Summary: A desperate monarch makes a pact with another king that will one day force him to give his headstrong daughter to the king's harsh son. Within the castle walls lay many secrets, including a deadly curse with one year to break. Let the fairytale begin.
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Chapter Seven
He was uneasy.
This was nothing new, actually. He was uneasy a lot of the time, about various things. About ruling, about life, about marriage, about the…ahem. But today, it was neither of that that bothered him. Rather, it wasn't something but someone.
Cecilia. He had to admit that he treated her rather abominably, especially during their first meeting. He didn't know what overcame him. He wasn't the nicest person to walk the earth, but he certainly wasn't that… arrogant. He was hardly ever that vicious.
Derek once prided himself on not bearing many of the characteristics of his forefathers. They were cruel and merciless tyrants and they were the very reason he was in this current predicament. Derek had their temper, but he liked to think that he was better in controlling it. Apparently not. And that bothered him immensely.
Striding confidently down the hall, he hoped Cecilia would be where he had hoped she would be. Much to his relief, as he opened the door to the little library, he saw her, sitting in one of the chairs, a novel propped open upon her lap. As she sat near the roaring fire, with her cheeks flushed from the fire and her lips the most enchanting shade of shell pink, Derek couldn't help but compare her to a delicate flower.
When she saw him enter, her eyes widened slightly, but she did not move. He didn't either. They looked at each other for a few more pauses until she finally stood and bowed her head in greeting and respect. "I didn't expect to see you this morning, Crown Prince."
He gave a slight bow as well. "I… was looking for you, actually, Crown Princess," he admitted, deciding to try that honest route again.
"Really?" The ice that coated her words slipped away with surprise.
He nodded. "I just… I wanted to apologize."
The hardened looked took over her features again. She scowled and turned back to her book. "Let me take a guess, Your Highness. Your mother caught wind of what you said and demanded you apologize."
Derek frowned. "No. I genuinely feel bad for what I said. It was… it was terrible of me, to say the least. I don't know why I did it. I let my temper get the best of me—it's a rather nasty characteristic." Before he knew what he was saying, Derek scowled, muttering, "It's bad enough that I am to have their fate, but the fact that I am no better than they… that is just unacceptable. And I'd hate for you to think me as terrible as them—Princess. I really am quite sorry—"
Cecilia stopped him, suddenly scared at the hysteria in his eyes. Whatever it was that he was struggling with, it was far more important than the petty games they played. It was time to stop. Besides, his apology really did seem sincere. "It's… it is fine, Highness. I accept your apology," she gave him a little smile to show him that she had forgiven him.
This very much relieved him, for he let out a breath of air he didn't realize he had been holding. "Thank you."
A silence fell over them. Once again they stood, looking at each other. Finally, Cecilia gave him a little quirk of her eyebrow, asking, Are you going to just stand there? Giving her a little smirk right back, he strode over to the bookcase, picked up Hamlett, and sat into the chair near hers.
They read in a comfortable silence for a while, before with a sigh, Derek slammed his book shut. Cecilia jumped slightly at the sound and her eyes went to him immediately. She could feel his discomfort and embarrassment, as if the sheepish smile wasn't enough indication.
"I'm sorry," he said. "I just have a lot on my mind."
"The ball?" she asked with a dry smile.
"I'm afraid so. I always hate those damn things, pardoning my language," he cursed.
Cecilia laughed. "No, I don't mind at all," she said. "Truth be told, I never cared for balls as well. I may have been raised as a lady, but they are certainly not my forte, I assure you."
"If you don't mind me saying, you are definitely not a conventional lady, Princess," Derek reminded her.
Instead of getting angry, Cecilia merely looked at the clasped hands folded in her lap. "No," she agreed, her voice tinged with winsome and regret all at once. "No, I'm certainly not, am I?"
Derek frowned. He could detect the unease and the insecurity of her tense figure. "That's nothing to be ashamed of," he told her, trying to lighten the mood. "Honestly, it's better than being one of those girls who chats and twitters all day long about nothing. Or one of those girls whose only goal in life is to marry well and do whomever—I mean, do it however she can."
Cecilia flushed at the implications but pointed out placidly, "But what can you expect? Society doesn't exactly have many opportunities for girls."
Derek leaned his head on his hand, a thoughtful look on his face. "Yes, that's true, isn't it? I know Mother has been trying to get some girls academies up and around rural areas. Although I confess I'm not too optimistic concerning its success."
Cecilia bristled. "And why not?"
Derek saw her expression and hastened to explain, "I'm not saying that I am against girls getting an education, so don't look at me like that. All I'm saying is that girls are expected to do just as much work as boys in farms and shops and so forth—or so I hear. How can they be spared around the house to go to school?"
For once, Cecilia was silent. As much as she hated to admit it, he had a point. But then, "Why couldn't you pass a law that made girls—or all children, rather—go to school a certain amount of time out of the year?"
