Show them the joy and the pain and the ending
She is not a morning person, nor has she ever been. When the servants arrive to awaken her bright and early the next morning, they find not a potential princess, but a bleary-eyed, frazzle-haired mess. How they thought they could turn that into princess material, she has no clue. But, nevertheless, it seems they will try. She is offered a dressing robe, which she takes while suppressing a massive yawn, before being steered into the outer chambers that have been assigned to her.
The smell hits her the moment she enters the large room, causing her mouth to water as she sniffs the air appreciatively. She loves breakfast, and this particular breakfast smells divine. She does not need an invitation to find the side-board nestled into the elegant little dining nook filled with heaps of mouthwatering foods. There is far more food crammed onto that one small table than she could possibly hope to eat in a week, but hell if she wouldn’t try.
In a trice, she has found a plate and began piling food onto it, barely paying attention to the earnest servant (Jillee, she thinks) trying to explain to her what their plan for morning preparations is. Apparently a bath is to follow breakfast, but she’s not quite sure. It’s hard to pay attention with the eggs and ham and french toast calling her name. In no time at all, she has stuffed herself to bursting with delicious food.
She could definitely get used to this.
But almost before she has the opportunity to settle back with a replete sigh, she is swept up by the group of servants and hustled into the wash room. She stops abruptly, causing some hapless servant to run smack into her and eliciting profuse apologies. She is not paying any attention to the poor woman however. Instead her mouth is gaping open in amazement as she stares at the decadent tub that fills the room. She has never before seen such a brilliant (and ostentatious, she might add) set-up for bathing. She could lie flat out in that tub and not touch any of its sides! To top it off, the massive thing is sunken into the floor and already filled with steaming, fragrant water.
It takes little convincing to get her out of her night clothes and into that beautiful masterpiece of a tub. She doesn’t even care that at least three people are seeing her naked. What the hell does she have to hide anyway?
They leave her alone for a short time to complete her bathing and allow her to relax in the hot water. As far as she is concerned, however, they did not leave her alone for nearly long enough. In short order, they have dragged her from the miniature pool (all but kicking and screaming), dried her off, and offered her a dressing gown. She has barely gotten the thing tied before she is urged into the adjoining room. A room positively overflowing with women and fabric and bits of ribbon and lace.
A pleased grin curves her lips as a small kernel of delight blossoms in her chest. Now this would be fun.
--
As it turns out, her definition of fun and theirs is entirely different. Rather than getting to oooh and ahhh over luxurious fabrics and pretty scraps of lace, she is instead poked and prodded and thoroughly measured. By the time a consensus has been reached and a gown begun, she is wholly sick of the entire process. She wonders, briefly, how anyone could stand to do this day in and day out.
In the whole mess of measuring and preparation, they almost forget to give her the note about her date with the heir tonight. Apparently, she would be one of the first to meet him. This doesn’t bother her nearly as much as it does her team of tailors and beauticians. The information sends them into a flurry of activity and frantic hand waving.
She would have rolled her eyes if she hadn’t been promptly hefted from her seat and trussed up like a Christmas goose. In short order, they have her in her undergarments and are beginning on her hair and face. Her hair is expertly tamed and curled before being pinned into a loose up-do that clears her face of her normally wild locks and allows them to fall gracefully down her back. Her make-up is applied lightly, accentuating her already fine features and high cheek-bones.
She is somewhat loathe to admit they had actually done a very good job.
And when the dress is finally finished and she is placed carefully into it, she cannot help the small smile the tugs at the corners of her lips. They had taken her few suggestions into account and had otherwise done a very good job capturing her style and personality in that one simple dress. The dress is white with a fitted bodice and loose, flowing skirt. The material shimmers faintly in the bright afternoon light. Over the dress she wears a tailored jacket trimmed with gold edging, accentuating her slim figure while enhancing a bosom that was usually as slim as the rest of her. With her vibrant red hair, the dress has a stunning effect. Certainly she had never before believed she could look this good.
And damned if she wouldn’t impress the prince, even if her ultimate goal isn’t to marry him.
