Her heart thunders in her chest, the scream lodged in her throat shredding through the quaking figure. A deadening horror pumps through her veins using her racing heart to gain passage to each muscle. Nixie is nailed to her spot, everything in her writhing, screaming, and running, but none of it is able to wrench themselves through the walls that confine the chaos in her mind from the rest of the world. Led consumes her, led forms her, led holds her mouth clenched in a vice grip. All she can do is watch. Watch as the colt stumbles into a death trap, watch as the cats eyes narrow, watch as muscles coil and prep for the kill, watch as the innocent colt rummages through the clover. Fangs shed their sheaths, curved daggers springing into action, filling her view, cutting her off from the foal. Only then does it hit her. I’m going to die.
Wake up her back rigid as she flew up into a sitting position. Breathing comes in grateful gasps, her gossamer gown clung to the wet patches of sleep induced sweat. The sound of three demanding claps makes her jump. “What the hell?!” Panic grips her when she finds herself across the room splayed against the cream stained wall, “where am I?” Wildly looking around the rich textures, the bright colors consume her; red, gold, cream, splashes of purple, yellow, and blue pastels; roses, daffodils, and lilies; decadent scents of exotic perfumes pass through her lungs. “What is this? a palace?… palace… palace… The Palace!” It registers where she is, what she is doing, and why she was doing it. With that her shaking begins to subside and she is able to peal herself from the wall. Silly girl, whatever are you doing? The escort from yesterday shakes his head a thin disapproving line on his face. He strides from her bedside to the doorway never looking back. Well are you coming or not? She takes a step to follow him, then two, then three. Each step easier to make until she is near the door slipping the velvety robe around her. Smoothing out the band it’s not until she has it folded and pressed in all the right spots does she bind it. Taking the collar in her hands she buries her nose in the light pink fluff the scent of freshly washed fabric, clean and aired to perfection has her listless with pleasure.
Following him through the short corridor towards another room he opens the door for her. Remembering her manners she curtsies for him before stepping through only to find herself gazing at a spread larger than any she had seen before. The amount of food could stuff her small bedroom at the farmhouse to the brim and probably spill into the other rooms as well. Ok so maybe that was an exaggeration, but still not by much! How was she to eat all of this? He snaps her out of her revere No wonder you’re so scrawny, I see you didn’t touch dinner, and now you won’t touch breakfast? He shakes his head condescending her with that sour look that seemed to always be plastered on his face. How am I going to explain this to his majesty? Her stomach announces its presence urging her forward to eat. Just as she goes to sit down someone is pulling her chair out for her. Roving over the maid her plain garments look just as clean and pressed as Nixie’s Sunday best, maybe even more so.
Sitting down she places her hands in her lap unsure as to where to start. soft cheeses, and flaky crackers look to be mouthwatering, but the smoky scent of cooked ham pulls her attention way. Scanning to find water, in its place is a pot of steamy coffee, along with cream and sugar. The spread didn’t end there though. Even as this was overwhelming, the pungent scents of tangy fruit greet her. Plump strawberries, and grapes look about to burst from their skins. Slices of mango, and melon decorate the edges flashing their colors in proud arches. A shaky hand presses on her shoulder, Dear won’t you eat? Nixie can feel tears prick at her eyes, so this is what the rebellion was about. Fighting to have this in every household? No wonder… It’s all so much. The elderly woman smiles warmly towards her. Her peach fuzz softening the friendly wrinkles that littered her skin. She takes a plate and begins to fill it with a thick slice of ham, a lump of buttery cheese, she takes the crackers flaying them along the edge, some strawberries and grapes roll around on the plate as she lays it down in front of Nixie. The hands swelled at the knuckles, knobby with years of use, though soft, they were surprisingly strong and nimble. Nixie couldn’t help but adore the loving touch of the woman, like a grandmother she never had.
