~*~Whispers of War

Inspired by drabble prompt "port."

Port Royal.

Serene and cool, on the front. Everyone knows their place. Nobility parade about in lavish carriages with the curtains drawn, commoners appropriately bow their heads and defer to the priviliged.

The nobility believe they hold absolute rule over their little kingdom.

The nobility are blind.

Blind to the piercing glare after a dust-obscured carriage. To the muttered curse, hidden beneath the shade of a brow. To the quiet huddles in taverns, becoming rowdy under the eye of an EITC official. To the weapon squirreled away in the rafters of a home or beneath a mattress--just in case.

The revolution is coming, you know. Very soon, these fractured pieces will snap together to form an unstoppable whole. The uprising will be swift and bloody, but will succeed.

We will suffer noble fools no longer.

The people will rule.

We, Port Royal, will have our freedom.