Life gives you gifts, you never expected it to.
And out of all mayhems, life has a very mysterious lead to follow. It always has something good in store for you.
Lord...
Can't breathe...Nnng , I can't breathe..
Inside my head, a voice cried out...
A little longer Emily, and you shall be a dead girl.
With that, I tried to push myself off the table for the fifth time , but to no avail. Tracy's tough hand on the back of my head kept me still with a strength, I never knew existed in her. The pot inches below continued to send up hot vapours on my face like prayer and the front of my dress was drenched wet from the perspiration that dripped from my face like some godly blessings.
Another push from me, another refusal to ease up by Tracy's hands.
And I pushed again, though this time my sister was a little generous to my effort , and I, up straight, stumbled back over my own force.
I felt for a nearby chair to sit on while my lungs hyperventilated in the cooler atmosphere. As the suffocation subsided and my heaving chest slowed down, I found my voice back to question Tracy over this desolate act of her's.
"What...what in the heaven's name were you trying to do? " my voice was dry as sand.
" Steam bathe your face is what I was trying to do. And by the way, this is the third time I am telling you that." Tracy said non-chalantly.
" Yes...yess because I don't understand . What even did you achieve, by steam 'roasting' my face in that boiling vapour ?"
" You have no idea of what miracles these steam can do to your face...natural beautification, in another way. " she pointed out.
"Nonsense. And are you sure, this beautification proficiency of your's does not include 'peeling off the epidermis' artistry ?"
" Oh shut up Emily! You shall be thanking me by the evening though. Now, take this napkin and wipe up your face. And better change into some other dry dress, this one is soaked wet... "
You don't say.
"...afterall , Aunt Martha won't be pleased to see you coughing and sneezing at the ball tonight."
I was not even listening to her untill the word ball collided hard with my tympanum.
" Ball ?"
"Yes."
"What ball ?"
"Lady Eleanor's ball, Emily. You are unbelievable."
She tossed me another cotton napkin, which I nearly missed for I was too paralysed by this certain ball news. Such events made me sick and my knees weak.
I finished wiping my face as it occured to me and I speared my eyes onto my sister.
"So, now that was the reason, you suddenly were steam bathing my face ?"
"Umm...yes. Atleast partially." Tracy answered thoughtfully as she emptied the pot into the basin.While the water sloshed into the drain, a big vapour cloud erupted, condensing over everything that came it's way.
"Whatever does that mean ?"
She opened her mouth to answer but our conversation, or rather argument, was rudely interrupted by a booming noise. The door of our kitchen was pushed open as two of my little cousins huddled in the small kitchen. Sophia and Caroline. Two lady hounds. Gentle in a very ungentle way. And unlike their faces, not sweet at all.
"Hello there, Tracy" Sophie greeted in a manly fashion and turned to wish me which was when she noted the scowl on my face and condition of it.
"Emily...you know...you look like a tomato." she said "and a rotten one on that" she tagged with an afterthought.
Thanks Sophie. I would never have guessed that !
"Did that old man from the corner of the street propose you a mairrage ?" Tracy interrogated with a tone as serious as her question was disgusting.
I was sure that if minutes earlier I looked like a rotten tomato, now I was looking like a 'flushed-redder-nearly crying' rotten tomato.
Well , if such tomatoes even existed, I mean.
But before I could throw something , Tracy came for a rescue.
"Heaven, Girls ! Mind what you say. You are being rude to Emily. "
Oh really Tracy! Now, I wonder who was trying to shove my face in that boiling pot just a while ago.
Unaffected in anyway, Carol grinned, Sophie giggled and Tracy glared at the two grinning and giggling girls.
I, on other hand, was too miserable now to grin or giggle or glare or even to feel insulted.
My face reacting to the cooler air felt hot and cold at the same time.
Such ambivalence.
With a sigh , I excused myself to my room. My little book-like-smell filled room. Though for now, just my room.
I changed my dress while my face adjusted it's temperature. In the mirror, my cheeks and forehead, I could see,matched to Soph's description. 'Rotten tomato'.
After multiple heartbeats, many cheek touchings and forehead carresings and almost a dozen of 'Ouches' , I settled down onto my bed.
Downstairs, I could hear Sophie and Carol were discussing the ball with an enthusiasm, I surrealy lacked. They were too young for such events but still wanted to be prepared for their own time.
Now and then, they would ask Tracy questions which she answered as per her own experiences. Tracy accompanied me to every ball where Alex, her fiancé, would show up. Both equally lovesick.
In my midthought, I rolled my head to the other side of the bed and...
Bammmm...
My forehead bumped hard into the bed post. Very hard.
"Hey! Woody thing..Can't you just shift a little. Don't you see I am thinking." I accused the bed post but apparently, it was not in a mood for argument and chose to ignore me.
So, I ignored it too.
In my mind, I had other, more serious matters to attend. Like this ball thing , and the damned idea that it beheld.
Mairrage, Suitors, Petitioning...
Viz :
Slavery, Curse, Hellship...
I realised, I was not ready for it. To bind myself with someone, anyone, at this time of my life would be a cruel assassination of my own little dream. And not just my dream, my mother's too.
Liberty.
No! This won't happen. Not till, I get what I want. Not till, I have the gut to get what I want.
My forehead had formed a little lump out of the collision, which gave me a dull thudding pain and I drifted off into a deep slumber.
I woke up with smell of fresh clothes, my clothes.
When the blur of my eyes receded, I saw Aunt Martha was laying out my dresses on the bed and the news of ball tonight travelled back to my forethoughts. It was already mid afternoon.
With a yawn, I rolled on my back to see Aunt Martha looking at me with a hint of smile on her face.
"You know, you yawn like a lizard." She said.
Here goes nothing.
"Do lizards yawn ?" I asked genuinely.
Cause, I haven't seen one yawning. Never really.
She considered my question for a moment and then answered,
" well I suppose they do not...no...they don't ", then mostly nodding to herself, she continued,"but if they were to yawn, they would yawned like you."
So mature, Aunt Martha !
But here, something got my eyes. The dress lying by me was a simple blue dress that I had and loved. I always wanted to wear it at balls for it was simple but my aunt won't allow me.
She was letting me wear it today.
Wasn't it a good thing ?
No. No, it was not. My aunt never allowed me to do unimportant things. NEVER!
"Aunt martha ?"
"Yes, Emily ?"
"What is it ?"
"Your dress."
"Oh can see that . What I mean is, why are you letting me wear it at the ball?" I asked again. This secrecy was infuriating me.
"Because you always wanted to." She said with a smile.
"But why tonight? why suddenly tonight?" I pointed out.
She didn't reply to that. She was still smiling. Earlier in the morning, when I had asked Tracy , if she had steamed my face for ball attendance, she had said
' partially yess ' .
Perhaps, Something else was there that I didn't know. And something big.
"Tell me." I insisted my aunt once more.
Silence.
I started again," Okay, let me sort out the probabilities. The ball is not important anymore ? "
"True. The ball's no more important." she said.
"And that's because ?" I was almost begging now. Almost.
She looked up and then after an ocean of pause, She spoke, exultantly.
"You, my dear, have been invited as one of the debutantes, for consorting 'His Highness Prince Erik'."
Damnations !!!
So now. What do you think, this story would be like?
And before you meet the 'Prince', one more important character is to be acquainted.