26 . 3 . 10

Wow, that was a long pause. I'm going to endeavor not to do that again.

Disclaimer: Much of the text in the first part of the chapter is from the original Nasap. Just a heads-up.

Nre opened her eyes, yawned, and stretched. Whatever mildly pleasant dream she'd been having skittered away in the light of the early morning. Something nagged at the back of her mind. Lois said she'd be here at eight fifteen to help me get ready for... She suddenly realized what day it was and shut her eyes tightly again. Too late. She was already awake.

With a groan, she rolled over, misjudging how close she was to the edge of the bed, and falling off with a yelp of surprise and a painful thump. Disentangling herself from the sheets, she heard a muffled giggle from the doorway. She whirled around to face the offender and saw her maid, Hanalee standing there.

Nre growled and shoved the blankets haphazardly onto the bed before stomping over to the basin of water and scrubbing her face. In the process, she dropped the bar of soap on the floor and managed to get it in her eyes: both of them.

As she flushed her eyes out with water and scrubbed her face dry, she thought irritably to herself, I have a feeling that today is not going to be a very good day. She then sat down in her chair and allowed Hanalee to brush her snarled hair.

Her hair was one of the things about her which vexed Lois most. The color was certainly not pretty, being a very dull mouse brown, and the texture was soft –almost slippery– which made it nigh impossible to put up without gluing it. Lois usually put a coloring liquid on Nre's hair whenever there was an event to attend, so no doubt she would have to endure the smelly process once more. The thought did not improve her mood.

Once her waist-length hair was brushed smooth, Hanalee left and Nre studied her reflection in the mirror and predicted what Lois would say when she arrived. "Ah," she'll say, "You look remarkably–" Nre took a good look at herself "–purple this morning. Let me get that new dress your father imported from–" Her thoughts were interrupted as the real Lois came bustling into the room. Casting a critical eye on the princess, as she always did, she remarked,

"You look decidedly purple this morning, Nre."

Nre grinned victoriously.

"Yes; I was just thinking the very thing myself."

With a disbelieving snort, Lois opened her wardrobe and began rummaging around for the right dress.

"Where is that dress your father imported from Elidine? You know the one; lavender, shortish sleeves, with that nice long train in the back– ah ha!"

She pulled the dress out and laid it atop the heap of sheets on Nre's bed.

"Now that that is decided, we must color your hair."

Nre groaned and all semblance of her fleeting good humor vanished.

"Why, Lois? It's not as if Lord Tiroe will care what color my hair is!"

"What if he does?" Lois said, motioning to Hanalee, who was carrying a basin of water and a bowl of brownish-red goop balanced expertly, into the room.

"He can deal with it," Nre said grumpily.

"Absolutely not, young lady. Now, stop whining and act your age."

Nre sighed loudly as Lois worked the slimy brown stuff through her hair. Because her hair was so long, it took nearly half of an hour just to get it all in. Then, she had to sit there with all that cold mush in her hair and listen to Lois talk to herself about the benefits of different colors for cheeks and eyes for another half hour before she finally decided what color should go where on her face and put it there.

"Wait, no, the pink definitely should not go on your eyelids," Lois muttered, stopping her hand an inch away from Nre's eye.

"Lois! I don't care! Put it on!" Nre snapped. "I'm starving, and my head is cold!"

"Nre, stop complaining. I care what you look like, and so should you!"

Nre sighed again and Lois finished applying her make up soon after. She then washed the coloring out of Nre's hair and brushed it out again, remarking how much the color had improved; it was now a tolerable dark auburn that complemented her bright blue eyes. Lois helped Nre into her dress and then spent nearly an hour deciding what to do with her hair.

Everything she tried seemed to fall out, and finally, in her exasperation, Lois piled it precariously on top of her head, covered it with a net, and slapped a white, broad brimmed hat on top of it.

"What was the point of coloring my hair if it's going to stay under a hat?" Nre grumbled.

"I didn't know it was going to be under a hat when I colored it, Nre! Would you stop griping! I swear, child..."

What she swore, however, was never found out, because she came upon a matching lavender ribbon and proceeded to tie it around the hat in a big floppy bow.

