Letter to Notre Dame de Paris
Nov 17, 2008 16:58:48 GMT -5
Post by Cendrillon on Nov 17, 2008 16:58:48 GMT -5
Cendrillon left alone in the tower of a bedroom he supposedly shared with his oft-gone prince was never a pretty sight, unless you are like most people, and consider an attractive youth lounging around poutily in short skirts and stockings terribly pretty. Cendrillon tried very hard to spend as little time as he could there, but it was made very hard by the way the rest of the court tended to treat him. He was of low breeding, they'd say, he was improper, he should not be flaunting his position as bride as he did. Although Cendrillon did not consider lurking the halls in something other than drag "flaunting", he could understand their point, and besides, he didn't object to dresses provided it was for a good cause, and as he understood it, as far as causes went, it didn't get any better than masochistic love-making.
But tonight, waiting for Prince Mourant to get bored with his advisors and join him in that particular crusade, Cendrillon had a purpose. Chance gossip he'd heard a few nights ago about a so-called "Paris Below" and what he had at first thought was simply a famous cathedral had piqued his interest. Now Cendrillon sat at an ornate writing desk and wrote, in loopy but sharp handwriting, a letter addressed to an angel who might in reality have no reason to read it, not that he thought of that.
But tonight, waiting for Prince Mourant to get bored with his advisors and join him in that particular crusade, Cendrillon had a purpose. Chance gossip he'd heard a few nights ago about a so-called "Paris Below" and what he had at first thought was simply a famous cathedral had piqued his interest. Now Cendrillon sat at an ornate writing desk and wrote, in loopy but sharp handwriting, a letter addressed to an angel who might in reality have no reason to read it, not that he thought of that.
Dear Notre Dame;
Uncertain as I am of what you know of the little underworld province of Under-the-Hill, whence you receive this letter, I shall endeavor to detail a brief history. It is a fey province that rules over the dead in a very lovely court, and Under-the-Hill, as an outpost, surfaces in the beautiful city of Paris. It is ruled by a prince who might as well be emperor for all the deference his court (rightly!) shows him, Mourant, a just, temperate, and ravishing ruler. Once a century, Mourant chooses a new Immortal Bride...[/blocquote]
"So I imagine he has a cache of them," muttered Cendrillon, pouting for a moment, but not writing this down......and here in the 19th, he has accepted a Parisian boy who begs to make your acquaintance. Under-the-Hill is technically home to me, but the good neighbors do not have much sense of nationality, and of devotion to a city much less. It is lovely, and exhausting, to say the least. I have never been out of Paris before.
He paused again, wondering when the entire thing had collapsed into informality deserving of a diary. Then he tapped the table a few times and placed pen back to paper to finish.I wish to return, if only for a visit, if you would accept my company. With the greatest respect,
Cendrillon Rien
Signed with a flourish. Cendrillon closed this with blue wax in the shape of a pretty skull with flowers blooming from the eyesockets and wrote the address, "Notre Dame, Sous-Paris" on the other side of it in rather swirly lettering he found to be pleasing. The next time he was in the carriage with his lordship, he slipped it out into the night, expecting rather demandingly that it would find her.
It never occurred to him to be rejected.