Chapter Two
Emma had always enjoyed leisurely carriage rides. She loved watching the verdant forest, rolling hills, and crystalline brooks from the comfort of her cushioned seat. As a child, she'd even begged her father to prolong their journeys by taking the circuitous path along the sandy cliffs – thrilled by the view of distant ships moored in the shallows of the tiny seaside village – before returning to their estate. But today the steady rocking of the cabin and the rhythmic groaning of the wheels grated on her nerves. Twice her father asked her if she wished to get out and push the carriage, given her impatience.
As the Cassidy's manor home came into view, the carriage seemed to move even more slowly. Or, perhaps the sudden racing of Emma's pulse made everything else seem sluggish by comparison. Dozens of carriages lined the drive, waiting their turn to deliver one important guest or another to the front entrance where the young lord would welcome them. "Must we wait?" She declared.
Prince Charming smirked, his eyes twinkling with merriment. "I thought it was fashionable to arrive late?"
"Improves the anticipation," Snow White added.
Emma sighed and settled back against her seat. Across from her, Snow White and Charming shared a look before chuckling. Charming rapped his knuckles twice on the carriage wall before calling to the driver, "Pull to the front, please." He smiled at Emma. "My princess has a party to attend."
The moment the carriage stopped, Emma moved to step out, scarcely noticing the hand lent to her by one of the footmen. Her eyes were already affixed to the young man waiting to greet them. She studied every detail, noting the silver waist coat perfectly tailored to his form and the carefully groomed waves of his brown hair. But as always, it was his smile that drew her in; the way he looked at her as if her presence lit up his entire existence.
Neal took several steps forward to meet Emma, his warm hands already capturing her palm in a gentle squeeze. "Emma, it's so good to see you. I'm so glad you were able to come."
Emma licked her lips, peering at him through half-lidded eyes. "Are you?" She exhaled. "I mean, yes, of course. I wouldn't have missed it for the world."
"Lord Cassidy, thank you for inviting us," Prince Charming spoke as he joined his daughter. Snow White flanked Emma's other side, nodding once in agreement.
"You honor us with your presence, your majesties," Neal replied with a slight bow. "You remember my sister, of course. Ariel?" He looked behind him and gestured to a young woman clad in a somber mauve gown. Her rich, auburn hair would be enviable were it not twisted into a tight knot at the nape of her neck. Combined with the sour expression she directed toward Emma, Ariel Cassidy was almost the antithesis of her brother.
"Why Ariel Cassidy, if I didn't know better I'd say you weren't happy to see us," Emma remarked, her voice laden with practiced charm and just a sting of venom.
Rising from her curtsy, Ariel smiled tightly at Emma. "Princess Emma, what a lovely gown you're wearing." She looked pointedly at Emma's exposed décolletage.
"Yes, well, it is a bit warm today, don't you agree?" Dismissing Ariel, Emma smiled at Neal, her green eyes shining with adoration. "I do hope we'll have a chance to speak later."
"I'd like that. There's something I'd very much like to speak with you about," Neal shared.
Emma's grin blossomed along with her spirit. Any lingering annoyance at Ariel's insipid reception was completely blanketed by an almost painful hope. "Until later, then," she commented, allowing her parents to lead her further onto the grounds.
Despite the parade of attendees still waiting their turn in their gilded carriages, the reception at Cassidy Manor was already teeming with the Enchanted Forest's aristocracy. Men and women garbed in their finest ensembles tittered and gossiped in one conversation or another, though all paused to incline their head as the royal family wandered by. Emma reveled in the attention, noting many a gentleman staring almost slack-jawed as she passed. She greeted each in turn, and giggled to herself as she took in their companions' jealous glares. Of course it was all in jest; she had no real designs on any of them. But to be wanted was a heady feeling. And it was hardly her fault if she drew their attention when the other ladies did not.
"Emma!" Turning toward the sudden exclamation, Emma had just enough time to recognize her friend before Belle wrapped her in a tight embrace. "Oh, I've missed you. And I've so much to tell you!" She entwined her arm with Emma's and waved to Queen Snow White and Prince Charming before leading their daughter away. Her large, vibrant eyes were positively giddy with whatever secrets she was bursting to share.