"Perfect! Now, shoes..."

She found a pair of strappy, high heeled sandals quickly and handed them to Nre, who protested.

"Lois, I–"

"Nre, put on those shoes. Now."

Nre huffily did as she was told and then ran out of the room as fast as she could manage in the high heels and with a train. The train she wrapped around her arm, baring the back of her legs almost to her knees. The servants she passed looked away quickly and pretended that they had not seen anything at all. If they were later questioned by Lois, they feigned innocence. Nre was a favorite in the palace. If not vexed, she was a most sweet and pleasant girl.

She reached the dining hall's door and smoothed herself down. A passing maid gently tucked a limp strand of hair back under the hat with a small, gleaming pin. Nre had just enough willpower to shot her a grateful smile before she entered the room, still annoyed at the morning's events, but feeling much better at the prospect of food.

"Good morning," she managed in a halfway decent tone, addressing the table at large before sliding into her seat under the reproving eye of her mother.

"Don't slide, Nre," she said.

"Yes, mother. Please pass the french toast."

Gloria sighed and pushed the platter closer to Nre. Nre picked up her fork and reached out to spear one when the lid was snapped back onto the platter. Nre looked up in surprise and saw her father holding the lid.

"Brunch is in two hours, Nre; I cannot have you spoiling your appetite."

He motioned for the servants to clear the table.

"What! I've been up for hours and I've only just finished getting ready, father!" she protested.

"Next time think of the that the night before and ask for breakfast in your room."

She was about to point out that she had had no time to eat, even if she had asked for breakfast in her room, but stopped when she saw the look in his eyes.

"Yes, father," she said. "If you will excuse me then, Alphonse, Marlita, Mother, Father," She stood up.

Curtsying minutely to each family member, she strode out of the room, her heels clicking angrily upon her exit. Marlita – Alphonse's wife – sighed quietly and put down her fork. Gloria glanced at her husband and opened her mouth to speak when Alphonse put a warning hand on her arm, shaking his head almost imperceptibly. Gloria nodded and looked away. Oblivious to all the silent objections, Thomas kept eating.

Gloria wondered about the days when she knew her husband better than her son did.

Nre was kept busy the two hours before the expected arrival of Duke Tiroe and Lord Carvin. She had a last minute etiquette lesson with Lady Talin, got repeated instructions from everyone in the castle – excepting Alphonse and Marlita – on the proper way to respond to a request for courtship, was asked her opinion on the morning's schedule, and was fussed over by Lois at least seven times.

Given that she was quite on the verge of wishing Lord Tiroe would drop dead, she had little tolerance for all the hustle and bustle.

She suffered her way through the lesson, said "Yes, mother, I know!" more times than she cared to remember, and said the schedule was great without even looking at it.

And throughout all of this, her stomach was growling very rudely, which got her chastened (unfairly!) at least three times.

Needless to say, she was smoldering with injustice and frustration when the Tiroe carriage finally rolled up to the castle gates, right on time.

Carvin put his head on the small window of their carriage and watched the unfamiliar scenery pass by. He was incredibly bored. He had been on the road since well before dawn that morning and all day the day before. He was sick of the carriage and couldn't wait to get out and stretch his legs.

"Ah ha! There, Carvin! There it is!" his father exclaimed.

Carvin craned his neck to look out his father's window and saw the magnificent castle. His father was rambling on about something having to do with the structure's history, but Carvin was hardly listening. He was too busy taking in the sight for himself. Seeing the castle was much better than looking at the picture in his school book, that was for sure. Turrets lifted their heads regally into the sun and the grey walls sparkled happily in the light. It was bigger than he had imagined! As they approached the gate, he noticed that it had a spectacular carving of a morning glory on it.

The gate guard took note of the flag they were flying from the carriage (their family's coat-of-arms) and opened the gate with a salute and a "Good day!" yelled from the ramparts.

Carvin's excitement turned to dread when he remembered what he was there for. He rehearsed the courtship speech over again in his head, despite the fact that he had memorized several days ago and was drilled on it every morning hence.