She saw him considering the idea, his dark eyes narrowed in calculation. "I personally like the idea," he told her finally, "but I'm not sure how The Council will take it, or the common people. Children are like hired help in families and quite crucial. Besides, how am I to ensure that the children are actually going to school? Who will teach them? Will families have to pay? Or will there be a tax on things? Who will pay the teachers? How many schools per children, per area? Will there be different levels? How are we going to get supplies to these schools? What supplies do we need? What subjects should we teach? How long would they be in school per day? There are so many variables that it's absolutely mind-boggling, Princess."
It seemed he had thought about this before, Cecilia mused, and decided that all she could say was, "One step at a time, I think. Just one step at a time."
"What about Italle?" Derek wanted to know. "Do you have a school system?"
"We once had an established school system," Cecilia admitted. "Children would go to school during the winters, where work on farms and shops were slow and limited. The schools were segregated by gender, although I personally would like to see them integrated. Oh well, beggars cannot be choosers—Anyway, we didn't want to tax the townspeople, so the teacher would get paid with room and board at people's homes. In short, every few weeks the teacher would be at a different pupil's house. If the said teacher would prefer his own home, then people would pay him with food or supplies or clothing, etc. There was always a certain amount of money set aside in the treasury for school supplies to send to the children. They were taught basic reading, writing, mathematics, science, and literature. Attendance was never a problem because the system was established a couple centuries ago and people don't know anything different. My ancestors were quite ahead of their time."
"Obviously," Derek said, impressed.
"However," confessed Cecilia, "since the war, schools have been damaged. Teachers have gone off to fight and many killed. Families have been devastated and can't spare their children for school. Not to mention our treasury has been so drained we can't give funds to schools. It's a terrible wreck right now," she looked genuinely distraught.
Mimicking her words, Derek said softly, "One step at a time, Princess. Just one step at a time."
Both monarchs never suspected that those words were now the motto of their newfound friendship.
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Neither Cecilia nor Derek asked why the other always came up to the little room after breakfast. Derek suspected Cecilia was as fed up with the girls as he was, and Cecilia was positive Derek wanted some alone time as well. The two would read for a couple hours, mostly not talking, although it didn't matter. The silence was companionable and both took full advantage of it.
Needless to say, it wasn't entirely smooth sailing from there. More times than not, Derek stormed into the library in a foul mood. In the beginning, this surprised Cecilia. At breakfast he was polite and calm, but she learned later that he was upset at something The Council did, or so-and-so wasn't paying taxes, or what's-his-name got into a fight with someone-or-other and both arguments were entirely ridiculous, but as prince, of course he had to end the silly squabble. At first, Cecilia was as irritated at his behavior, and the two would have little tiffs.
"I would dearly love to see you attempt to rule a country, Princess," he would tell her any time she complained.
Cecilia pursed her lips. While her father let her sit in on meetings with Parliament, he hardly ever let her help. However, with Derek, his mother was queen in title only. She had hardly any want to rule the country, at least not by herself. She let Derek make decisions to prepare him for becoming king. "I may not be the ruler of my country, Crown Prince, but I certainly know the process," she would snap right back.
And then he would stomp away out of the room, only to return ten minutes later, with a small bribe of snacks and a mumbled apology. And of course, because her temper had calmed down by then as well, she would always accept him.
So today—two weeks after their initial truce—was no different. She was sitting in what she had deemed 'Her Chair', waiting for his loud arrival.
Three… two… one…
Instead of the usual SLAM, the door opened slowly, and Cecilia raised her eyes, curious. It was indeed Derek. He looked resigned and definitely irritated. Oh, dear, not again.
Swallowing, Cecilia eyed him warily. "Dare I even ask?" She voiced dryly.
He gave her a wry little smile of his own. "No," he told her, "the look on your face speaks volumes."
Rolling her eyes, Cecilia gave him a, "Har-de-har, that was hysterical. Now really, what's wrong?"
Flopping into a chair, formality be damned, Derek gave a sigh. "Mother took me aside after breakfast and has been complaining that I haven't been playing host very well. The only time I see you girls is during meal times, really, which I find ideal. However, Mother wants me to…" here he looked pained, "spend some time with all of you. Starting with today after lunch. We're going on a…a walk of the palace grounds. All together." Rubbing a hand over his eyes, he continued, saying, "I only spend a good two hours a day with these girls and already I know it's going to be a headache. Tell me, am I right?"
Thinking of The Infamous Four, Heidi, and (here Cecilia's eyes narrowed), the Countess, she replied, "It's not going to be a headache, Highness," she paused for dramatic effect. "It's going to be a migraine."
"Why me?" Moaning, Derek put his head in his hands. "Why me?"
Although Cecilia felt quite sorry for the prince, she couldn't help but grin sadistically to Ana after lunch and say, "This is more entertaining than any ball will ever be."
Trying to stifle a giggle, Ana said, "You're terrible, Cecy," she had taken to calling Cecilia Cecy, just as Cecilia's sister did. "The poor boy. I would go save him but I'm afraid for my hearing." If Ana intervened, The Infamous Four would probably make such a ruckus over it anyone with in five miles would go deaf.