"And no doubt I'll be green with envy when you're done," Emma chided, though the truth of her words was closer than Belle knew. She paused and looked over her friend, taking in the healthy glow of her skin and the exotic fabric of her gown. "You look radiant, Belle. Clearly this trip was just what you needed."
Belle clutched Emma's hands. "It really was, and…" her mouth scrunched as she worried at her lower lip. "I met someone."
A tiny seed of resentment burned in Emma's stomach. She swallowed thickly to keep it from bubbling to the surface. "Did you? Well that's surprising." Some of the excitement in Belle's eyes waned, though Emma didn't notice. "I didn't realize any of the aristocracy lived in those parts."
"He's not part of the gentry," Belle explained. "He's a merchant. More of an artist, really."
Emma held back a laugh. "An artist? Oh Belle, please tell me you haven't fallen for a vagabond. You know he's likely only after your money."
Belle tilted her chin up, her lips stretched in a forced smile. "He's a tailor. He creates his own fabrics and designs. He made this dress for me," she explained, standing back to showcase her gown to its fullest extent. "He hopes to open his own store once he's saved enough money."
Something in Belle's tone finally reached Emma's conscience. Resolve with a dash of hurt lingered in her features where joy had shined so brightly only moments before. Emma sighed then looked over Belle's gown with fresh eyes. The design was unique, and the embroidery rivaled some of her mother's finest garments. "He's very talented," Emma offered. "It's a shame you have to wait to be together."
Belle was quiet for a long moment before she nodded briskly. "Hopefully not too long," she replied, her voice quieter than it had been, but full of warmth once more. "And you?" Belle inquired. "Any advancements with your own romantic pursuits?"
Emma blushed, her eyes sweeping over the nearby guests discreetly. "Neal asked to speak with me later. He said he had something important to discuss with me."
Belle grinned. "Oh Emma, that's wonderful!"
"Shhh," Emma cautioned, inexplicably uncomfortable with Belle's reaction. Her eyes swept the crowd dispersed across the vast lawn, checking that their conversation had not been overheard. A group of gentleman stood nearby, engaged in some heated debate. Emma could just make out enough of their words to grasp they were speaking of the recent ogre attacks on the edges of the Enchanted Forest. She rolled her eyes; it seemed all the young men were besotted with the idea of war. Even here, amidst glamorous revelry, they insisted upon reviving the dull conversation. Except for her Neal. He surely would give no further attention to such nonsense.
As if sensing her eyes on him, one of the men suddenly met her gaze. Emma gasped as a strange sensation raced through her veins. His eyes were an incredible shade of blue – akin to the deep waters she once appreciated on a sailing voyage with her father. And like those waters, she found herself drawn to search the depths of him. His hair was nearly black, as were his thick brows and his trim beard, though oddly, his whiskers were tinted with shades of chestnut, too. A thin scar decorated his cheek and added to his overall mystique. She wondered how he'd come to gain that scar, and what it would feel like if she were to run her fingertips over it.
The man lifted one of his brows in question before winking at her. Heat flushed her cheeks and Emma spun away, overcome with sudden anger. At least, that's what it felt like: raw, exposed emotion churning within. How dare he look at her in such a manner? Who was this man, exactly?
"Emma? Are you alright?" Belle asked softly.
Emma peeked over her shoulder once more, watching as the man lifted a silver flask to his lips. Of course he would be drinking alcohol already. He practically screamed scoundrel! Catching her eye once more, he grinned at her – a lopsided smirk which hinted at sinful doings. He let his gaze roam freely over Emma's figure before lifting his flask toward her in a silent salute.
Emma growled. "Who is that man?"
"That's Captain Killian Jones," Belle answered, not realizing Emma had been commenting to herself.
"You know him?"
"I know of him," Belle clarified. "They say he's from a noble family, but they won't have anything to do with him because of his involvement in some past disgrace."
Emma glanced back once more. The captain was listening to the conversation, though he lacked the mask of fervor all the other young men seemed to wear when discussing the rumors of war. "He looked at me like he was imagining me without my clothes on," Emma confessed.
"How scandalous," Belle remarked. Standing on her tiptoes, she peered behind Emma to capture one last look at the man in question, releasing a small squeak when Emma pulled her away.
"I'm tired of talking about him. Let's go inside. Neal should be nearly finished greeting the other guests," Emma said, straightening her spine and holding her head high like the princess she was.