She watches as the woman pours her some coffee, the thick black drink steaming from the cup. Would you like some cream and sugar? Nixie shook her head feeling guilty for consuming any of the rich food at all, taking cream and sugar as well would be just shameful gluttony. Coming out of her captivated state she asks the woman, What is your name?, the maid looked at her for a moment likely forgetting that she was talking to someone just like herself, someone that wasn’t royalty and didn’t know the customs in talking with servants. You can call me Thelma dear Nixie smiled, the name sounded right for her, practical, simple, yet gentle. Not mean at all, one meant for a strong woman full of life. Nixie, I’m Nixie she pops a grape into her mouth the round fruit filling her pallet until she bites down and the juices trickle down her throat sending delicious trills down her spine with it. Chewing on the fruit each bite splashes bursting with flavor sweet and cool, thirst quenching really.
The woman pats her shoulder before hobbling away. The escort comes back, Maybe we can get some meat on those bones after all. When would you like to start preparing? She blinks her eyes growing wide. Nixie’s index and middle finger press against her lips until she swallows the bit of cheese that she had snuck in guilty pleasure. Prepare for what? He looks at her incredulously, sighing in exasperation. Your date with the Heir. Her mouth forms a O and she pauses for a moment thoughts whirling about. How about after I draw a bath. He claps his hands sharply, and a maid scurries across the room hands folded primly against the stark white of her apron. Draw the bath Throughout the time that she had been here he had pointedly made a note of not referring to her at all, in any manner. As if she were an annoying fly on the wall that eventually would be crushed and dismissed with no afterthought.
Thelma leads through the bedroom towards the water closet that Nixie had used the day before. Last night she had been to drowsy to take a good look around, but this morning was a completely different story, her mouth gaps open as she looks to the marble floor, and the porcelain tub, the feet making it almost look like a fat bellied pig. Thelma takes the pink robe and hangs it on one of the hooks, before announcing herself I shall be right outside should you need anything miss Nixie, its Nixie The old woman smiles sympathetically, and Nixie’s cheeks flush as Thelma hands her a razor, Its best not to let a single hair be missed. slipping the dress over her head she hangs it next to the robe. The bath water looked steamy, and the perfume wafting towards the ceiling smelling like rich ladies she met walking around the market. The door clicks shut, and once again Nixie is alone with the gaudy gold and cream décor. Tall and dripping, it’s the only words she could come up with, to most it would be impressive, but to Nixie it was menacing. It was miffed that she dare present herself to them, that her presence was an eyesore and solely undesired.
Untangling her braid she steps into the water, sliding down until she is completely submerged. A giddy smile crossing her lips she could sink her head below the water without any trouble at all. Rising she grabs the scrub brush and begins to religiously scour her skin until it is raw. Mother would be so proud that Nixie had retained that much of her lesson. She then reaches for the soap bar lathering it thickly, polishing the red skin. Tender to the touch she sinks into the tub with a deep sigh, letting the suds wash away. For a minute she lays there relaxing and enjoying the warmth, but she knows not to let this go on to long. Mother always said that pruning would ruin her skin. Looking to the razor she bites her lip, taking it in her hand she had helped father shave on several occasions thus doing so now wouldn’t be so bad. Soon she is as hairless as a newborn baby, expect for the head of hair that dripped down her shoulders of course. Smooth legs brush together creating a tingle up her spine. It felt… naked… in a good way to be precise. Now she was starting to feel like she was one of the rich ladies.
Stepping into the bedroom, there is a bustling group of maids running around setting up what could be an entire entourage of supplies. They spilled over the dressing table onto the floor, fabrics falling over the bed even a corset flung over the canopy, it was pure chaos. Tilting her head she looks to Thelma questioningly. The older woman only offering that knowing smile. She guides Nixe to the middle of the room positioning her, so that she could see out past the balcony. Fusing over her Thelma extends her arms even with her shoulders, tapping her feet until the old woman is satisfied that they are far enough apart. Then someone begins to brush out her hair, she only knows its not Thelma because the touch lacked the warmth that emitted from the older woman.
