Chapter 2! So after this, the writing will be much better and less confusing. I'll use names, instead of he/she. Also, things may get confusing in this chapter, but it'll all clear eventually. Enjoy. c:
She eyed the men wearily as they carried her bags. In her hands, she twiddled with her black, lace gloves. Forever untrusting, she was told. She had every right to be forever untrusting, she assumed however. Who in her position wouldn't be?
Sighing, she waved the men off when they were done and took off her wide brimmed hat. After she locked the door, she moved to the large arm chair to lounge in the most vulgar way possible; comfortably. She kicked off her shoes ,with minor difficulty, and swung her legs up over the arm. Her skirts cascaded down to the plush, carpeted floors.
Her head lolled back as she basket in the comfort of it all. Her feet ached from the pointed shoes and the stiff material that they were made of. In all honesty, she now officially hated English fashion. What she wanted to wear was her usual robes.
She had to be satisfied, however, that the had been able to personalize the dress. In her complaints, she gained a smaller bustle and silk cloth. Over her black skirt, she was allowed a navy blue drape that hung from her neck and tan down the front and the back, slitting on either side so that the black fabric curved out from it. Over this, she had to hassle for weeks to wear her trademark cloak. A gold-rimmed ruby brooch clipped it in place over her shoulder, and a hood hung down her back.
The main purpose of this trip was to meet with the ambassador's son, Malchior. She was to discuss trade deals with him, however she could tell her mother's ulterior motives. It was, after all, every day that the woman was reminded of her current single state. Twenty already, and hopelessly alone. Pah.
She could go forever alone, for all she cared. Her life was just fine as it was, without wearing herself out. A knock sounded on her door, and she couldn't help but allow a small groan to escape her pale lips.
.
.:..:..:.
Checking herself quickly, making sure her black hair was pinned up securely, she reached for the knob and opened the door slowly. She peered out the small crack between te edge and the frame. In her line of view was two men, each wearing small brooches to signify that they served her.
"Yes?"
"We have come to inform you that the liner will be making a quick stop, as per Captain's order."
"Stop?" she said with a mild bewilderness. "Well, how long will it delay us?"
The two exchanged a quick glance. "We're not sure. It could take any range of time."
She let out a frustrated growl. "Why are we stopping to begin with?"
"Apparently they found a shipwrecked man."
.:..:..:.
Her shoes on again, the woman walked at the fastest allowed pace. Her face was set with a scowl, and she was determined to have a talk with the captain. This would be absolutely no good with her plans.
She pounded her fist on the door.
"You're Highness?" he asked as he opened the door slowly, taking a small bow.
"We're stopping?"
"We are. If you would like, you can come meet the man we're rescuing."
Grumbling, her scowl grew into a face of pure displeasure. "I will."
.:..:..:.
The lifeboat was lowered, holding the captain and three of his men. Along with the woman. She sat with crossed legs, gaze set coldly out into sea. Malchior wouldn't wait forever. She looked over to the island to see a figure, his feet just in the water.
When the boat reached the little lot of land, she was the first out. She looked at the man with intense criticism. He endured it, as if he had people looking at him like this every day. She scowled again, she couldn't read him.
Well then, let's give him a little test. She thrust her hand out, palm down and fingers angled towards his shoes. He smiled and bent down, just barely grazing his lips on the skin of her hand. Her quizzical expression only amused him further as he stood straight, smile growing,.
It infuriated her.
"What is your name?"
"Mark, Logan Mark." He answered immediately. She narrowed he eyes, and he added, "Ma'am."
She let a small smile slip. Ma'am? "I, Mr. Mark, am 'Your Highness', to you."
He quirked a brow and bowed, "Your Highness. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
What still startled her was how smooth and young his voice was. With his scraggly beard and overgrown hair, she figured that he would be... well older. She tilted her head just the slightest. "How old are you?"
He looked a little surprised by her blunt question, but he answered swiftly, "I am nineteen, almost twenty."
She allowed only a small amount of her shock to show before she straightened her face. The women decided that this man was mysterious, enchanting. She was intrigued. With a grunt, she turned to the captain. "Were shall he stay?"
"In the crew's quarters."
She raised a brow, "That hardly works. Is there no more vacancy in the guest rooms?"
"I'm afraid that given the fact he has paid for no admittance, he can't have our last room."
"Are you saying that this man was stuck on the island for such a distinct amount of time-"
"Eight months," the man cut in.
"For eight months, and he can't even have a bed to sleep on?" She crossed her arms defiantly. "Is this the compassion you wish to portray? A lack there of?"
The captain was left stumbling over his words. "Well, Ma'am-Er, Your Highness, we have a-a budget, and-"
"Nobody is currently occupying the room now, correct? So you have made no money off of it anyways. I'll pay half the price, if you are so indignant. This man, will. Have. A. Room," she huffed. "Now, let us return back to the ship. Time is wasting."
As she turned, she took note of the crooked grin the man wore. What only made her more proud were the whispered words she heard as she strutted back to the boat, "Damn, what country does she rule?"
.:..:..:.
Back in her room, shoes kicked off once again, she considered her decisions of the day. She was still rather ruffled about her voyage being delayed, but this man would be enough entertainment.
She vouched for him simply for the intrigue he had drawn from her. That and his emerald eyes captivated her, and looking into those forest pools could make her more lost than being in the desert with a blindfold.
It was infuriating.
She remembered the lopsided smile he had given after her bargain on his room, and she felt a wave of heat force its way upon her cheeks.
Next update: Wednesday
