Chapter Four
Mineral Town Boarder - Bielefelt Manor
The Stables
Fall 21
9:48AM
Ah. It was refreshing to be once again, with Claire. I found myself in Waffle Town until a few days ago; one of Lords there who was a friend of my father was caught up in a spat, apparently. I, Chase Blackwell, with all modesty, led our troops to battle there. Why? Because my father wills it. I always thought that fighting was distasteful. I mean really. It was barbaric, tiring, and so… unneeded. Why fight when you can curl up and read a book, and or spend time with an amazing woman like Claire? Just so you know, I never really liked the idea of training with a sword—but the men of this century were expected to at least know how to wield one.
I followed dear Claire to the stables; she was getting her horse for the ride I proposed a while ago. It's a goddess-be-damned miracle she even agreed to it. She usually said, "no," or "I'm too tired." That's probably one of the many reasons I like her. She had her own mind and will—she didn't just agree to what anyone said or anyone did—unlike most of the other women I knew. I've thought of proposing to Claire for the longest time now—but someone like her who loved the thrill of sword fighting and battling—and I who expressed a clear dislike for it, I'm not so sure she'd say yes; because I bet she knew I'd do anything to keep her away from a weapon and a battlefield.
Claire walked over to the third stall, where her horse, Luna was at. Luna was a warhorse. She was huge and had unblemished white skin, and this crescent-shaped mark on her forehead—which was the real reason for Claire naming her Luna. My horse, Shadow, was in the fifth stall. Apparently, the bloody squire put him there when I specifically instructed Shadow to be placed in the fourth stall. Why? For obvious reasons. Brushing elbows with Claire… a possibly romantic encounter… wait. Why am I the one daydreaming?
"Chase?" She asked me, a puzzled look on her face. Apparently, it was obvious I was in a daze.
"Yes?" I answered her, pretending to be stroking Shadow's nose.
"Have you…" she asked, she was a little red on the cheeks—but I'm a dense man. I haven't the slightest idea what to think.
"Have I what?" I asked her, chuckling a little in a desperate attempt to make her feel comfortable.
"…met the Duke's son?" she asked, and now I've officially lost all hope with this woman. OK, maybe not. Gray Von Voltaire wasn't anything special—except for the fact that he was the Duke's son and that… well, even though it pains me to admit, he was pretty good at painting and writing. I've never seen him holding a sword though—so I presume he's not so good with one. I hope. Gray Michael Vincent Von Voltaire was also my best friend. See? I call him my friend and yet I've never seen him with a sword. What kind of friend am I? The answer to that question is, a good one. Gray is the son of the Duke. He shouldn't even be seen on a battlefield. As the son of a Lord, it's my job to stop invaders before they even reach the Duke's castle. But even then, I'm not always around. I get sent on a lot of trips because the Duke seems to be fond of tormenting me. That or the Duke just proclaims me to be the kind of son he never had. Whatever that meant. I'm pretty much contented with my own father. And I didn't need the Duke.
"Gray?" I tried asking casually, though I knew I couldn't hide the insecurity in my voice.
"Yeah. Him." And for the first time ever, I saw Claire Louise Von Bielefelt blush.
Claire mounted her horse, and following her lead, I did too. We rode until the gates, then the 'bloody squire' came rushing at us. The 'bloody squire' seemed to be excited—nothing bad seemed to be happening. He was… running with all speed humanly possible… for what? Well I wouldn't know. I'm no mind reader, thanks. Though I wish I was, sometimes. Maybe that way I'd know if I had any sort of chance with Claire.
"Lord Chase! Lady Claire!" he screamed like no tomorrow. Great, why now of all times? Now when I finally score a horseback riding date with dear, sweet Claire? The goddess must truly hate me. What have I done wrong to the Harvest God-be-damned Harvest Goddess?! I don't think I've done anything to make her hate me this much. Maybe it's not the Goddess. Maybe it's just my life. Life is a distasteful, moronic bitch who loves bitching us in the worst ways possible.
"Cliff!" Claire said, not dismounting her horse, but driving Luna in such a way that she was facing Cliff, the 'bloody squire', now.
"Milady! You have a visitor!" Cliff exclaimed, as if he just saw the Harvest God at the doors and all that bloody crap.
"Who is it?" Claire asked, looking a bit bored. I could tell she wanted to start riding, which would've been a good thing.
"Lord Gray, milady." Cliff said. "The son of the Duke."
Remember what I told you about life being a distasteful bitch? Well apparently, I'm once again, right.
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I am so sorry if this is half-assed. I just seem a little uninspired because I saw something on Facebook that really got me down today. I took to writing, so maybe what I wrote up there will give you an idea on what happened to me. God, I just feel so bad right now. I'm sorry for the emo rant too. ;__;
- LPK / Reese