She stands there silent, gazing out over the balcony, what kind of date would she want? Why was she even here, it seemed frivolous, if not desperate. She had given up on love long ago, her family needed money, not romance. Wasn't this taking it to far? Was this disregarding any respect for the royalty? Outside looked a million miles away, the attentions and whispers of the servants felt similiar to a prison. She started daydreaming about flying out the window only to dive beneath the waters of the pond below. That was it... she smiled to herself, she would take the Heir there. Even if it was the farthest shot from winning she could possibly get, at least she would taste the freedom once again. Miss She startles a pin pricking her skin the maid before her asking for styling ideas. Lace, short sleeved, neckline about here, the belt here, and the skirt past my ankles They work out the details critiqued as they go along pins prick, and tender skin grows sore, but not as sore as her feet in the newly tailored shoes.
Eventually the women looked pleased their sleeves rolled up, their faces red and sweaty, once neat buns rumpled from their work. Thelma has tears in her eyes her hands clapped together, her chin resting against them slightly tilted in admiration. You look beautiful Nixie! Nixie blushes tucking her head in attempt to hide it. Stepping towards the mirror her legs shake with nervousness, what was she going to find? Astonishment consumes her. The stranger in the mirror looked nothing like the skinny dirty girl from the farm. No this was an elegant lady decked in satin and lace. Her hair she touches in awe. The bright pink ended just below her cheekbones crimped with gentle waves. Her sapphire eyes that once looked to big was now lined with a gentle black that was almost imperceptible.
Long lashes flutter attempting to discern reality from fiction. The gentle pink highlighted her cheeks bringing out the heart shape of her face. Her rosebud lips accentuated with red, "so this is what makeup is." Her gown oh her gown, exquisite just didn't cover the glamor of it. White Lacy sleeves cascade down her shoulders ending above the elbow. Its neckline has her mouth parting it cuts across just above her cleavage, hinting at what lay beyond. Desplaying her long neck and curved collar bone. It was revealing, but at least it wasn't to scanty. The silk matching her hair was held together at her waist with a belt made of the same fabric cut so that it pointed downward. This laid just above her hips giving her all to thin frame a sense of femininity. The fabric spilled down into a train that kissed the floor. Her shoes were invisible under this, something that she had slyly intended. The white lace overlay softened the pink and gave the dress a sort of shimmer when the light hit it just right.
She turns to Thelma trembling, Thank you! Thank you so much She chokes out blinking back the tears the rest of the day blurred together, the maids trying to convince her to plan something, to put something together. She just smiled at them nodding until they gave up one by one trailing from the room. Its then and only then that she removes the shoes tucking them into the back of the armoire. She opens the door and finds the older woman standing right there. Thelma, could you bring me a fresh rose. A pink one if you please The maid nods before moving off to do as bided.
Finally the escort arrives knocking at the door, she spins hands clutching at the balcony, her stomach doing summersaults beneath her belt. For a moment he stands there his face unreadable. Then he clears his throat. I shall escort you to the meet the Heir She nods disappointment flooding through her, she hadn't impressed him. If she couldn't impress a servant then how was she to impress royalty? I never did catch your name, curiosity getting the better of her. Before he could see how nervous she was, Nixie steps through the door taking the offered rose from Thelma with a grateful smile. The older woman patting her hand You will do fine miss, No other looks as pretty as you do. Nixie takes solace in the niceties of the woman.
He steps behind her remaining silent, not offering a name. Her hand glides across the banister each step bringing her closer to her fate. Then at the top of the stairs she looks down to the steps each one she travels across has her heart thundering louder. Final step and she is on solid ground, the granite cooling her feet. Gentle breeze taking the flush from her cheeks until she summons the courage to look up at the Heir. Her lips part Oh, and presses her two fingers against her lips. She had bumped into him yesterday and didn’t even know it. Humiliated she drops her head curtsying out of respect. I am Nixie, His eyes are warm gold, but they also seem to be condescending. She notes the scowl on his face. Had she displeased him already? “Of course you numbskull”, she chides herself.
