I've been feeling majorly nostalgic for the characters from a medieval-conspiracy-mystery book I attempted to write back in sixth grade, so here, have the first chapter of it. It's not as cringy as I thought it would be, but still pretty bad. Meh, here we go anyways.

~*~

The roar of the crowd rumbled through the cold, steel walls, and their cries could barely be made out. I couldn't hear the words they were saying, but I could certainly hear their screams.

I rubbed my forehead, trying to focus on the task set in front of me, but the cries made it hard. Frustrated, but yet terrified at the same time, I lifted myself off my soft, comfy bed and scurried to peek out the window, pushing back the pale lavender curtains in order to see the troublesome people.

As I pushed back a lock of my midnight black curls behind my ear, I studied the midnight-late scene; the normally happy and innocent townspeople were rallied outside the gates of the castle, I realized as I looked down on them from the third floor of the royal home. Many of them holding pitchforks, they stood there, yelling the same word over and over again.

Their loud cry reached my ears once again, and I used both hands to grip the poor curtains, and pulled it back to cover me even more. I didn't want the people to see me watching them.

A young boy, of my own age, with freckles lit up by the afterglow of the torches, seemed to be leading the townspeople, pushing up the dark side of them in order to rebel against the King. He stood the closest to the pair of huge, metal gates, and I could see his encouraging smirk whenever he glanced up the towers, where my room was very well placed.

Frightened, I took a step back and tried to hide myself with the curtains that I was so fearfully clasping.

The castle was set up with two large wings, sticking out of each side and facing the closest village, a bottom half of an 'H' shape. I lived in the West Wing, near the top of the tower that stood alone at the edge. I could see everything, from the East Wing, to the gates, to the garden, to the main part of the castle, and to the window of the King's study.

Having a room from my tower comes in handy, and on nights like these, I wouldn't have to leave my room to see what the commotion was all about.

Though I'd rather be somewhere else at that moment, I thought to myself as I saw the dark expressions on the people's faces. How could such kind people transform into such cruel monsters?

Biting my lip, I mustered up some courage as the boy looked away from my tower, loosened my grip, and inched closer to the large window. Although I was terrified to watch the townspeople act in such an unnatural way, I dared not let them out of my sight, until one of the King's trusteds, or the King himself, came out to deal with the people.

The trusteds: a special group of people, chosen by the King for their unquestioned loyalty and skills. There are twelve of them in all, with eleven men and one woman. Their role is to maintain peace wherever they go and to perform special tasks for the King.

The female trusted is a very rare person, since important roles, such as the trusteds group, are barely given to a woman without being born into her level, even more so for her, for she is just a girl my age! But she has proven herself to others in the castle, though I sometimes wonder why the King chose her in the first place.

The gates creaked open, and a figure in a black cloak stepped out. The boy, sensing the person's powerful presence, whipped around and studied the cloaked person carefully, even though the cloak kept its owner very well hidden. The crowd's cries fell as they tried to listen to any words that the two might exchange.

The figure stood silently for a while, until finally a hand sneaked out from the cloak and pulled the hood off the head, revealing dark brown locks.

Natasha, the single female trusted, said something calmly, while some townspeople suddenly found that they had to be somewhere else and snuck off.

The boy straighten up to his full height, finding that he was still shorter than her, and retorted back. Natasha shook her head firmly, pushing her lips together tightly, then pushed past him to speak to the people.

The boy glared at her, but could not work up the courage to stop her. After all, Natasha was a figure of power, though I had a suspicion that she had more power -or was possibly more threating- than she let in on whenever we spoke about positions and ranks, which was actually rare.

Natasha glanced back at the freckled boy one last time before returning her full attention to the townspeople. Her mouth opened and her lips moved, but I couldn't hear what she was saying. The people, however, seemed to hear every word Natasha spoke.

I sighed with relief, and allowed myself to let go of the curtains as I decided that the townspeople didn't need my supervision anymore, now that Natasha was down there to help them. I wandered to the other side of my bedroom, where my vanity table sat. I peered into the mirror and adjusted my light green gown, then tucked my black curls back into place.

"As long as I'm up," I silently decided. "I might as well walk around the castle while everyone's asleep. I never see the grand halls without a dozen servants rushing around. Maybe it's time I see the castle for its true beauty."

My mission chosen, I glanced over myself one last time, just to make sure I was presentable in case I ran into one in higher rank than I. Twelve years living in the palace, and you learn important things, like the more traditional royals cannot respect you if you don't look properly acceptable. Presentable equals respectable, I was informed by the Princess herself as children. It was the motto she was raised knowing, and Her Highness has yet to be mocked or disrespected.

After going over my mental checklist, I smiled softly to myself, barely remembering the crowd outside. My plain black flats making a small click sound with each step, I wandered to the other side of my chamber, where the door was, and quickly let myself out, closing the door behind myself. Making myself as silent as possible, I slipped down the hallway and began my journey to the gallery.