Spoiler! :
Spring.
The beginning.
The sun rises
Old is born a new, and new life breathes its first breath.
The sun rises higher
More life springs from the dust
The trees blossom
this is going nowhere.
I closed my notepad with a defeated snap. I knew my sister would be disappointed that I was giving up so easily, but I think it was about time my sister realized I wasn’t that natural born poet she had disillusioned herself into thinking I was. I was a reader, not a writer.
Though I knew that wouldn’t fly with her, nothing I did would ever force her to accept the truth.
My father once told me my sister was born with Shakespeare in one hand, and Homer in the other; and I believed him. My sister breathed classics. Well, she breathed all literature actually. I swear my parents must have had a vision of her future, which was why the named her Imogen, my parents favorite female Shakespeare character, in the first place(though they’ll tell you it was in honor of my English Professor Uncle, who died a short time before she was born).
The thing about my sister was, she wasn’t just content to love literature herself, she wanted everyone else to obsess over them the way she did. That certainly wasn’t happening with our Fashion-obsessed elder sister, Melina. So as soon as I came along, well, let’s just say my bedtime reading wasn’t the lost puppy or Sally Sue counts to ten, but rather Pride and Prejudice, the Oddessy, and Hamlet.
I loved it though. In fact, it was because of my unusual culturalization that I found so much joy in the outdoors. I loved to play hide and seek in the eastern woods that covered most of our estate, or swim in the bend of the river the wound its way across it. As I got older nature became my place of serenity. My days were spent lying in the sun-filled meadow reading a book, or sitting by the river as its chattering lulled me to sleep.
A few years ago I had my father build a little white swing under the branch of a large oak tree. Overly storybook, I know. In fact, I got the idea from one of my sister’s novels.
The swing was my place. My place of solace and refuge. It seems to me I would spend hours here, listening to birds, the river, the wind, while the swings hummed beneath me. Back and Forth, Back and Forth.
I had another reason for spending so much time here. The Prince came to tea almost three times a week now, and I found it was much easier to contemplate my feelings away from the emotional tension of home.
I sighed. It was unnerving how many times he crept into my thoughts. The part of my life that belong to me was being taken over; consumed by his face, his voice, his smile...
I shook my head. I couldn’t think about him now, not during the one time, and one place, that I was free of worldly thoughts.
Being the daughter of the General of his Majesties Royal Army, it’s not surprising that I have been in close association with the royal family my entire life. Prince Nathaniel had been my childhood playmate. He played all the male roles in mine and Immy’s classical reenactments, and was always the Prince(not, like, himself kind of Prince) in Melina’s Damsel in Distress fantasies. He was always up for a game in the wood’s with us, or often me; as my sisters had their other priorities. He had been an irreplaceable part of my childhood, and my friend.
But now that were were older, everything I knew about our relationship was changing. Instead of tag by the creek it was tea in the parlor. Instead of laughing at some joke he made, we exchanged awkward glances and smiles. Or at least I did, as I doubt he ever felt the least bit uncomfortable or unsure of himself. And then there was the fact that every time I saw him my heart when into triple time, my skin flamed up, and my cheeks went redder that a sunset...
A trumpet blared. I jerked like awake like I’d been slapped.
He’s here.
I didn’t have any time to gather myself together, I was already late.
I leapt off my swing and raced toward the house, all other thoughts forgotten.
*****
It seemed I would not need the Prince’s help today, as I arrived at the house breathless, my heart pumping manically, sweating enough to make a pig jealous, and completely flushed.
"There you are" Melina snapped viciously "Finally decided to grace us with your presence have you?"
I didn’t have a chance to respond as I was suddenly surrounded by servants attacking my face with make-up brushes, styling my hair and scraping mud off my dress(thank goodness I’d put it on this morning, or they would be trying to strip me as well, and that would not have been pleasant).
My mother was a nervous wreck, she fussed over me even more than the servants did.
“Darcy dear you really shouldn’t leave this for the last minute” she fretted as she adjusted the dress along my hips.
“Lost...track...of time” I heaved between brush strokes.
“Off day-dreaming again I suppose" My eldest sister continued in her increasingly nasty manner. “I hope you realize how completely..." She broke off as our welcoming system informed us of our visitor.
“Come in” My mother said in an amazingly composed voiced, considering how strained it had been a few seconds earlier.
The door swung open, and in walked Prince Nathaniel.
Perhaps I should Describe the Prince. Imagine your stereotypical dream guy. With the naturally perfect golden hair that you just long to run your fingers through, sharp cheekbones, deep ocean blue eyes that could melt marble, flawless copper tone skin, and with a form that makes your head woozy. Now imagine a guy that makes glass seam rough, has a smile that could dazzle sun, and managed to steal the heart of every breathing female in the nation. Imagined that guy, then times his gorgeousness by about ten and you’ve got the Prince.
At least, that’s what the billboards say. That's not exactly what I think, mostly because I don’t believe in a perfect guy. Every one's got a flaw. At least, I think every one's got a flaw... almost every one's got a flaw...
“Thank you so much for Inviting me Mrs. Jefferson” came the 'smooth as honey with a rough sexy edge' voice(again, not my words!).
“oh don’t be daft, we love having you over, Your Highness" my mother cooed back, as we all curtsied respectfully. Nathaniel smiled. I felt the side effects coming already, lovely.
“All the same, I appreciate it, in fact, I brought you a little gift, Madam”
My Mother trilled. “For me? You shouldn't have”
. He grinned again as he reached behind his back and pulled a single red rose out from under his jacket. He presented it to her like a lover “For my favorite hostess.”
Mom blushed in a shade that rivaled mine.
“How sweet, your always such a gentleman”. He smiled again, but this time it was directed at me. I gulped. Trying to fight my reactions, and failing miserably.
“Excuse me, but I believe were suppose to be having tea” Imogen interceded. She seamed to be the only female in the room who wasn’t in a daze. Her tone sounded bored, which she probably was.
‘Right, of Course” My mother said, jolting herself out of her trance. “Let’s all head into the dining room”
Slowly every one began filing out until only the Prince and I remained. He locked eyes with me.
“After you” He said politely.
My heart fluttered as I turned to follow, his gaze burning a whole in the back of my neck.
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