He offers a bow, formality of course, she is sure that it couldn’t be stiffer. Francis, pleased to meet you milady. Nothing could be further from the truth, at least it seemed that way to her. He assesses her just as she does to him. They stand there for a minute just looking. His hair a dark brown, curls neatly tucked behind his ears, they fall to his jaw except for one lock shorter than the rest, this one is left to tickle his forehead. His jaw firm and squared. Thick brows hover just above those perfect eyes. Tawny, and broad her eyes just reach his shoulder. But it’s his full lips that have her transfixed, her tongue wetting her own. He offers his arm and she takes it grateful to be distracted. Weaving her arm with his she lays her hand gently on top his massive hand, that if he had grasped it, she was sure it would have swallowed hers whole. She offers a tentative smile blushing as her attempt to be friendly is not returned. He looks straight ahead, not bothering with even a flicker of a glance. Leading them through the great hall the servants part the doors for them. I thought we could head towards the pond? Its more of a question than a statement, voice quivering as she tries to keep from sweating. What an embarrassment that would be. He nods leading them down the steps towards the hedged opening in the grass.
Her toes crinkle the grass, and a secret smile of pleasure has the warmth rushing through her. You will catch cold if you don’t where your shoes. Nixie gasps blushing deeper, I, uh, I find shoes to be pinchy. At this he breaks his gate confounded at her statement. Pinchy? she smiles, yes, it’s the name I came up with for them, because… I don’t know why, just sounded good I guess. His stern expression breaks and he starts laughing, a sort of awkward one, almost like he was out of practice. Large blue eyes gaze up at him in wonder, and he shrugs in response. To hell with it then! He kicks off his own shoes and stockings and this time it’s her turn to laugh. She takes off running lifting her skirts to keep them from ripping. He waits a minute startled at her brazen actions, before he too is dashing across the grass. Out of breath and now arriving at the pond she begins to slow her pace allowing him to catch up. When he does she finds herself tumbling pinned to the ground under his arm.
For a moment she is stunned into silence, he releases her rolling to his back. They stay there for a minute relaxing sprawled out in the grass. Why did you come here Nixie She bites her lip, Not quite sure accually. It was spur of the moment, all I could think about was helping my family. They fall into silence and she pulls up walking to the deck. Sitting at the end she dips her feet in the chilly water. Hoping to calm her fluttering pulse, embarrasment making her shake some more. Soon he is next to her doing the same. Looking up at him she smiles, he ignores her for the moment simply looking out over the horizon.
They spend the rest of the evening getting to know each other through awkward pauses, questions, and jokes scattered throughout. What is your activity. Hmm, this actually. I don't know how you knew this was my thinking spot She didn't know though, only that this reminded her of the pond out by the farm house, one of her other favorite places. Twirling the rose in her fingers, as the last rays of sun dip behind the trees he takes it from her slipping it behind her ear. A gentle smile creasing the once stony face. Thank you for the wonderful time. Her stomach does flips listening as the bell rings. It was over, her one night of careless fun. It was over, and she was crushed that this might be the end of it all. thank you… Francis her words trail off in a whisper.
Walking back to her rooms, she feels light as a feather, lost in the dreamy day she had spent with the prince, she doesn't notice how many hours or days go by. Food seems inconcequential, and the other contestants completely ignored. It was perfect, her time, her special moment that she owuld cherish forever. It’s not until the servants call her to the eliminations that she feels almost sick. Tears prick at her eyes, how could she start liking someone so quickly, they had just met! Yet there was something about him. She is forced from her dream world, reality crashing around her. One date never solidifies anything. Maybe it was because he wasn’t opposed to her sort of fun that she was so enthralled with the man. Stepping into the room that she was escorted to, looking to the others, she feels all that more intimidated. She didn’t stand a chance why did she ever think that she could? Nerves rack her body as she stands in the furthermost corner waiting for what was to come. Sweaty palms pressed against the same dress that she had worn to their date, knees knocking together with fear.