His anxiety peaked when they entered the courtyard and saw the entire royal family – along with an assortment of servants – waiting for them. The carriage came to a smooth stop in front of the group, and Carvin waited for Markus to open his door.

The Duke's door was opened first, and he stepped out, beaming and embracing the king, who looked only a little taken aback – as if he should have known to expect it, but had forgotten. Carvin resisted the urge to wince at his father's lack of propriety. He hoped he really was as good of friends as he claimed to be with the royal family. Since Carvin had never actually seen them before, he rather doubted it. His father had a very wide definition of "friend".

Carvin was shaken from his thoughts when Duke Tiroe swept into a low bow and kissed Gloria's hand.

"I can't tell you how wonderful it is to see your face, Gloria, after all these years. You look younger than ever, as always."

Nre was surprised, as well, by the greeting; it made her forget temporarily how angry she was. She thought her mother might have even blushed! Nre made a mental note to find out any back-story between her mother and Duke Tiroe. Her father, she noticed, didn't seem overly pleased at the Duke's flamboyant greeting of his wife, and the Duke was rather dashing.

Nre discreetly examined the boy in the shadows of the carriage as best she could, beginning to feel a bit nervous. She'd almost forgotten that she was meeting her future husband that day. Curiosity and nervousness overcame anger and frustration.

The boy had modest length light brown hair with a bit of a wave in it and a bronzed complexion, but that was all she could make out until he came into the light.

Duke Tiroe kissed her hand, and she smiled pleasantly while he remarked on his pleasure to meet her again, or something of the sort. She was distracted, because at that moment, Carvin was ushered out. He was of average height, maybe a little taller, with unremarkable brown eyes and a pleasant face. He greeted her father, mother, brother, and sister-in-law, before kneeling to kiss her hand.

"It is an honor to be in your presence, your highness."

"The honor is mine," she replied dutifully, almost surprised by his homespun eloquence. She had been expecting a miniature version of Duke Tiroe. She wasn't sure what to make of him.

He smiled slightly, politely, taking note of her features in the brief glance etiquette allowed before he stood up again. She had an angular face with artfully applied make up and icy blue eyes. At the moment, they mirrored curiosity and surprise, but he had the feeling he didn't want to be under their gaze when she was annoyed.

Before he could open his mouth to say something, the King nodded at a lady servant, who walked up next to them and curtsied before speaking.

"The King wishes that you two walk in the garden to further acquaint yourselves," she said. "They will expect you in an hour."

"Thank you, Caroline," Nre said, then turned to the boy. "The gardens are this way, Lord Tiroe."

This was what she had been practicing her conversational skills for, apparently. As if she didn't know how to hold a decent conversation. Really. She'd been doing this her whole life.

She took his arm when he offered it and stole another glance at him. He was an intriguing person. He didn't look much like his father, though she could see a definite resemblance in his eyes. He was of a sturdy but slim build, as opposed to his father's skinny-gone-to-seed appearance. She supposed he must look like his mother, who had died when Carvin was younger.

"Your gardens are beautiful," Carvin said.

"Thank you," she replied with a smile, glad that he had introduced the mundane topic and not she. "The gardeners love what they do."

"I would love to see what they could do with Greyson," Carvin said, absently. He was looking at the flowers.

Nre thought it a bit odd that he would care, but she supposed men were very attached to their land, which included flowers. She seized the opportunity. If he really did love Greyson, he might be interested in talking about it.

"Tell me about Greyson, Lord Tiroe," she said.

"It's... home," Carvin said, his brows coming together as he thought of a better way to describe his lifelong home. "It's on the southeast border, so it's more hilly than it is here. Not mountains, like in the north, but gentle, sloping hills. The children sled on them in the wintertime, and roll down them in the summer. The house is at the crest of a small hill, and just below it are the stables."

"And a garden?" she asked, sensing that he didn't know where to go next.

"There's a garden behind the house. It's only a small one. Dad doesn't care much for flowers, so it's mostly herbs and vegetables. It smells delicious in the summer."

