you're just…trapped {open}

[Rachel Genevieve Blackwood]

Rachel walked quietly through the halls of Avalon Castle, the skirts of her dress trailing on the ground. Her hair settled on her shoulders, only having been brushed that morning. She rarely went outside the castle walls, so it was not really found necessary for her to look beautiful unless other members of court or she was shown to members of society that didn't work in the castle. If it was her choice she would've gone into the garden every day or to the lakeshore. But the garden was a treat and the lake was unheard of even requesting.

Rachel Genevieve Blackwood was a frail girl, it was known by most. She sat around most of the day, barely ate, and when she walked around, she would occasionally shake as if she were about to fall over. She hadn't done so recently, but it had happened before. When she was sicker than normal she didn't walk as well as one would hope.

She hated the weakness she felt, but she never showed it. She took it with grace and with as much poise as she could. This was hard to do, it always had been and always would be. If she could, she would ask some sort of magical being brought to her to heal whatever ailed her, get rid of whatever curse she'd been given, make her stronger…she would. Without a second thought. Anything to rid her of constant weakness and pain.

The princess stopped by a window facing the garden and leaned ever-so-slightly against the wall, letting herself delight in the moment she could get in the path of sunshine and sight of the garden. Rachel breathed deeply and let a smile grace her lips.

[Cosette de France]

Cosette de France et Navarre moved down the dim stone hallway quickly, only her dress made noise as it ruffled when she walked. She was not a princess of Avalon, she was a princess of France. Daughter of King Philip I of France, she was a sight to behold. Always dressed her best, she swept down the hall, ignoring everyone else. Her back straight, her head raised, two soft hands clutching the front of her dress as she walked.

Cosette paused in her walking when she spotted Princess Rachel of Avalon. Cosette approached her and curtisied, as etiquette dictated. In the court of France, Cosette would be higher ranking, but in the court of Avalon, Rachel was the higher. Cosette smiled up at her and came up from her curtsy. Only servants waited to be released and dismissed. "Hello, my lady. How are you? Feeling better, I hope." She said.

Cosette had come to Avalon recently, only six months ago. She was sent by her father to marry one of the Avalon princes. She was the youngest in her family, nothing more but a bargaining chip. It would really be better if she was killed or died. Perhaps that was why her father sent her to Avalon alone. So far, no luck. Not even a nibble. She was everything a prince would want. Quiet and submissive, she could not read or write. She went to Mass every day, confessed three times a week, was completely virtuous. What more could these boys want?

Perhaps Rachel held the key.