Wake up her back rigid as she flew up into a sitting position. Breathing comes in grateful gasps, her gossamer gown clung to the wet patches of sleep induced sweat. The sound of three demanding claps makes her jump. “What the hell?!” Panic grips her when she finds herself across the room splayed against the cream stained wall, “where am I?” Wildly looking around the rich textures, the bright colors consume her; red, gold, cream, splashes of purple, yellow, and blue pastels; roses, daffodils, and lilies; decadent scents of exotic perfumes pass through her lungs. “What is this? a palace?… palace… palace… The Palace!” It registers where she is, what she is doing, and why she was doing it. With that her shaking begins to subside and she is able to peal herself from the wall. Silly girl, whatever are you doing? The escort from yesterday shakes his head a thin disapproving line on his face. He strides from her bedside to the doorway never looking back. Well are you coming or not? She takes a step to follow him, then two, then three. Each step easier to make until she is near the door slipping the velvety robe around her. Smoothing out the band it’s not until she has it folded and pressed in all the right spots does she bind it. Taking the collar in her hands she buries her nose in the light pink fluff the scent of freshly washed fabric, clean and aired to perfection has her listless with pleasure.
Following him through the short corridor towards another room he opens the door for her. Remembering her manners she curtsies for him before stepping through only to find herself gazing at a spread larger than any she had seen before. The amount of food could stuff her small bedroom at the farmhouse to the brim and probably spill into the other rooms as well. Ok so maybe that was an exaggeration, but still not by much! How was she to eat all of this? He snaps her out of her revere No wonder you’re so scrawny, I see you didn’t touch dinner, and now you won’t touch breakfast? He shakes his head condescending her with that sour look that seemed to always be plastered on his face. How am I going to explain this to his majesty? Her stomach announces its presence urging her forward to eat. Just as she goes to sit down someone is pulling her chair out for her. Roving over the maid her plain garments look just as clean and pressed as Nixie’s Sunday best, maybe even more so.
Sitting down she places her hands in her lap unsure as to where to start. soft cheeses, and flaky crackers look to be mouthwatering, but the smoky scent of cooked ham pulls her attention way. Scanning to find water, in its place is a pot of steamy coffee, along with cream and sugar. The spread didn’t end there though. Even as this was overwhelming, the pungent scents of tangy fruit greet her. Plump strawberries, and grapes look about to burst from their skins. Slices of mango, and melon decorate the edges flashing their colors in proud arches. A shaky hand presses on her shoulder, Dear won’t you eat? Nixie can feel tears prick at her eyes, so this is what the rebellion was about. Fighting to have this in every household? No wonder… It’s all so much. The elderly woman smiles warmly towards her. Her peach fuzz softening the friendly wrinkles that littered her skin. She takes a plate and begins to fill it with a thick slice of ham, a lump of buttery cheese, she takes the crackers flaying them along the edge, some strawberries and grapes roll around on the plate as she lays it down in front of Nixie. The hands swelled at the knuckles, knobby with years of use, though soft, they were surprisingly strong and nimble. Nixie couldn’t help but adore the loving touch of the woman, like a grandmother she never had.
