A Snowstorm in August
There was nothing quite like snow to the princess of Iserath. Being from a country where snow lingered in some part of the geography at all times during the year, Emeraude was definitely one to enjoy the fluffy white powder, no matter how hard it was coming down.
She watched from her hospital room, glad she was up and mobile enough to be able to sit at the window. She was also glad her heavier dresses had been brought, along with a few of her lighter ones, for when she wanted to get dressed. The corsets still posed a problem to her taped and fractured ribs, but her ankle was healing up nicely, as was her arm. Both still remained stagnant, however, leaving little room for movement in their splints.
Still, the snow had brought up the blonde's mood. Her room had been relatively quiet since the initial visits, but Edward and Milo had brought enough books to keep her amused for a time. She had been rereading one of her favourite tales, quietly reading aloud to herself in her own natural language as she sat in the open window of her hospital room, a blanket wrapped around her.
She watched from her hospital room, glad she was up and mobile enough to be able to sit at the window. She was also glad her heavier dresses had been brought, along with a few of her lighter ones, for when she wanted to get dressed. The corsets still posed a problem to her taped and fractured ribs, but her ankle was healing up nicely, as was her arm. Both still remained stagnant, however, leaving little room for movement in their splints.
Still, the snow had brought up the blonde's mood. Her room had been relatively quiet since the initial visits, but Edward and Milo had brought enough books to keep her amused for a time. She had been rereading one of her favourite tales, quietly reading aloud to herself in her own natural language as she sat in the open window of her hospital room, a blanket wrapped around her.