Thanks for all the great reviews/faves/follows/views! It really makes my day to see all of this stuff, especially since this is my first fic.
Just want to apologize in advance for anything thats wrong in this- I tried to get it out quick! I will try my absolute hardest to get another chapter out after Christmas.
Enjoy! And happy holidays!
Eleanor awoke to the harsh sunlight dreaming through the cracks in her drapes. She slowly blinked, eyelids heavy with old mascara and swollen from crying. She could tell that she was a mess; her hair stood up wildly, her dress was wrinkled, and her makeup was uncomfortable.
She rolled over, stretching out in the expanse of her bed, and took a shaky breath. His scent was still in her sheets, and she inhaled the smell of his cologne, something that was so Jasper. She ran her hands through her oily hair and curbed her wobbly breathing. Eleanor languidly rose out of bed, trudging over to her fake armoire, into the walk-in closet, and finally to her bathroom. She turned on the faucet and drew herself a piping hot bath. The water poured out of the faucet, splashing in the bottom of the luxurious, claw-foot tub. She didn't ask for any of the staff, didn't need their help nor want their help. Right now, she needed to be alone with her thoughts. Eleanor peeled off her boots and discarded her dress and undergarments.
Eleanor dipped one toe in the hot water, shivering slightly from the stark contrast between the cold tile and scorching water. Slowly, she lowered herself into the water, the sweltering water pricking her skin to the point that it turned red and hurt. The entire sensation was nearly too much, but the pain anchored her. She could try to numb her problems all she wanted, but there was always that dull, aching pain in the back of her mind, reminding her of all of her wrongdoings. Her arms tightly hugged her chest and Eleanor sat like that for quite a while, contemplating everything. She thought about Robert, she thought about her dad (whoever the hell that was), she thought about Ted Pryce and Ophelia, and most of all, she thought about him.
Once the water turned lukewarm, Eleanor knew her period of self-pity and mourning was over. It was always like this, her titles and responsibilities coming before anything else. She was a goddamn Princess, and princesses didn't wallow in their problems. Princesses didn't even think about their problems, for they don't have problems. Eleanor had realized at an early age that this was the way that it would always be.
Dressed in a pair of leggings, Uggs, and a loose black jumper, without a stitch of makeup, Eleanor went the the informal dining room where she knew her mother and brother would be eating. The guard quietly stationed outside her door, whose face looked somewhat familiar, stepped in line a few paces behind her. She was grateful for his respect for her privacy. As she walked through the doorway to the dining room, her face remained impassive as she glanced at him. He was dressed in a fresh suit, clean shaven, with no evidence of his emotional indiscretion from the past night.
"Good morning, Eleanor," Helena chirped. Her face and hair were already done up for the day, and she was already wearing a pair of heels. Liam sat to the left of her, his face tired and likely mirroring her own. His eyes flicked up to meet hers, and he gave her a small, reassuring smile. There was a seat for her across from him and the large oak chair was pulled out by the staff. Eleanor slid into the plush seat and was dutifully poured a cup of earl grey. She was served fresh fruit and toast, the usual breakfast mandated by her mother.
They ate in a comfortable silence, until her mother pulled out her iPad and began addressing the twins.
"After the events yesterday, police secured Ted Pryce and took him to the hospital. He is currently stable, and I have arranged for Ophelia to visit him before he is put on trial and brought to justice. You must receive her from the jet and inform her of the circumstances for which she was abruptly brought here. Liam, you must visit…"
Out of habit, Eleanor began to tune out her mother— Rachel would inform her of her schedule. She felt his eyes on her, boring holes into the side of her head. But she couldn't turn or look over, she couldn't acknowledge his presence, at least right now.
Soon enough, they finished their breakfast. Helena quickly left to attend to whatever business she had with Rachel in tow.
"Lenny, how are you doing?" Liam asked. It was a tough question— Liam had always said that she was the strongest of them all, but she also took it the hardest, and always felt that she was the weakest.
She sighed, and answered, "I'm fine, Liam. As long as you're okay."
"If you say so," he replied, looking at her skeptically. "I'll see you later, okay?" She nodded, and with that he left the dining room. Jasper fell into place behind him, but not without looking back. He locked eyes with Eleanor, and while his face remained a mask, she could see the desperation waning in his striking blue eyes. She held his gaze, her green eyes pleading and (answered) his unvocalized question.
"Not yet," she tried. "I can't right now."
By 1:00, she and Liam were in the palace limo, headed to Heathrow. Of course, he was there too. She pretended to be absorbed in her phone during the entire twenty minute ride, but she knew that she was just bluffing. Still, she scrolled through her Twitter feed once more, reading every last banal tweet from each insignificant person she followed.
After the absolute longest twenty minutes of her life, they finally arrived at the jet. The driver opened the doors for her and she stepped out, surveying the runway. The doors to the jet opened, and Ophelia stood there, seemingly helpless until she saw Eleanor, who then gave her the warmest smile she could muster up, given the circumstances. Ophelia then cautiously walked out of the plane, with boyfriend Nick protectively wrapping his arm around her. He knew of the tension between Ophelia and Liam, but not of the gravity of the tension between the entire royal family and the Pryce's.
Eleanor outstretched her arms towards Ophelia, welcoming her back. After a few seconds Ophelia pulled back, confused. "Len, it's good to see you and all, but why am I here? And why could no one tell me? Is everything all right?" Ophelia stammered. Eleanor gave her friend a tentative smile, and (said), "I'll tell you in the car, okay?", and she nodded towards the staff, who began loading Ophelia and Nick's desperately packed luggage into the limousine. Liam greeted Ophelia as well, but Eleanor could tell that he was reserved, especially with Nick there.
Once situated inside of the car, they fell into an uncomfortable silence, each not knowing where to start. Eleanor began, "I don't know if you know what happened yesterday, but your father killed mine."