She watches as the woman pours her some coffee, the thick black drink steaming from the cup. Would you like some cream and sugar? Nixie shook her head feeling guilty for consuming any of the rich food at all, taking cream and sugar as well would be just shameful gluttony. Coming out of her captivated state she asks the woman, What is your name?, the maid looked at her for a moment likely forgetting that she was talking to someone just like herself, someone that wasn’t royalty and didn’t know the customs in talking with servants. You can call me Thelma dear Nixie smiled, the name sounded right for her, practical, simple, yet gentle. Not mean at all, one meant for a strong woman full of life. Nixie, I’m Nixie she pops a grape into her mouth the round fruit filling her pallet until she bites down and the juices trickle down her throat sending delicious trills down her spine with it. Chewing on the fruit each bite splashes bursting with flavor sweet and cool, thirst quenching really.
The woman pats her shoulder before hobbling away. The escort comes back, Maybe we can get some meat on those bones after all. When would you like to start preparing? She blinks her eyes growing wide. Nixie’s index and middle finger press against her lips until she swallows the bit of cheese that she had snuck in guilty pleasure. Prepare for what? He looks at her incredulously, sighing in exasperation. Your date with the Heir. Her mouth forms a O and she pauses for a moment thoughts whirling about. How about after I draw a bath. He claps his hands sharply, and a maid scurries across the room hands folded primly against the stark white of her apron. Draw the bath Throughout the time that she had been here he had pointedly made a note of not referring to her at all, in any manner. As if she were an annoying fly on the wall that eventually would be crushed and dismissed with no afterthought.
Thelma leads through the bedroom towards the water closet that Nixie had used the day before. Last night she had been to drowsy to take a good look around, but this morning was a completely different story, her mouth gaps open as she looks to the marble floor, and the porcelain tub, the feet making it almost look like a fat bellied pig. Thelma takes the pink robe and hangs it on one of the hooks, before announcing herself I shall be right outside should you need anything miss Nixie, its Nixie The old woman smiles sympathetically, and Nixie’s cheeks flush as Thelma hands her a razor, Its best not to let a single hair be missed. slipping the dress over her head she hangs it next to the robe. The bath water looked steamy, and the perfume wafting towards the ceiling smelling like rich ladies she met walking around the market. The door clicks shut, and once again Nixie is alone with the gaudy gold and cream décor. Tall and dripping, it’s the only words she could come up with, to most it would be impressive, but to Nixie it was menacing. It was miffed that she dare present herself to them, that her presence was an eyesore and solely undesired.
Untangling her braid she steps into the water, sliding down until she is completely submerged. A giddy smile crossing her lips she could sink her head below the water without any trouble at all. Rising she grabs the scrub brush and begins to religiously scour her skin until it is raw. Mother would be so proud that Nixie had retained that much of her lesson. She then reaches for the soap bar lathering it thickly, polishing the red skin. Tender to the touch she sinks into the tub with a deep sigh, letting the suds wash away. For a minute she lays there relaxing and enjoying the warmth, but she knows not to let this go on to long. Mother always said that pruning would ruin her skin. Looking to the razor she bites her lip, taking it in her hand she had helped father shave on several occasions thus doing so now wouldn’t be so bad. Soon she is as hairless as a newborn baby, expect for the head of hair that dripped down her shoulders of course. Smooth legs brush together creating a tingle up her spine. It felt… naked… in a good way to be precise. Now she was starting to feel like she was one of the rich ladies.
Stepping into the bedroom, there is a bustling group of maids running around setting up what could be an entire entourage of supplies. They spilled over the dressing table onto the floor, fabrics falling over the bed even a corset flung over the canopy, it was pure chaos. Tilting her head she looks to Thelma questioningly. The older woman only offering that knowing smile. She guides Nixe to the middle of the room positioning her, so that she could see out past the balcony. Fusing over her Thelma extends her arms even with her shoulders, tapping her feet until the old woman is satisfied that they are far enough apart. Then someone begins to brush out her hair, she only knows its not Thelma because the touch lacked the warmth that emitted from the older woman.
