. For some reason, oddly enough he had reminded her of her father.
His tone, and how he approached every topic with such clarity and depth. It was admirable, as she would hate to admit. In truth, she was feeling a somewhat connection to the man.
Which is why she didn't wish to force such things on him, as she would look away, indicating she had nothing else to say.
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Eventually, Lingo and Abigail reached where the majority of the city folk were camping out at. They are all anxious and eager to go into the castle.
Upon closer look, Abigail was in amazement at how vast and broad the castle was. The structure of the entire building, how it felt like it was dipped into black and gold paint.
She had never seen such a beautiful antique of materials, crafted into such a refined beauty. A living space that only the cream of the crops could afford.
At that point Abigail knew that whomever their king was, was unbelievably wealthy. So wealthy in fact, that his family was known across the vast open sea.
Far beyond the reaches of their city, and towns. It was as if this king was so well known, that rumors of speculation circled around him. Though, as known as he was, they never truly knew about him or his appearance.
People have heard the tales of the admiralty of the king, and also his abnormal structures. Then there were the tales of how he was extremely powerful but vengeful.
That the God's were on his royal family's side and would strike down the world if they ever tried to turn against them. Others have heard the tales that His Majesty was a monster and had fangs, and wings like an eagle.
That he looked disfigured and deformed, almost unimaginably repulsive. That is why he didn't wish to marry, as that would mean he would have to look at someone more beautiful than himself.
Whichever tale was true, Abigail didn't know, but because she was now here in the moment. She wondered about what he did look like.
She didn't really care in a sense, but her mind was just curious to know who was telling the truth. Funny enough, she had never once heard anyone claim that he was handsome.
Thus, implying he must've been horrific. After a certain while, Mr. Lingo would eventually speak towards Abigail. Telling her what was about to happen.
" Ah— the guards shall now direct us into the ballroom. "
" ... The ballroom? " Abigail questioned.
" Indeed. It is where the grand ball shall take place. It is the pillar of the festival. Where it shall truly all take place. There is food, the finest wines and beverages, the best music, and the finest wealthiest people. "
Hearing all what Mr. Lingo stated only made Abigail that much more hesitant and distant. She felt chill go up her spine— as the wind blew wildly around them.
" Order! I shall have order! " A guard shouted aloud towards the crowds.
" Everyone please head inside towards the northwest gate! Follow the guard into the ballroom area! The festivities are inside! I repeat— follow the royal guard into the ballroom area! "
Abigail felt a gasp of air leave her, as she felt the shove and push of others. All hungry to get inside, as she couldn't understand why.
She never truly grasped the gravity of the festival, being this her first time. So getting inside first meant a lot to the commoners. As the wealthiest people were already inside.
" We must get inside before they do not let us in. " Mr. Lingo calmly remarked.
Abigail not knowing if that would be possibly based on Lingo's terrible walking problems and blindness. She also wasn't knowing they would make it, due to the pushing and shoving of others.
She was becoming overwhelmed, and also could feel some of them stepping on her dress now and again. It was becoming irritable, as she would sometimes shove back and push others away from her.
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" Your Majesty, where is he?! " Zealot questioned, as he watched from a balcony safe from the crowds below.
The ballroom was massive, and one of the most elegant and extraordinary pieces of the entire castle. It was massive enough to withhold two grand trading ships.
Therefore, holding an enormous and lovely crowd filled with food, drinks and music was nothing. The royal court wore wealthy and fancy clothing, as they had all gathered from above.
" I am sure— he will be along shortly. " A woman without the royal court remarked.
" Do not worry, master Zealot. "
Zealot looked over at the woman, as he slowly removed the binoculars from his hand downward.
" I am not worried... but His Majesty should be, being late does not look good for an impression upon his kingdom... "
Hearing Zealot remark, Barclays came through along with Mahad, as Mahad eyed Zealot as he walked past.
" It wouldn't be the first time he was late.. " Barclays mentioned aloud towards them.
" And I sure it shall not be the last. " Mahad added.
" I shall go and find His Majesty... " Mahad remarked as he turned and walked off from the royal court.
Zealot eyed him as he rolled his eyes a bit and looked towards servants and whispered something to them. The servants bowed as they walked off, as Barclays stood beside Zealot.
" Tell me something Zealot, is it because you care for the well-being of our king, and not your own selfish reputation, yes? "
" My dear friend, I'm afraid you have been reading too many of your economic habits— as my reputation... is your reputation... " Zealot commented back.
" And if His Majesty cares for all our well-being he wouldn't be late to a ball we have thrown in his honor. "
" ..... Meaning? " Barclays questioned.
" ..... Meaning, that I work for the benefit of the crown Barclays...., and I shall do anything to make sure that it is indeed safe and secure. " He said with a fake smile towards Barclays, as he walked off along with his other servants.
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Not long after Mr. Lingo and Abigail had eventually arrived inside the ballroom. Shocked to see she had actually made it in. She was immediately overtaken by the sensory.
The walls, the decorations, the historical statues, and the designs. It was all surreal towards her, as if she had stepped into the Gods heavens.
It was speechless for her, as she slowly walked inside along with the old man. The old man spoke to her as they casually followed the crowd.
" ... Well, speechless I see. "
Abigail nodded to his remark as she didn't bother to actually look at him. She was too in tune with her surroundings. She didn't have a shed of modesty, mannerism, and causal connection in her body.
She was both awkward, hot tempered, and easily distracted. So to make matters worse, she overheard many talking, and chatting in such a way she didn't comprehend.
It was unsettling, but she attempted to try and look presentable. It was the least she could do. She didn't want to be kicked out, all after the work she had done to finally get here.
She would sigh, and think to herself about her father, how would he feel knowing where she was now? How and what would he say towards her? He'd probably be proud, perhaps disappointed?
Truthfully, Abigail didn't know, but what she did know was she was somewhat proud of herself. Making it this far in life, finally able to tell herself she was here, and not only here but in the castle.
She assumed she'd never in her wildest existence, think to herself she would be within a meter of the castle. The walls surrounding her like crystals, as she looked upon everything.
Her eyes gazed towards the orchestra that played softly and lit up the ballroom. The chandeliers that dangled from the massive ceilings. The reflecting mirrors and the stairwells that were in the center that led towards other parts of the castle.
She felt as though she was in a dream, a dream to which she would never want to wake up from. Though the feeling of loneliness sunk inside her as well too, and the deeper she looked around, the more it took its toll.