--
In no time at all, it is time for their date to begin. Despite her best intentions, Heartfire can feel a flutter of nerves low in her stomach. She struggles to keep the scowl off her face at the realization. How could she possibly be nervous? She doesn’t actually have any expectations of this meeting!
Apparently, her subconscious needs reminding.
As she descends the stairs, she reminds herself to smile. She tries for a moment, but as soon as she sees the prince, the smile slips from her lips as her brows reach for her hairline.
He is definitely not what she was expecting. Indeed, he is far too handsome for her peace of mind. Weren’t royals supposed to be all weird and inbred?
And the fact that she actually thinks he is handsome does not bode well for her at all.
He is smiling at her as she reaches the bottom step, a dimple in his cheek and amber eyes crinkled at the corners in the most charming fashion. She forces herself to return his smile as he takes her hand to bow over it and brush the air above it with a kiss, but the curve of her lips feels stiff and wooden in comparison.
Crap. She had better get herself together here.
”Lady Heartfire, if I’m not mistaken?” he asks in a voice as smooth and charming as the rest of him. For a moment, she can barely even manage a nod.
Clearing her throat, she attempts to speak without squeaking. ”Prince Francis.” Those two words are all she can manage at that moment. His grin widens at that, amusement bringing a sparkle to his warm eyes. Heartfire stiffens, preparing to be completely offended.
”Ah, a woman of few words I see. How refreshing.” Heartfire blinks at him for a moment, thrown completely off guard by the comment, before a sudden laugh escapes her lips. She brings one hand up (the one not claimed by him) to stifle her laughter as she simultaneously tries to choke it back. This only results in her nearly swallowing her tongue and inducing a fit of coughing.
Francis, for his part, is very helpful and gentlemanly through the whole ordeal, gently patting her back and offering her a handkerchief, even if he is chuckling while he does it. Heartfire snatches the crisp piece of cloth from his hands, pressing it her face while she catches her breath. ”Good lord, don’t do that!” she exclaims when her breathing is finally under control and coughing fully suppressed.
”Excuse me?” he asks, eyebrows arching in surprise. She throws him a mollifying glance before replying with a rather amused ”If you wanted to kill me, there are simpler and more effective ways to do it.”
The comment incites more laughter from the sandy-haired prince before he offers her his arm. ”You are a treat, my dear,” he says with an amused smile. ”Shall we find somewhere a little less public?”
Heartfire takes his arm with alacrity, smile back upon her lips. At the very least, she would not be bored with him.
--
From the grand staircase, he takes her through a number of smaller chambers, leading her to the back of the palace. There he leads her to another staircase, this one smaller and more obscure. ”Where are we going?” she asks, curiosity piqued.
He only offers her a broad grin and a (totally not adorable) wink before simply saying ”You’ll see.”
From that point on, there is simply no turning back. She is completely enchanted.
--
After several sets of stairs, they arrive at a small door. Opening it, Francis leads her through to a tower and another set of stairs curving around the outer edge. After several more minutes of stair-climbing, they are let out into one of the several turrets adorning the palace. A wide grin stretches her lips as she gazes out one of the four windows offering a beautiful and unhindered view of Illea’s capital.
She is barely paying attention to the prince as she releases his arm and steps forward to stare out the window at the landscape stretched out before her. ”It’s beautiful,” she whispers, awe filling her soft voice.
”Yes, it is,” Francis says simply. She glances only briefly at him, distant smile curving her lips as she turns to gaze back out at the lovely view before her. It takes her several long minutes to realize he had not been staring at the view when he had said that.
Brows lowering, she turns to stare at him contemplatively. He is still looking at her, a faint echo of his former smile still on his face as he studies her just as closely as she does him. After a moment that seems to last an eternity, she finally asks ”Why am I here?” This causes one brow to rise and a slightly confused ”What do you mean?”
She pauses, taking a deep breath as she searches his eyes for some clue. ”I mean, why me? There were hundreds… no, probably thousands, of other girls. So why pick me?”
His face clears as understanding dawns, but rather than offering any sort of explanation, he merely smiles a small, secretive smile before shrugging one shoulder and saying ”Why not?”