She stands there silent, gazing out over the balcony, what kind of date would she want? Why was she even here, it seemed frivolous, if not desperate. She had given up on love long ago, her family needed money, not romance. Wasn't this taking it to far? Was this disregarding any respect for the royalty? Outside looked a million miles away, the attentions and whispers of the servants felt similiar to a prison. She started daydreaming about flying out the window only to dive beneath the waters of the pond below. That was it... she smiled to herself, she would take the Heir there. Even if it was the farthest shot from winning she could possibly get, at least she would taste the freedom once again. Miss She startles a pin pricking her skin the maid before her asking for styling ideas. Lace, short sleeved, neckline about here, the belt here, and the skirt past my ankles They work out the details critiqued as they go along pins prick, and tender skin grows sore, but not as sore as her feet in the newly tailored shoes.
Eventually the women looked pleased their sleeves rolled up, their faces red and sweaty, once neat buns rumpled from their work. Thelma has tears in her eyes her hands clapped together, her chin resting against them slightly tilted in admiration. You look beautiful Nixie! Nixie blushes tucking her head in attempt to hide it. Stepping towards the mirror her legs shake with nervousness, what was she going to find? Astonishment consumes her. The stranger in the mirror looked nothing like the skinny dirty girl from the farm. No this was an elegant lady decked in satin and lace. Her hair she touches in awe. The bright pink ended just below her cheekbones crimped with gentle waves. Her sapphire eyes that once looked to big was now lined with a gentle black that was almost imperceptible.
Long lashes flutter attempting to discern reality from fiction. The gentle pink highlighted her cheeks bringing out the heart shape of her face. Her rosebud lips accentuated with red, "so this is what makeup is." Her gown oh her gown, exquisite just didn't cover the glamor of it. White Lacy sleeves cascade down her shoulders ending above the elbow. Its neckline has her mouth parting it cuts across just above her cleavage, hinting at what lay beyond. Desplaying her long neck and curved collar bone. It was revealing, but at least it wasn't to scanty. The silk matching her hair was held together at her waist with a belt made of the same fabric cut so that it pointed downward. This laid just above her hips giving her all to thin frame a sense of femininity. The fabric spilled down into a train that kissed the floor. Her shoes were invisible under this, something that she had slyly intended. The white lace overlay softened the pink and gave the dress a sort of shimmer when the light hit it just right.
She turns to Thelma trembling, Thank you! Thank you so much She chokes out blinking back the tears the rest of the day blurred together, the maids trying to convince her to plan something, to put something together. She just smiled at them nodding until they gave up one by one trailing from the room. Its then and only then that she removes the shoes tucking them into the back of the armoire. She opens the door and finds the older woman standing right there. Thelma, could you bring me a fresh rose. A pink one if you please The maid nods before moving off to do as bided.
Finally the escort arrives knocking at the door, she spins hands clutching at the balcony, her stomach doing summersaults beneath her belt. For a moment he stands there his face unreadable. Then he clears his throat. I shall escort you to the meet the Heir She nods disappointment flooding through her, she hadn't impressed him. If she couldn't impress a servant then how was she to impress royalty? I never did catch your name, curiosity getting the better of her. Before he could see how nervous she was, Nixie steps through the door taking the offered rose from Thelma with a grateful smile. The older woman patting her hand You will do fine miss, No other looks as pretty as you do. Nixie takes solace in the niceties of the woman.
He steps behind her remaining silent, not offering a name. Her hand glides across the banister each step bringing her closer to her fate. Then at the top of the stairs she looks down to the steps each one she travels across has her heart thundering louder. Final step and she is on solid ground, the granite cooling her feet. Gentle breeze taking the flush from her cheeks until she summons the courage to look up at the Heir. Her lips part Oh, and presses her two fingers against her lips. She had bumped into him yesterday and didn’t even know it. Humiliated she drops her head curtsying out of respect. I am Nixie, His eyes are warm gold, but they also seem to be condescending. She notes the scowl on his face. Had she displeased him already? “Of course you numbskull”, she chides herself.
