Andy knew that Clarissa's parents always took tea at the Lord and Lady Bradbury's house every Thursday afternoon, so he chose that time to pay her a visit. He hadn't seen her in months and months, not since he'd drunkenly shown up at her house after his parents died.
He wasn't sure if she'd even open her bedroom window when he tapped on the glass, or if she'd simply draw the curtains and walk away. He still remembered her scream. He still remembered the way she had looked at him with terror in her eyes as she told him to leave. It had been nearly a year and it was still ingrained in his mind.
But to his surprise, she did open the window.
"Andy," she murmured, as he climbed inside. "What are you doing here?"
"It's been ages since I've seen you," he said, staring down at his shoes. "And I missed you." He lifted his head, finally looking her in the eyes. "Didn't you miss me?"
She stared back at him for what felt like ages, until he had begun to think that maybe he shouldn't have come at all.
"Of course I did," she finally whispered. "My dreams are often nightmares, Andy. But on the rare occasions that they aren't, I dream of you."
He walked over her bed, perching on the edge of it. After a moment's hesitation, she came and sat down to him.
"I know something terrible happened to you," he said. "And I wish you'd trust me enough to tell me about it. I know it must be painful to talk about, but I wish you'd at least try. I can't bear the thought of you suffering by yourself a moment longer. Let me in, Lissa. Please."
She buried her face in her hands, and his heart shattered. "Go away, Andy," she muttered, her voice muffled.
"Lissa…" He reached for her hand, but she snatched it away.
"Why don't you just go running back to Virginia Ashworth?" she said, lifting her head. There were tears welling up in her eyes, and her voice was shaky. "I'm sure she can't wait to marry you and become a princess."
"Virginia Ashworth has nothing to do with this! Lissa, I can't bear this any longer. Just tell me the truth."
"You can't bear it?" she shrieked. "Well, I'm so sorry that everything I've been through is causing you so much pain. I can't imagine what you've been going through. Really, it must have been unbearable. Hopefully I never get hurt again. I wouldn't want you to suffer anymore because of it."
"That's not what I meant!" he exclaimed. "I love you, Clarissa, and more than anything I want to be able to help you through this. I don't care how long it takes. I just can't stand by and let you suffer without doing something. Please."
"I am broken, Andy," she whispered. "I am broken into a million pieces. I don't know how long it'll take to glue me back together, but you'll grow bored before then, I know it. You'll grow bored and you'll leave."
"That's not true," he said. "I'm yours forever, Clarissa. I always have been. All you have to do is say the word and I'll never leave you again."
"I was raped," she said quietly.
Even though he already knew this was probably the case, the words still felt like a knife through his heart.
"Who did it?" he asked quietly.
She shook her head, not responding.
A horrible thought occurred to him. He remembered over a year ago, when she had ended things between them. Afterwards, Eric had told him that she had tried to seduce him the evening before and that he had rejected her advances. Had Eric been the one who had raped her? Is that why she had ended their relationship?
"Was it…was it my…?" He struggled to form the words.
She shook her head. "No, it wasn't anyone you know. It wasn't even anyone I know. It was a stranger that I happened upon when I was walking home after leaving the castle. He…he pulled me into a dark alley and it happened. I didn't even get a good look at his face. The next day I broke things off with you. I didn't want to, but I had to. Being touched, even in the slightest way—I just couldn't…I still can't…That man…He ruined me for everyone else. He ruined me for you. Are you sure you want to be with me, Andy? I don't know when I'll be able to touch you without flinching. It might be a long time."
Relief washed over Andy. It hadn't been Eric. But why would he have said those things about Clarissa? Perhaps he had just misconstrued something she had said. Andy wouldn't be surprised. When you were as self-involved as Eric was, someone asking you how your day was probably sounded dirty. He pushed all thoughts of his brother out of his head.
"That's fine, Lissa. I don't mind. I'm here for you and I'm not going anywhere."
She smiled at him. "I love you, Andy. I never stopped."
His heart soared. It was only the second time he'd ever heard those words come out of her mouth. It had been so dreadfully long since the first time. What a relief it was to hear them again.
Virginia Ashworth was standing in front of her mirror, posing in a large, ostentatious hat, when Andy stepped into her bedroom.
She turned, removing the hat and placing it back in its box. "I got your presents," she said, waving her hand in the direction of a stack of boxes piled beside her, filled with dresses and hats and jewelry.
"I didn't think you'd like very much if I came back from school—after months of not seeing you—and didn't shower you with gifts," he said.
"Well, you're right about that," she said. "I do love being pampered."
He smiled at her fondly. She really was something else. She hadn't even said thank you. With anyone else, it would be insufferable. But she managed to make it charming.
"Ginny, darling," he said. "There's something I need to talk to you about."
"Is that so?" she said, pulling a ruby necklace from its velvet box. "Help me fasten this, will you?"
He did as she commanded.
"What was it you wanted to talk about?" she asked, as she examined her reflection in the mirror, thrusting out her chest and turning from side to side.
"It's about Clarissa."
Virginia managed to pull herself away from her own reflection, and turned around to look at him. "Is she finally taking you back?"