For a moment, she is sorely tempted to box his ears. Certainly he could not miss the scowl that darkens her features at that non-committal response. But with a swiftness and ease that astounds her, he has distracted her from her disgruntlement by taking her arm and showing her the city. With an obvious depth of love, he points out and explains several of the more interesting areas of his home to her.
They spend the next hour simply talking, laughing and smiling as they share in each other’s likes and dislikes as well as past glories and foibles. Before she knows it, their two hours are up and he is escorting her back down the stairs. She is somewhat surprised to find herself disappointed that their time together has come to an end.
She had never even expected to like the prince, much less enjoy spending time with him. For a moment, she is entirely discombobulated by this realization. What the hell is happening?
The thought frightens her a little, so in that moment, she firmly decides not to dwell on it any longer. Whatever happens here, she supposes she’ll just have to roll with the punches. She’s pretty good at that anyway.
When they have once again reached the grand staircase, he pauses, turning to look at her with a slight smile resting upon his lips. She returns it with one of her own, brilliant blue eyes fixing upon his amber ones as he softly whispers her name. ”Heartfire… It suits you, you know.”
She laughs at that, glancing down at her hand that had somehow ended up entwined with his. ”Please don’t tell my parents that,” she says, humor lacing her tone as she lifts her head to meet his gaze again. ”I will never live it down.”
He grins in return, lifting his free hand to brush a finger gently across her cheek. ”Your secret is safe with me,” he says in confidence, an amused twinkle in his eye. Her stares into her blue gaze for another long moment. And, for a moment, she thinks he might kiss her. For a moment, she almost wishes he would.
But then he draws back and she releases a breath she didn’t know she was holding. ”Until tomorrow, my dear,” he says finally, disentangling his fingers from hers as he turns to go.
In a rather pleasantly stunned haze, she returns to her room.
--
The night gives her time to reflect upon what had happened the previous evening, and she spends most of the following day alternating between disgruntled and confused. Unlike the previous day, today is almost boring in comparison. He goes on dates with the other girls, and, for a while, she has absolutely no idea what might be happening. At least until she happens to run into another of the Selected while strolling through a massive gallery of portraits.
A girl is there, staring dreamily out the window as Heartfire rounds the corner. She takes in her pale pink dress and dark brown hair with a practiced sort of bland interest. Were she not dying of curiosity, she might have simply kept walking. But when the opportunity presents itself, she simply cannot resist finding out anything she can.
Stepping up to the window next to the girl, she looks her over curiously before introducing herself. ”Hi,” she says simply. ”I’m Heartfire.”
The girl jumps, apparently not realizing she had been approached. A wide, hazel-eyed gaze finds hers, mouth rounded in surprise. ”Oh!” she says, clasping her hand dramatically over her heart. ”You startled me!” Heartfire barely resists rolling her eyes. Hello, Captain Obvious. ”I’m Alyssa,” she finally adds.
”Nice to meet you Alyssa,” Heartfire replies, offering her a small smile. ”Have you met the prince yet?”
The brightening of her features and glistening eyes tell Heartfire everything she needs to know before she even says a word. ”Oh yes!” she gushes, hands fluttering aimlessly as she turns to face Heartfire. ”He is simply amazing! Have you met him?”
Heartfire does not even get the chance to respond before Alyssa is continuing, ebulliently espousing Francis’ qualities with a fervor that dumbfounds Heartfire. Holy crap, if she’d known she was going to start such a clamor with one simple question, she would have steered clear! As it is, she is forced to stand and listen to the chipper girl go on and on for the next ten minutes before she is finally able to somewhat politely extricate herself from that hot mess. From that point on, she stays well clear of any of the other Selected. At least until the time comes for them to gather for the elimination.
To be perfectly honest, she hadn’t truly considered the elimination until now. She knew it was coming, but she never really truly thought about what it might mean to be eliminated. Now that the thought is in her head however, she can’t seem to shake it.
It shouldn’t bother her, but for some reason it does. Enough so that she only picks at her dinner before sitting in fidgety silence until someone comes to tell her it is time. And when she arrives at the room, she is uncustomarily nervous and distracted as they await the announcement of Prince Francis’ decision.
Heartfire
i filled up my senses with thoughts from the ghosts