Halyn stretched in a rather bored manner and gave a big yawn; she sighed but knew her wait would soon come to an end. Zack would give a rather blunt opinion of the latest candidate within if not before dinner occurred and never stayed much longer after that. As the second moon rose in the sky, Halyn’s ears twitched when she heard the familiar sound of leather shoes making a hasty retreat down the steps.
The ebony locks of the princes were once again unruly and not in the careful form it was in a few hours ago. The prince unbuttoned his collar as he made his way to traveling party and nearly flew down the massive marble steps. Quickly putting on a sour face to hide her glee she turned her stead to start on their journey home. Prince Zachery discarded the jacket and pulled off the stiff dress shirt he was coerced to put on. Taking in a deep breath of air he sighed in relief when he finally way freed from those damnable restraints that people called fashion. Formal dressings made him feel as if he were being suffocated.
"And pray tell my lord; may I know what was wrong with this one today?" Halyn asked. Zack didn't utter a word, but Halyn anticipating her friend’s mood was never one to give up easily. She prodded her horse to meet Zack's pace and was soon neck and neck with her Royal Pain in the Neck. She pulled back her horse and gave him and his ride a satisfactory sound nudge. Zack's golden eyes, wide with disbelief met with the surly young feline forest fairy's yellow eyes.
Sighing, Zack searched his mind for an appropriate way to describe his latest venture. "Wait, wait, please let me name the reasons you’ve already used." Halyn said noticing his trouble and ticked off his excuses with her paws. "She's too tall, short, fat, t...
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...tolerable, well educated and groomed?" the elder asked.
The merchant’s chest puffed up. “Of course she is educated! I would never allow any child of mine to walk around without eloquent knowledge on reading, writing, math, and the arts or carrying an intellectual conversation! She is but a year younger than our beloved Prince, a favorite among our social circle and is of proven fertile background!” His patience waned seeing his prize nearly at hand.
The council once again spoke among themselves, their voices hushed and he could clearly make out what they were saying. He had always disliked being patient; but this, he reasoned, was a very special occasion, one worth the wait. After what seemed to be an eternity to the eager merchant, the elder member turned and with a vaguely amused face gave him the council's answer. "It would seem there is to be a wedding to plan."
“The dowry promised me was 600 florins. I went to dine with her that evening… The Saturday after Easter… I gave her the ring and then on Sunday evening, March 30, she came to live in our house simple and without ceremony.”
"To promote a woman to bear rule, superiority, dominion, or empire above any realm, nation or city is repugnant to nature, contumely to God, a thing most contarious to his revealed will and approved ordinance, and finally it is the subversion of good order, of all equality and justice."
The Royal School was a new experience for her. At home, she was used to walking around barefoot and wearing as little as possible to keep cool in the warm Hawaiian climate. Because the school was administered by the Cookes, who were missionaries from New England, she had to wear western clothing, meaning she ha...
For example, she concedes that she hopes John Quincy Adams “ had no occasion...to repent [his] second voyage to France” and that “ Nothing is wanting with [him] but attention, diligence, and steady application” in order to comfort her son with ease into the foreground of the diplomatic venture and in order to display that she wishes a creation of nothing but perseverance and admirable aptitude as an effect. In addition, she expels that “ It will be expected of [him]... under the eye of a tender parent” that “ improvements should bear some proportion to [his] advantages” to press the idea that through this experience Quincy Adams will submit to the development of every common man’s goal of modesty and affluence. These examples assist the purpose because not only do they amplify the reasons and outcomes she believes he will gain, but they also envelop her love and care for her son a basis for him
History is divided on whether Boudica a scorned woman or did she have a justified reason for her retaliation. The book, Real Lives Boudica the story of the Fearless Icini Queen, by Gaby Halberstam, published by A&C Black in London, is a story told by Boudica herself. She is known for taking down over 70,000 Roman men and women due to the pain that they inflicted on her and her people. The book is written in the first person about the historical events that unfolded in Boudica’s life in a fictional story. This book does an amazing job at making the reader feel as if they were Boudica and an idea of what her personality would have been. Halberstam was able to give details through research and filling in the blanks. There are many famous men and women from our history that we would like to have a personal conversation with and this book is almost like sitting across from Boudica, listening to her tell her story.
In the novel The Once and Future King, by T.H. White, the character, Queen Guenever, is depicted as a confused and lost woman in an arranged marriage. She had an internal struggle with a shameful secret, an affair with the ugly knight, Lancelot. In the time of King Arthur, women were limited to what they could do, and what decisions they were able to make. She ultimately made some wrong choices in her life, which led to the disapproval from those around her. She was in her marriage by force and had no malicious intensions, but did what she felt she needed.