As if by silent agreement, the girls let Countess Keleigh and Princess Heidi be at the Prince's side. Right behind them were the Infamous Four, twittering and giggling even more than usual. Trailing a few yards back were Ana, Cecilia, Tessa, and Fiona. Fiona was silently picking flowers, a faint smile on her face as she listened to Tessa doing imitations of Countess Keleigh. Ana was laughing hysterically, knowing that no one could hear her (the Infamous Four took care of that problem.)
With a contented smile, Cecilia reflected that perhaps this hadn't been so bad after all. Fraanc really was a beautiful country, especially the wooded capital. The capital itself was situated on rolling hills in the middle of a lush forest, though the river that was near led to a larger town. The solitude and peace of it all was soothing and with the snow-capped mountains in the distance and the trickle of a nearby waterfall in the background, it really was an ideal place to just… be.
The village was quaint and homely, with friendly faces and the smell of fresh bread. It was evident that the townspeople adored the stoic prince, who never failed to courteously ask how the market was faring, if prices were acceptable, if the latest trade from Switzerlin was successful.
Here in the village everyone sobered, becoming nobility once more. Even the Infamous Four toned down their obnoxious ways. Now that they were amongst commoners, however, rank was in order. Cecilia and Ana were now at Derek's side, for they were first in line for their respective thrones. Behind them were Heidi, Tessa, and Fiona, who, while they were princesses, were not Crown Princesses. And then, sulking behind them were the Infamous Four and Countess Keleigh, who were not monarchs at all.
Out of the corner of her eye, Cecilia saw Derek visibly relax once she and Ana were at his sides and she tried to smother a laugh.
"Are you enjoying yourself, Crown Prince?" she managed to ask sweetly.
In a split second, Derek's reserve melted and a scowl emerged, but Cecilia blinked and his visage was neutral once again. "It certainly has been a memorable experience, Princess," he said, and Cecilia smirked at the double-meaning behind his answer. "And yourself?"
"It has been pleasanter than I expected," she answered honestly.
Derek turned to Ana and repeated the question, while Cecilia turned her attention elsewhere. A few feet away, a beefy, pot-bellied man had just kicked a puppy, its whimper muffled by the chatter of the crowd. "Scram, mutt!" The man yelled. "Be gone!"
The puppy itself reminded Cecilia more of a wolf than anything, but looking closely, it wasn't a wolf. Its fur wasn't the typical flinty gray, but white and black, although many wouldn't spot the difference. But because she had been to Greenlin, Cecilia knew that this was a husky puppy, approximately six months old. But how had it gotten to Fraanc?
One thing was for sure, she had to rescue it. Murmuring an "Excuse me, Crown Prince," she took off, weaving through the crowd.
Meanwhile, snapping his attention from conversing with Ana to Cecilia's retreating figure, Derek scowled. What has that dratted girl gotten into this time? He turned to Ana, who already said, "I think it be best if you see where Cecilia has gone, Crown Prince. Do not worry. Tessa and I will keep things under control." Nodding gratefully, Derek took off.
It turned out she was hardly four yards away. She was in the middle of a heated monologue with a rather menacing man, who only looked down sheepishly. He heard her say, "I think I will be taking this 'mutt' sir, and I hope that in the future you will be kinder towards animals." As she turned around, she bumped into Derek, saying, "Oh, Your Highness."
He didn't answer her, only staring at the little thing in her arms. He frowned, deeply, his senses confused. It certainly looked like a wolf, why didn't it smell like one?
"It's a puppy," Cecilia hastened to explain. "Do not worry, it's not a wolf. It's a husky puppy. They are commonly mistaken for wolves. I saw one once in Greenlin."
The pup, seeing Derek, immediately tried to wiggle into his arms. "I think he likes you," Cecilia told him with a smile.
Derek recognized the reason why the pup seemed to like him so much and brushed off the subject. "What are you going to do with him?"
Cecilia bit her lip. "I haven't decided yet." She pondered, finally looking at him with a hope in her eyes. "Do you think…? Would it be all right if I…?"
With a sigh, Derek rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, you may keep it. But don't let it run rampant around the castle." Seeing the huge smile on her face made giving in worth it.
The walk home was filled with either disgusted glances or womanly coos at the little puppy ("Oh Cecily, he is so adorable!") who lapped up the attention like a cat with milk. His mother hadn't minded the dog's presence, merely repeating Derek's, albeit more politely.
All the servants, once they found out it was a cute and furry puppy instead of a mangy cat (Cecilia didn't understand why no one in Fraanc liked cats), immediately set to spoil the pup. Derek, for one, couldn't stand to be anywhere near the scene and fled. For whatever reason, seeing Cecilia later that night with the wolf-ish puppy, cuddling it and loving it, made Derek's heart ache.
And that scared him.
Last Edited: 2/7/09
