[hr][hr][center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180221/49bcc0b2957deef9bc393fe1c8c068d4.png[/img][/center] [center][img]https://media.giphy.com/media/xASvPhQ6oK6DercoIQ/giphy.gif[/img] [img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180313/5506d32c50e8261bdbe2967c0dfaabf7.png[/img] [img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180313/dba0b7b2fc00426a68610bd6f43f8fc9.png[/img] [/center][hr][center][b][color=4169E1]Location:[/color][/b] Servants' Quarters - The Palace [/center][hr] Unlike some, Lyra enjoyed the early morning hours. There was a serenity to it, a calmness before the chaos of the day, that she found quite therapeutic. She often found that it was during this time that she could set the tone for her day, and she would do that by centering and grounding herself with a little weapons practice. Perhaps it wasn't most people's ideal choice of morning activities; however, to her it was a vital part of her day. The mere repetition of the various fighting techniques she was trained in meant that it would all be committed to muscle memory. As such, should the need arise to take up arms, she would be plenty prepared. Today was different from most though. It was coronation day. It was a day that marked the beginning of a new era, the reign of her mistress, the soon-to-be [I]Queen[/I] Valda Kaur Kaimana Sarai. It was a day of excitement for many and apprehension for others. Lyra was smart enough to know that plenty were opposed to the idea of a witch taking the throne. To Lyra, that meant this day was fraught with many potential dangers for Valda. Many people were traveling from lands far and wide to The Palace, many who could have ill intent. There were more people than there were guards, which could potentially provide a small window of opportunity for someone to try to kill Valda before she is crowned. Not on Lyra's watch. She would be watching Valda like a hawk today, whether her young charge liked it or not. Lyra woke up an entire hour earlier than usual, five o'clock sharp, just to prepare for the day. Something in her gut told her that there was no room for error today, so she pushed herself more than ever before during her routine weapons practice this morning. It was now nine o'clock. She had long since been dressed and ready for the day, and she was now sharpening and doing other routine maintenance on her weapons with what time she had to spare. Her weapons were laid out in the middle of her small bed in her similarly cramped quarters. The reverberating sound of metal on whetstone could be heard as she worked on sharpening one of her daggers with rhythmic strokes. A sudden knock on her door broke her concentration, her hand stopping mid-stroke. Her pale blonde brows furrowed the slightest bit, as she wondered who would be interested in seeing her at this hour. The corners of her lips pulled up into smile as Myrus's voice came to her ears. She set the dagger and whetstone aside and wiped her hands on a rag before walking over to the door. With a friendly smile on her face, she opened the door to reveal the young prince on the other side. Despite him being several years younger than her, he was still half a foot taller than her, meaning she had to look up slightly to meet his gaze. [color=4169E1]"Prince Myrus, it is a pleasure as always to see you. I hope you are well,"[/color] she spoke, her voice kind and genuine. She gave a small curtsy, partly out of habit but still a show of respect nonetheless. She then opened her door wider, allowing him to enter if he so wished. [color=4169E1]"Now, what is it that I can do for you?"[/color] she asked, her green/blue eyes glancing down at the book he held in his arms before going up to meet his gaze once more. [hr][hr] [hr][hr][center][img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/171220/5ec03724db4435074dd4b4d274e4bc3b.png[/img][/center][center][img]https://media.giphy.com/media/110Okk1WuT2DrW/giphy.gif[/img] [img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/180314/abc611f5d6861ee4cd8263a9bfed6ddb.png[/img] [/center][hr][center][b][color=808080]Location:[/color][/b] Port Witch Coven House [/center][hr] Malekith rolled out of bed late this morning without a care in the world. No really, he doesn't care, like, at all. And he most certainly does not care for the mornings. He's a night owl through and through. The early bird catches the worm? More like Malekith tortures the early bird all throughout the night, so he really doesn't want to be woken up during those godforsaken hours before eight and ten. Catch my drift? Well, when he had [I]finally[/I] risen for the day, he stumbled over to the mirror and basin bleary eyed. His nearly black hair was tousled in every which way from sleep, and his bare chest glistened with a thin layer of sweat that almost seemed to accentuate his muscles. He scrubbed the remnants of blood off of his hands in the basin, his mind wondering to last night's victim. She had been a beautiful brunette before he was done with her. It had been an enjoyable night of torture for him, despite her obnoxious screaming. Talk about the pitch that woman could attain. It was terribly grating on the ears. Perhaps it would have been more reasonable for Malekith to have caught up on sleep the night before the coronation, considering Fleur's plans, but he couldn't help himself. He had just known that that brunette was the perfect specimen from the moment he had laid eyes on her. And he was most certainly not disappointed. But onto new, better things. The day was still young and sure to be filled to the brim with new opportunities for a little mischief, if his Witch Mother Fleur had any say about it. With a smirk at his reflection, Malekith combed out his hair and then pulled on his usual dark, leathery attire, before leaving his quarters forthwith.