Disclaimer : Cutler B or Giselle are not mine, they both belong to Disney.
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Cutler B's POV
Once, there had been a woman. A woman whom I would have done anything for.
She was called Giselle. Giselle Rosalie Harlowton. Her name brings back sweet memories of when I was young. Just like her, but then, after the sweet comes the bitter aftertaste.
Giselle was the daughter of Lord Roland Harlowton, who was the great-grandson of the founder of the EITC. He had made his fortune and his life by the Company, as had his father and his father's father. Giselle was an only child, and expected to continue the line of Harlowton by marrying a Admiral, or a Lord.
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'Father, do I have to go to this ball?' I was getting annoyed. I hated these stupid ' upper-class social gatherings'. They were pointless, and the only reason they were held was or the sake of finding a 'suitable suitor. Ha.
'Cutler, you know full well why. For heaven's sake you're 17. You need to find a lady!' I almost rolled my eyes. Exasperated, I flung myself onto the sofa and toyed with my mask. It was going to be a masquerade ball.
'What if I don't? I want an officer's life, not to be some lovesick sailor like Mercer!' Mercer. I swear he had a different girlfriend every week. Even if he was my best friend, he was always costantly talking about this girl or that girl. Yuck. I definitely didn't want to be like Mercer.
'Sir, the coach has arrived.' The butler was at the door, dressed, as he was always, impecably in a black-and white suit.
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I sighed, and leaned against the wall with a glass of whisky in my hand. I never liked whisky, but it was 'keeping up appearannces' as my father said. It was unsufferably boring. Apart from watching Mercer dancing with girl after girl there was nothing much to do. I toyed with the idea of getting an early coach back home.
And then I saw her. She was beautiful. Her hair was strawberry-blond and swept elegantly up from her face, and adorned with dark sapphires the same shade as her stormy blue eyes. She looked amazing. Carefully, I set down the glass that I was holding onto the table.
SMASH! Oh dammit. I had miscalculated where the table was. Crap. I felt myself blushing. The girl looked towards me. Hastily, I tried to shove it under the table with my foot.
'Can I help you?' I looked up. She was standing right in front of me, looking innocently bemused. Crap.
'Yes - I mean no - um' you idiot my conscience said stop blushing and act normally. 'I-I think it's OK.' She shrugged and began to walk away.
'Wait!' The words were out of my mouth before I realised. 'Umm...would-I mean-I-I-Would you like to dance with me?' I could feel myself blushing.
She arched her eyebrows. 'Certainly.' I led her onto the dancefloor. A few minutes of embarassed silence followed.
'What's your name?' Well, what else was I supposed to say?
'Giselle Harlowton. Yours?'
'Cutler Beckett' She smiled.
'Really? Son of the great Lord Edward Beckett?'
'Well...yes...'
'You are well known.' It was not an insult, but a comment. 'I have to go.' That suprised me. She seemed to read my thoughts.
'I have business to attend to.' Business? At this hour?
'Goodbye.' I smiled and gave an elegant bow.
I watched the retreating figure across the ballroom dancefloor.
'Well you seem to have found yourself a match,' I turned, it was Mercer, slightly drunk and arm in arm with a pretty brunette. She giggled and opened her fan. 'She's pretty,' I laughed as I watch Mercer walk to the door, swaying slightly as he did so.
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My father leaned across to me from his seat in the carriage.
'I see you've finally found a girl.'
'Yes. I have.' I had to have her. I wanted her. In my mind, Giselle laughed and swished her satin skirts.
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