"What else is there?" she prompted. It may not have been the most interesting subject, but it was better than her talking about something more boring. And besides, he had a nice voice. It was pleasantly pitched.

"There's a town to the north, and woods to the south," he said. "That's about it. It's not very captivating, but it's home."

"I should like to see hills," she said, thinking. "I've seen mountains, snowy and barren, but not hills, other than paintings. Are they pleasant?"

"Oh, very," Carvin said. "Especially on a warm day. They are a good place to sit, and think, and watch the world go by."

"Hm," Nre said, enjoying that thought. "So, when you're not sitting on hills, what do you like to do?"

"Swordplay, archery, horsemanship: all the noble pastimes," Carvin said with a grin. "And that will be much more boring to hear about than my house, I promise."

She laughed, feeling at ease with him. He seemed much more relaxed than the other nobles. It was less effort to keep a conversation going.

"Dare I ask what you do in your free time?" Carvin said with a chuckle.

"The proper response would be, 'Embroidering and learning how to pour tea,'" Nre said.

"And the honest answer...?"

"I like to read," she said unabashedly. "I think it's silly that men should monopolize such an enjoyable hobby when half of them are busy doing other things, anyway."

"I think you have a good point," Carvin said. "Most men don't like to read, you know."

"Do you?"

"Only a little."

"Have you read any Fidoglio?"

"I can't say that I have," he replied after a moment's thought.

"Pity."

"What does he write?" he queried.

"Mostly adventure stories. They're classics, you know," she said.

"Classics? Why is that?"

"Well, why not?"

"Who decides they're classics?"

"Blast me if I know," Nre responded, then winced at her slip of speech. She resisted the paranoid urge to glance over her shoulder to see if Lady Talin was watching.

Carvin didn't seem to notice. He was too intent on his point.

"Someone has to decide," he said. "Do they call them 'classics' just because they like them?"

"There's got to be some sort of criteria," Nre started slowly.

"No, but that's just it," Carvin said, gesturing firmly with his free hand. "They're the ones who come up with the criteria in the first place. We just take them at their word."

"You're probably right," Nre said after considering his point. "But, I like the books, so I'm not complaining."

"That's all that really matters, I suppose," Carvin said, smiling at her.

"You must read them," Nre insisted. "They're not stupid girly-books, honestly. William doesn't fall in love at all until the third book, and then it's more of an instant bond. And anyway, they're too busy fighting off the Druarya to be mushy-gushy, so really, it's perfect."

"Perfect, eh?" Carvin said, not sounding fully convinced.

"Oh come on, listen; I'll tell you what it's about," Nre said.

She spent the next ten minutes summarizing the first book of William's adventures. By the time the maid quietly reminded them it was time to head inside, Nre had won Carvin over.

"Alright, alright," he conceded. "I'll read your books."

Faidn will think I'm mad, but they actually sound interesting.

"Hurrah! I've won!" Nre said smugly, but with a broad grin. "Now it's time for my victory lunch."

"I thought it was brunch."

"Brunch, then," Nre laughed. "It's all the same, anyway."

"Princess," Lois said, appearing at the door. "We must freshen your attire before brunch."

The two of them looked at each other, and laughed.

So that conversation was entirely new, I think. Thoughts on the rewrite so far?

Backroads: She is indeed. She's no tomboy princess, that's for sure. --grin-- Thanks!

Captain: Mm, traveling. I like traveling. Wait, why did you go north for spring break? That seems rather counter-intuitive. --strange look-- Hmm, I'd never thought of that before. I'll keep that in mind for the future, but I don't think that would fit well in the style of this story. I mean, it is rather childish, anyway, and that's on purpose. Honestly I didn't give much thought to my tags. I just sort of imagine how they would say it, and I either make it abundantly clear in the dialogue itself, or else add a tag. Hum. You've given me something to consider. I'm glad you like it, though. --chuckle--

Duchess Delanie: Nre is quite a character. --smile-- Interesting theory... you might want to hold on to that.

Raenad: Well, I'm glad you liked it better the second time around. I do hope it's at least marginally better, with all the work I'm putting into it. --laugh-- And I love that word! I try not to overuse it. o.O

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