![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kaolinandboneIsabella sits in her study, reading by the crescent moon. The pale beams barely light the small room, but they are more than enough for her. Bringing a candle among these books - no. Not here. Never here. She has had to instruct her servants very specifically on this matter. She turns another page, her small hand almost white in the moonlight.
The moon vanishes. The stars follow in an instant. Isabella flares the parasol that sits by her chair, catching the sudden flare of sunlight as the world outside inexplicably turns to a red-skied landscape of falling ash and foreign architecture.
Isabella snaps the curtains closed, and lets out a breath.
What's the castle thinking, making doors without telling her? This has never happened before... Well, now that she thinks of it, there have always been tales about temperamental castles that disliked their owners, but she doubts that her own castle would try to kill her. She has better control of it than that.
She tries the door out of her study, and carefully hides her relief when it opens easily to her touch. Good, at least her castle's not in open rebellion.
In that case, it must be something very important for it to disturb her so rudely. That or her castle is being sneakily rebellious. Either way, she should go find the new door.
A few minutes later, she's looking out from the threshold of a plain oak door, ash settling on her faded parasol as she takes her first look at the alien landscape. A cold knot settles in her gut: something is wrong with this place, something she can't quite put her finger on...
The moon vanishes. The stars follow in an instant. Isabella flares the parasol that sits by her chair, catching the sudden flare of sunlight as the world outside inexplicably turns to a red-skied landscape of falling ash and foreign architecture.
Isabella snaps the curtains closed, and lets out a breath.
What's the castle thinking, making doors without telling her? This has never happened before... Well, now that she thinks of it, there have always been tales about temperamental castles that disliked their owners, but she doubts that her own castle would try to kill her. She has better control of it than that.
She tries the door out of her study, and carefully hides her relief when it opens easily to her touch. Good, at least her castle's not in open rebellion.
In that case, it must be something very important for it to disturb her so rudely. That or her castle is being sneakily rebellious. Either way, she should go find the new door.
A few minutes later, she's looking out from the threshold of a plain oak door, ash settling on her faded parasol as she takes her first look at the alien landscape. A cold knot settles in her gut: something is wrong with this place, something she can't quite put her finger on...