He nodded. "Yes."
"Well, I have to admit that I'll miss you, darling," she said, turning back around and removing the necklace. "You were fun to flirt with, and I liked the idea that I might one day be a princess."
"I'm sure you can still manage it, if you set your heart to it," he said. "There are plenty of other kingdoms out there, with princes looking for pretty wives. Maybe you'll even find one who's next in line for the throne. Then you'll get to be queen. Because let's face it, if anyone was meant to be a queen, it's you."
"You know, I think I may have already found myself a future king," she said. "I met him at a ball a month ago. Prince Edgar of Cerravia. Do you know him?"
"I know of him," Andy said. "I think we may have met once, a few years back, but I don't recall much about him."
"He told me that if I'm ever in Cerravia, I should stop in at his palace and see him. And he kissed me goodnight, even though there was this vile girl—a daughter of some duke—vying for his attentions."
"Just don't go back to Timothy Dewitt," Andy said. "Even if things don't work out with this future king of yours and you can't find another one, don't go back to him."
"I'm not meant to be an old maid, Andy," she said with a sigh. "If no one but Timothy Dewitt will have me, then I will marry him. He may not be a prince, but he's rich and comes from a good family."
Andy stared at her, trying to figure out someone how thought so highly of herself could simultaneously think so little of herself. He tried to think of something to say in response, but she already back to sorting through the boxes. Opening a large striped one and brushing aside the tissue paper, she pulled out a beaded handbag.
"It's exquisite," she said, as she turned it over in her hands, examining it.
"Aren't you going to say thank you?" he asked.
"I never say thank you for things I know I deserve," she said, her tone dismissive.
He gaped at her. The corners of her mouth turned upwards into a smile. "That was a joke, darling."
He chuckled. "It's hard to tell with you."
"Thank you," she said. "You're a doll, Andy. I wish you and Clarissa every happiness."
"I wish you the same," he said, pulling out his pocket watch and glancing at the time. "I should go."
"Wait," she said, as he was turning to leave. "Don't I get a goodbye kiss?"
He hesitated. He knew he probably shouldn't. But she was batting her eyelashes at him all seductively, and really it was just one kiss. It wouldn't hurt anybody.
He nodded, and she crossed the room, pressing her lips against his.
"Wow," he said, after they had pulled apart. "You never kissed me like that before."
"I always save the best for last," she said, walking back over to her mirror. "I figured I'd show you what you'll be missing.
"You're such a tease," he said, smiling.
"I know I am," she replied, already distracted by her own reflection.
"Goodbye, Ginny," he said, turning to leave.
"Bye, Andy," she called after him.
"Ariel!" Flynn exclaimed, opening the door to his shack. "What are you doing here?"
Ariel had woken up that morning with Eric in her bed, their clothes scattered about, and had immediately felt bad about what she had done. She decided that she needed a friend to talk things over with, and Andy was nowhere to be found. She hoped he was off working things out with Clarissa.
"We're friends, aren't we?" she said, stepping inside. "And friends spend time together."
"Don't get me wrong," he said, "I'm pleased to see you. I just didn't expect it."
She sat down in one of his rickety kitchen chairs, and he slipped into the one across from her. "Is there a specific reason you're here?"
"I slept with Eric," she blurted out.
Flynn lifted an eyebrow. "A woman slept with her husband? Fetch me my smelling salts. I am scandalized."
"Don't mock me!" she said. "I feel really bad about it."
"And why is that?" he asked. "Was he bad at it?"
She gasped. "Flynn!"
"What? You're the one who started this conversation. Don't blame me for continuing it."
"It's just that I don't really like him, I don't think. I mean, he was being more tolerable last night, but…I still feel like perhaps I shouldn't have slept with him. I feel like a whore."
He laughed loudly. "Don't be ridiculous, Ariel. You're not a whore. You slept with your husband, for god's sake."
"But I don't like him…"
"So what?"
His question was so blunt that it threw her off for a moment. "Well, I…I…"
"Let's do something to get your mind off all this, how does that sound?" he asked.
"What did you have in mind?"
"When my father is away on his fishing boat for months at a time, it's up to me to make money for myself. Normally I just do odd jobs here and there. However, this week, I wasn't able to find any. And no money means no food."
"I don't have any money on me, if that's what you're asking," she said. "Maybe I can go convince the kitchen staff to give me a few things to bring back for you. I doubt they'd do it though, at least not without asking a bunch of questions."
"That's okay," he said, standing up. "This has happened to me before. I know how to deal with it. I just need you to accompany me to the market."
"Alright," she said uncertainly, unable to figure out what he had planned.
She followed him out of the house. They made small talk as they walked across the beach, and into town.
The market was bustling with activity. Ariel was sure she could stay there all day, just watching everyone go about their lives. But Flynn was clearly on a mission, and there was no time for her to linger and take it all in. He led her over to a fruit stand.
"Hello, Mr. Walsh," he said, smiling at the older, balding vendor.
"Hello, Flynn," the man replied. "What'll you be buying today?"