Queen Isabella was born in 1451, in the city of Castile, Spain (Leon 75). She was the daughter of King John II and Arevalo (Maltby par 1). Her family was very strong Catholics and she was born and raised a Catholic. Her brother, Alfonso, became King. He banished her mother, younger brother, and her from the kingdom (Leon 75, 77). Isabella had chestnut hair with natural red highlights and her look was demure and soft. She went to school with nuns at Santa Ana Convent. At school, she fancied reading, writing, music, and painting. In her free time, she was tutored at home with her older brother. After her childhood, she learned treachery was everywhere. As a teenager, her family forced her to marry a scoundrel. That day, she prayed to God for deliverance. On the way to their wedding, he choked and died from bronchitis. From that day on, she was ready for what was coming her way.
Within the Beauty and the Beast inspired ten pages of Angela Carter’s short narrative “The Courtship of Mr. Lyon”, the narrator employs the contradicting nature of the Palladian house prior and succeeding the presence of Beauty to express both the mental and physical deterioration of the Beast. When Beauty first returns to the house after several months hiatus, she notices a rather “doleful groaning of the hinges” as she opens the door (Carter 50). Such a noise is reflective of the fact that they have not been physically oiled for a long duration of time, and that the Beast has ceased to maintain their smooth transition for her return due to an ever weakening state of hope. Similar to the lamenting of the hinges, it is only his desolate cry that plagues the once silent tranquility of the manor.
The Red Queen by Victoria Aveyard does not require a great imagination. Ms. Aveyard does a splendid job of using imagery. The plot of the novel flows in a way that makes it feel real. The book is told from the perspective of Mare Barrow. Throughout the book we see the occurrences of her life. She progresses a great deal for the duration of the novel.
“It was a large, beautiful room, rich and picturesque in the soft, dim light which the maid had turned low. She went and stood at an open window and looked out upon the deep tangle of the garden below. All the mystery and witchery of the night seemed to have gathered there amid the perfumes and the dusky and tortuous outlines of flowers and foliage. She was seeking herself and finding herself in just such sweet half-darkness which met her moods. But the voices were not soothing that came to her from the darkness and the sky above and the stars. They jeered and sounded mourning notes without promise, devoid even of hope. She turned back into the room and began to walk to and fro, down its whole length, without stopping, without resting. She carried in her hands a thin handkerchief, which she tore into ribbons, rolled into a ball, and flung from her. Once she stopped, and taking off her wedding ring, flung it upon the carpet. When she saw it lying there she stamped her heel upon it, striving to crush it. But her small boot heel did not make an indenture, not a mark upon the glittering circlet.
It had been more than a year since she had last seen him and for her nothing about him changed. His eyes still held a big mystery that only a few people she knew had the privileged to decipher. She was proud of the fact that she saw herself as one of those people. His demeanor remained lazy and bored and nothing about him emit that he was genius inside.
A tall, stately conquistador sat high in the saddle of his blood red, high stepping stallion, its long tail was perched high over his back, the masculine man adorning the magnificent creature sat as if in a rocking chair as the high spirited animal danced about. The conquistador held his stallion firmly by his reins, forcing his steed to step to the side as the rest of the regiment moved along the trail, trudging alone in the balmy heat, he removed his helmet tucking it firmly under his left arm against his body, he located his handkerchief that he had tucked into his left sleeve of his shirt, retrieving the white hanky Carrasco begin dabbing his handkerchief around his forehead and the back of his neck, mopping up the corpus amount of perspiration that was running down the sides of his face and trickling down the back of his neck, gobs of black hair tossed about his head as he dabbed his handkerchief about trying to keep the sweat from running into his armor. Dear God, he thought to himself, this is intolerable, what did I do to deserve such punishment? It is only spring and alrea...
intellectually. She would go on to be a lady's maid, governess, teacher, translator, and writer throughout
It was about seven o'clock, scarcely light in the cold bedroom. Whiston lay still and looked at his wife. She was a pretty little thing, with her fleecy, short black hair all tousled. He watched her as she dressed quickly, flicking her small, delightful limbs, throwing her clothes about her. Her slovenliness and untidiness did not trouble him. When she picked up the edge of her petticoat, ripped off a torn string of white lace, and flung it on the dressing-table, her careless abandon made his spirit glow. (238)
She was one of those pretty and charming girls born, as though fate had blundered over her, into a family of artisans. She had no marriage portion, no expectations, no means of getting known, understood, loved, and wedded by a man of wealth and distinction; and she let herself be married off to a little clerk in the Ministry of Education. Her tastes were simple because she had never been able to afford any other, but she was as unhappy as though she had married beneath her; for women have no caste or class, their beauty, grace, and charm serving them for birth or fa...