Juliet saw no reason to not clean his fireplace, for the only handicap would be the tight strain of awkwardness in the air. She sighed, still extremely confused. The only way he could ever want to kiss her...it had to be a mistake.
When she entered that night to sweep his fireplace, he was leaning against the wall, watching her. And she was right; plenty of awkwardness. She purposely avoided his burning gaze. She bowed, and walked to the fireplace. She could feel his eyes on her the entire time. When she had the fire started, she turned to go. He blocked her, shutting the door firmly.
"Tale a seat, please." He gestured to his armchair. She hesitated, sighed, put the tools down and perched on the edge of the seat.
He began to pace. He stopped in front of her and opened his mouth to say something, but thought better of it and continued pacing. Finally, he stopped, and stood before her with a grim face. She looked down, suddenly very interested by the intricate designs in the carpet.
"Did it upset you?" He asked suddenly. She jumped, but did not look up. When she made no answer, he nodded his head as an affirmative. "Of course it did." He strode about, a tiger trapped in his cage. He stopped, and looked at her intently, his head slightly titled to the side. She squirmed, feeling awkward under the pressure. After a moment, she looked up at him critically. Her eyes pierced him, but he did not do anything except return the gaze. Eventually, he noticed a different emotion enter her eyes. It seemed to be a mixture of sadness and...hope.
"Why did you do it?" She blurted.
"I honestly don't know." he croaked and looked at her wildly, burning with rage, confusion, something strong. Juliet didn't know it was directed at; himself or her. "You are-were- a beggar who I didn't know. Now you're a maid without control of your action, but that's still no better. I don't- I shouldn't even like you! And what's more, you had the audacity to insult me, your ruler and employer! Even though that may have been months ago-" He cut his sentence short and began to pace one more.
"Perhaps-perhaps you thought I was...maybe, you believed-you saw- not my, but Lucy's face when you kissed me," Juliet ventured cautiously.
He stopped again, Confusion knitted his brow. Shaking his head, he quickly said, "It was not that whore. She was not the subject of my dreams. She was a mistake. Nor was it my previous lovers that you have heard so much about," Juliet blushed furiously at the use of language, and looked down while he continued passionately, "Ever since you have arrived, my life has become a living hell. Everywhere I go, everytime I am away from you, you're on my mind. And I hate it!
"You should mean nothing to me! You have completely enchanted me, bewitched me, stolen my good sense, thereby ruining my life," She looked up and her eyes filled with burning tears. She wasn't sure whether to be offended or flattered, so she opted for the former. He didn't notice and was shocked when she jumped up abruptly. Regret took place instantly and his stomach became pitted with a sick, horrified feeling.
"You don't know me! You don't know anything about me! I may have been a beggar, but I'm more than that. I am a girl, I'm human, as much as you, and I deserve better treatment!" she shouted. She swallowed, took a breath, and continued in a shaky voice, "I'm not a beggar. Not anymore. Show me, sir, where my actions have been wild and uncontrolled, as you imply. And I'm sorry if my presence has hurt you; I will leave immediately," her voice broke on the last word. "I'm sorry. I have to go."
"Juliet. Juliet, I didn't mean it. I'm-" he sighed and ran his hand through his hair. She ran to the door and flung it open, still holding back the imminent tears. He reached for her, clutching her arm. She shook him off and ran blindly down the hall. She ignored his voice, calling for her to come back, a hint of desperation, an undertone of anger, and obvious sorrow ringing in the calls. She looked through her tears for the door, grabbed the handle and pushed the door open. She collapsed on the bed and then, only then, did she let her tears flow freely.
Lucas angrily slammed the door shut and stalked to the other side of the room. Why was he such an idiot? Why? Of course she denied him. He was a prince, she was a servant. It simply was not proper. Not moral. He had plenty of stunning princesses fawning over him, debutaunts who were much more beautiful than a simple maid could ever be. So why was he so set on a young woman- a girl- that he could never have feelings for? He could only be hurting them both if he were to continue this way.
A knock sounded at his door. His heart leapt- could it be?- and promptly sank when he heard he satiny voice from the other side.
"Your majesty, I do so wish you would join me for drinks. I could use a little...company right now," Georgiana sang from the other side of the wooden door. He growled and was tempted to throw a vase at the door, but held back. His mother specifically bought the blue vase to cheer him up, and he knew she would not bear to see it broken. How a vase was supposed to enhance one's spirits, he may never know.
"My dear Princess," he replied in a somewhat rough voice. "I'm afraid I cannot tonight. I am tired." He finished with an inaudiable sigh. He waited for her smooth reply, but relaxed when he heard none. He rose to get dressed for bed, and jumped slightly when another knock resonated throughout the room.
"Lucas?" A man's deep voice echoed from the other side, and Lucas grinned wryly. He walked to the door and flung it open to find his one true friend, Miles, standing on the other side with a similar smirk gracing his face. Miles laughed as a full force smile broke out on Lucas' mouth and he was grabbed into a hug that only true friends can have. Lucas chuckled as he released him and stepped aside to let the man through.
"How are you doing, my friend?" Lucas asked the blonde man. "Last I heard, you ran off to join an army, my army, without telling anybody." He leveled the man with a playful glare. "How could you do that to your poor mother?" He scolded.
The man ran his hand through his curly cherub hair and shrugged. "Thought it was the best thing for me, I s'pose," he winked. "Ya shoulda seen the glare mother sent at me when she saw me at the end of the road. Boy, was I never so scared in m'life."
"She was happy to see you, no doubt," Lucas offered.
"Happy? If ya call being thwacked with a broom multiple times over the head a right proper sign of affection, I am inclined to agree with yeh," he scoffed. "But yes, she did shed a few tears. I did say to her, 'Now, mother dear, dont cry on my sake. I ain't worth a bucket o' mud water on a cold autumn day, much less your precious tears,'" he defended. "An' woulda believe what she did next?"
Lucas smiled knowingly. "No, go on."
"She hit me again! She said I wasn't worth the trouble I put 'er through as a child. Then she got all caught up in the sniffles and crying an' she hugged me again, only to have me dad hobble over and slap me fer makin' me momma cry. You'd be thinkin' I am a troublesome thorn bush, much less their son," he murmered darkly. He looked up to see Lucas chuckling and frowned. "Well you wouldnt be laughin' as much if t'da been you," he protested. After a moment his smile was back and he punched Lucas softly on the shoulder softly. "Now enough talk about me, princey dear, tell me you have a story or two." A dark cloud passed over Lucas' face and Miles nodded slowly.
"Ah. I see," he smiled knowingly. "Heres a fix- whaddya say we go down to the pub an' get us a pint, an' you tell me all about it?" Lucas thought about and consented.
"For nostalgia's sake."
A/N: And what fun I had writing this chapter, eh? How do you like a frustrated and somewhat idiotic Lucas? And Milees, his witty sidekick and best bud? He is based on a lovley character by Shakespear that I am rather fond of. Guess, maybe. Except for you, 'Becca. You aren't allowed. How are you guys? I am sorry if I have any grammatical errors. I spell checked twice and read over it but it is in beta'd so yeah. sorry. also if I completely butchered his accent, please don't kill me. I listened to David Tennant reading while writing this, so his voice. Helped a bit. Sadly, he wasn't reading my lines of dialogue. So it wasn't exactly what I wanted . Again, many apologies