He offers a bow, formality of course, she is sure that it couldn’t be stiffer. Francis, pleased to meet you milady. Nothing could be further from the truth, at least it seemed that way to her. He assesses her just as she does to him. They stand there for a minute just looking. His hair a dark brown, curls neatly tucked behind his ears, they fall to his jaw except for one lock shorter than the rest, this one is left to tickle his forehead. His jaw firm and squared. Thick brows hover just above those perfect eyes. Tawny, and broad her eyes just reach his shoulder. But it’s his full lips that have her transfixed, her tongue wetting her own. He offers his arm and she takes it grateful to be distracted. Weaving her arm with his she lays her hand gently on top his massive hand, that if he had grasped it, she was sure it would have swallowed hers whole. She offers a tentative smile blushing as her attempt to be friendly is not returned. He looks straight ahead, not bothering with even a flicker of a glance. Leading them through the great hall the servants part the doors for them. I thought we could head towards the pond? Its more of a question than a statement, voice quivering as she tries to keep from sweating. What an embarrassment that would be. He nods leading them down the steps towards the hedged opening in the grass.
Her toes crinkle the grass, and a secret smile of pleasure has the warmth rushing through her. You will catch cold if you don’t where your shoes. Nixie gasps blushing deeper, I, uh, I find shoes to be pinchy. At this he breaks his gate confounded at her statement. Pinchy? she smiles, yes, it’s the name I came up with for them, because… I don’t know why, just sounded good I guess. His stern expression breaks and he starts laughing, a sort of awkward one, almost like he was out of practice. Large blue eyes gaze up at him in wonder, and he shrugs in response. To hell with it then! He kicks off his own shoes and stockings and this time it’s her turn to laugh. She takes off running lifting her skirts to keep them from ripping. He waits a minute startled at her brazen actions, before he too is dashing across the grass. Out of breath and now arriving at the pond she begins to slow her pace allowing him to catch up. When he does she finds herself tumbling pinned to the ground under his arm.
For a moment she is stunned into silence, he releases her rolling to his back. They stay there for a minute relaxing sprawled out in the grass. Why did you come here Nixie She bites her lip, Not quite sure accually. It was spur of the moment, all I could think about was helping my family. They fall into silence and she pulls up walking to the deck. Sitting at the end she dips her feet in the chilly water. Hoping to calm her fluttering pulse, embarrasment making her shake some more. Soon he is next to her doing the same. Looking up at him she smiles, he ignores her for the moment simply looking out over the horizon.
They spend the rest of the evening getting to know each other through awkward pauses, questions, and jokes scattered throughout. What is your activity. Hmm, this actually. I don't know how you knew this was my thinking spot She didn't know though, only that this reminded her of the pond out by the farm house, one of her other favorite places. Twirling the rose in her fingers, as the last rays of sun dip behind the trees he takes it from her slipping it behind her ear. A gentle smile creasing the once stony face. Thank you for the wonderful time. Her stomach does flips listening as the bell rings. It was over, her one night of careless fun. It was over, and she was crushed that this might be the end of it all. thank you… Francis her words trail off in a whisper.
Walking back to her rooms, she feels light as a feather, lost in the dreamy day she had spent with the prince, she doesn't notice how many hours or days go by. Food seems inconcequential, and the other contestants completely ignored. It was perfect, her time, her special moment that she owuld cherish forever. It’s not until the servants call her to the eliminations that she feels almost sick. Tears prick at her eyes, how could she start liking someone so quickly, they had just met! Yet there was something about him. She is forced from her dream world, reality crashing around her. One date never solidifies anything. Maybe it was because he wasn’t opposed to her sort of fun that she was so enthralled with the man. Stepping into the room that she was escorted to, looking to the others, she feels all that more intimidated. She didn’t stand a chance why did she ever think that she could? Nerves rack her body as she stands in the furthermost corner waiting for what was to come. Sweaty palms pressed against the same dress that she had worn to their date, knees knocking together with fear.