"Actually, I came to the market today for some other things," Flynn said. "But I thought I'd stop by and say hello." He gestured at Ariel. "And introduce you to my cousin, Isobel. She'd visiting me this week, all the way from Cerravia."
"Cerravia?" the man exclaimed, his eyes twinkling with delight as he turned to inspect Ariel. "That's where my grandpappy's from. Beautiful country. I wish I could visit more often."
"Yes, I do remember you saying something about that," Flynn said. He gently pushed Ariel closer to the man. "Why don't you two talk about that while I go fetch a few things?"
"I don't know anything about Cerravia," Ariel hissed in his ear.
"Don't worry about it," he whispered back. "Mr. Walsh is a talker. Just nod a lot."
So as Mr. Walsh was completely distracted, going on and on about agriculture in the highlands of Cerravia, Flynn grabbed apples and oranges and shoved them in a large, leather bag he had slung over his shoulder. Ariel watched out of the corner of her eye, wondering how Mr. Walsh could possibly be so oblivious.
"I can't believe you just did that!" Ariel said, as they walked away a few minutes later. "You're bolder than I could ever be."
Flynn was hardly listening to her. He had spotted a heavily pregnant woman selling baked goods. "Brilliant," he muttered to himself, veering off in her direction, leaving Ariel to hurry after him.
"Hello, ma'am," Flynn said with a friendly smile. "I couldn't help but notice that you're with child."
"Yes," the woman said, smiling as her hand moved to her stomach. "This will be my second."
"How lovely," Flynn said. He grabbed Ariel's hand and pulled her closer. "My wife here is pregnant with our first." He pointed at her stomach. "She's just starting to show, ever so slightly."
"Ah, yes, I can see that," the woman said, beaming at them.
"We don't really know too many people with children," Flynn said. "Our mothers have both passed. I'm sure my wife has a few questions. Would you be willing to talk to her, just for a few minutes?"
"Certainly!" the woman replied. "What do you need to know, my dear?"
As Ariel chatted with the woman about pregnancy, Flynn grabbed a few loaves a bread and a bit of cake. Ariel knew that she should probably feel guilty, taking advantage of these nice people, but she couldn't help but find it a bit thrilling all the same.
By the time they finally left the market, Flynn had managed to steal some vegetables and a bit of dried meat, as well.
"I hope you don't think too badly of me after that," Flynn said, as they approached his shack. "I don't normally do things like that. It's only when I'm desperate. I try to pay them back eventually, as best I can, without them realizing."
"We all have to eat," she said.
"That we do," he agreed, opening his door and waving her inside.
"Would you like to stay for supper?" he asked, following her in. "I'm making vegetable stew, which is what you had last time, I know. I'll understand if you don't want to. I'm sure they serve much fancier food up there at the castle."
"I like stew," she said, taking a seat at his table. "Especially yours. It was the most delicious meal I've ever had."
He grinned at her. "That's nice of you to say, even if I don't believe it."
They chatted all through the meal, and Ariel was stunned at how comfortable she felt with him. The conversation flowed so naturally and he made her laugh entirely too much.
"Are you sure we didn't know each other before my accident?" she remarked, as they were finishing up their stew. "It somehow feels as if I've known you my whole life."
"I'm absolutely sure," he replied. "But I know what you mean. I feel it to. It's like we're meant to be in each other's lives or something."
She stared at him for a long time, as his words sunk in. She agreed entirely. It was odd sensation, but he…he just felt right.
She reacted almost involuntarily in that moment. She didn't even realize fully what she was doing until she had stretched across the table and pressed her lips against his. He responded almost immediately, kissing her back enthusiastically. Kissing Eric the night before had felt nice, but this…this was different. This was much more than nice. This was fireworks going off in her stomach. This was the best she'd ever felt—at least in the week she actually remembered. This was pure, unadulterated pleasure.
She pulled back, horrified at the realization of what she had just done. "Oh my god!"
"What's wrong?" he asked.
"I'm…I'm married!" she shrieked.
"So what?" he asked—the same blunt question as earlier.
"So, I'm married!" she exclaimed. I can't go around kissing other boys!"
"Normally, I'd agree," he said, lounging lazily back in his chair. "But you told me before that your husband's been sneaking off to be with other girls."
"That's true, but—"
"And you don't actually remember the vows you made to him," he continued.
"Yes, but—"
"And you certainly wouldn't make those vows again, considering you don't even like man all that much."
"I feel like you're a bad influence on me," she finally said. "Getting be to be an accomplice in your thievery. Getting me to kiss you even though I'm married."
"You kissed me, Your Majesty," he said, smirking at her. "And you liked it. I saw the look in your eyes when you pulled away. You loved it."
"It was okay," she lied.
He chuckled, clearly not believing a word of it.
"I should go," she said, standing up. "Thank you for the meal."
"When will I see you again?" he asked.
She was tempted to tell him never, but then she caught sight of the way she was looking at her—his ocean-colored eyes wide and sincere—and she felt slightly dizzy. "I...I don't know," she stammered. "Soon, I hope."
He smiled at her. "I hope so too."
So Andy and Clarissa are finally back together! But he still doesn't know the truth about Eric :(
Please review!