Ivy sat quietly in the carriage as it rocked back and forth, making her slightly nauseous. She ignored the sickening drop in her stomach every time she looked out the window and saw the dry, deserted country. She had known that she was to be sentenced out here for a long time, still it had not prepared her for the scorching heat and the unavoidable sense of disaster.
"Winston, how much further?" Ivy asked, her long, regal neck stretching to get a better look at him. She caught a glimpse of his bald head, shining with sweat from the sun. Wisps of gray hair moved slightly in the breeze, but the old man didn't look back.
"Not long, Miss. I suspect tha' we have, oh, five minutes to go," he replied, shaking the reins to make the carriage go faster.
"Thank you," Ivy smiled, her lips felt cracked and her cheeks hurt. It had been a while since she smiled. She had refused to even give her father one last parting smile, instead offering him a grimace. This was his fault, after all.
Ivy patted her brown-blonde hair, checking for stray pieces that may have fell out of her clip. It had taken her mother a very long time to put it up this way, but she insisted as it was the last time she would be able to see her for a very long time.
The carriage jolted to a halt, causing Ivy bounce around the carriage. She turned to the old man but he was already out and opening the door. She reached out, her thin, delicate fingers gripping Winston's fleshy, dirty ones. She tried not to think of that though. She was sure to get dirty out here.
"Who'll get my bags?" Ivy asked, looking at all of them. It had taken her three days to sort out what clothing she would take and what she must leave behind.
Winston laughed. "Well, I'll help you, Miss, but I can't carry them all."
"Oh, just perfect, is this what you call being a gentleman is?" Ivy asked, opening her umbrella to protect her fair skin.
"Well, now, Miss," Winston answered, obviously insulted.
"Maybe you need to figure out what a true gentleman is," another voice interrupted. Ivy spun around to see a boy and a girl, both around her age, striding towards them. She looked at their outfits and tried to hold back the fit of laughter that was sure to come. They looked dirty and out of style compared to hers.
"And who are you, to tell me what a true gentleman is...sir," Ivy said sarcastically, her pale blue eyes shooting daggers at him.
"Colton. You know, the son of the man you'll be staying with," he replied, with a glare of his own.
"Right and...you are?" Ivy questioned the strong looking female.
"Ella," came her response, just as cold as Ivy's own.
"Are we all just going to stand her and let me dry out here in the sun?" Ivy asked, annoyed. Her father never let this happen. Winston instantly grabbed a few bags from the carriage, but Colton just stared at me, raising an eyebrow.
"I beg your pardon?" He laughed, amused by something.
"What?" She demanded.
"Don't you have two working legs and two working arms. Grab some of your own bags and while your at it learn some manners," he answered.
"Manners?" Ivy scoffed. "You have no idea what manners are! I am a lady and you should treat me as one."
Winston looked back and forth between them with his wide brown eyes.
Ivy didn't wait for Colton's response but strode towards Winston, her only companion left from this long journey, and tried to ignore the drop in her stomach. She suddenly hated her father for what he had done. She already missed the city, her mother, her father, and most importantly, the respect she had there. She didn't even want to imagine what awaited her here.
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