The two women chatted amiably as they followed the cobblestone path leading from the lawn into Cassidy Manor. A grand staircase dominated the foyer, crowned by a chandelier the size of a war horse, encrusted with countless crystals. "Look!" Belle exclaimed, pointing toward the top of the stairs. "There's Tinker Bell. I heard the fairies might be here. Oh, let's go say hello."
"Must we?" Emma retorted, a slight whine in her tone. "She'll want to tell us all about Neverland again."
"It's the polite thing to do," Belle said. "Besides, last I heard she was staying with Queen Regina. I'm sure she'll have a lot of interesting news to share about that."
Emma exhaled slowly as she curled her fingers tightly in the fabric of her skirt. Of course Tinker Bell had also spent last season travelling. It seemed everyone had the chance to explore other realms except the actual princess. Meanwhile, Emma was treated to boring tutorials designed to improve her elocution, poise, and political mind. As if Neal Cassidy would be incapable of negotiating treaties without the assistance of his wife and Queen.
"There you are," spoke a familiar voice. "I've been looking for you."
As swiftly as it arose, Emma's ire expelled from her body. Thoughts of the winsome fairy and the darkly handsome man were forgotten as she turned to address Neal. "I've just come in from the gardens," she explained, immediately cursing herself for her response. As she was still standing in the entryway, it was clear that she'd just entered the hall.
Neal smiled nonetheless. That same worshipful quality in his expression eased Emma's spirit. He sought her out. He wanted to speak with her, specifically. And most importantly, she still caused him to brighten even when he was already immersed in pleasantries. "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting. You know all about these formalities, I'm sure."
Emma nodded enthusiastically. "Of course. And it's fine. I was able to visit with Belle."
Neal suddenly looked at Belle as if just noticing her presence. "Ah yes; Lady French. I don't believe I had the chance to greet you personally upon your arrival."
Belle laughed. "Your sister was most inviting. But my father and I thank you for your hospitality."
Emma smiled warmly at the pair of them, pleased at Neal's gentle manners and his ability to instantly put those around him at ease. Not like some other men with their flirtatious smiles and dangerous eyes. No, she wouldn't give him any more thought. She would enjoy every moment of this gathering and tonight she'd be dancing in Neal's arms.
"There she is," Neal spoke softly, his gaze directed beyond both Emma and Belle. Turning, Emma's eyes widened as Tinker Belle approached them. The young woman had admittedly changed for the better in the year since Emma had seen her. Long ringlets of gold cascaded over her shoulders, nearly rivaling Emma's own shining locks. Her cherubic face had lost some of its roundness, leaving a delicate nose and a pert mouth in its wake.
Tinker Bell stopped next to Neal and a stab of confusion assailed Emma's heart when he casually wrapped his arm around her waist. "Princess Emma, it's such a pleasure to see you again," she said.
Emma wished her words were laced with insincerity. She wanted those violet eyes to show a touch of malice or envy, if only to match the emotions rioting in her own soul. She would not be jealous of a fairy. Surely Neal was just being overly friendly, as he was known for. "Likewise," she managed to choke out. "I trust your journey was agreeable? It's such a far distance from Neverland. It really is quite generous of your father to travel so far just for a ball."
Neal and Tinker Bell smiled in unison, looking briefly at each other. "Tink's not just here for the ball, Emma." He paused, searching her expression. Did he see the confusion in her eyes? Did he know how perilously he held her heart in the grips of his words? "She's my fiancée."
No. Emma's mind went blank. The only word she could process was the seemingly innocuous one-syllable word. No. He didn't know…he couldn't know. "That's wonderful," she heard herself say – the years of ingrained courtly manners responding automatically. Distantly, she realized Tinker Bell was still speaking, but her thoughts could only focus on that tiny word. "Excuse me," she blurted out. "I think my mother needs me. Congratulations."
Relying on that same innate strength – the one she flaunted whenever she encountered unpleasantness, she forced her feet to step away.
A/N: Boom!
I don't normally post so quickly; however, it was important (at least to me) to get a glimpse of Killian as soon as possible. I hope you are enjoying this little retelling...it would mean a lot to me if you'd drop me a line, just a little encouragement. While it is 'fun' to write, it's much more fun when you know you are writing for an audience. So, if you're out there, don't be afraid to say hello. :)