Author's Note: Thanks everyone for reading, reviewing, and adding this story to their favorites and alerts! It really means a lot to me! I went on a writing spree and have another two chapters written after this, so I will upload them two days apart or so. This is making up for that terribly long span of 3-4 weeks in which I did not update. I hope I am forgiven and you will not abandon reading this! Sincerely, Off Dreaming
CHAPTER 25: Slip of the Tongue
With Maria in charge, the preparation for the ball moved forward at a rapid rate. Astra quickly became annoyed with the details, but Maria persistently called upon her for her opinions on cutlery and napkins.
"First she tells me I'm ugly and then she wants to know my thoughts on china plates. I'm like, 'Hell, how would an obviously uncultured girl like myself know?' The woman is psychotic! And don't even get me started on Madam Fucking Perkins!" Even though Caspian was the royalty of the castle, Astra was royally pissed when Caspian suggested she restart her etiquette lessons with Madam Perkins. They were out in the flower garden at the time and Astra was on hands and knees, dirtying the white dress she decided to wear that day. She dug through the loose, rich soil with bare hands, dropping in seeds that would sprout into little sprigs within a few days.
"Well, perhaps just a refresh course? Simply to remind yourself—"
"How to eat food? How to walk? I have nineteen years of experience of that, thank you very much," Astra retorted.
"High society will be there and they will be scrutinizing your every move. Although it is not fair that they will, in all likelihood, judge you in this way, it will inevitably happen, and I do not want you to embarrass yourself." As soon as the words tumbled out of his mouth, he knew he would be in for an earful, to say the least.
"Embarrass myself?" Astra asked softly, looking at him like he just slapped her. "Embarrass myself?!?!" her voice rose in octaves and volume. "I don't fucking need your help to embarrass myself, Your Mother Fucking Majesty. I can do that my fucking self, thank you very fucking much." She stormed past him and he chased after her with a frightening thought: since when did words even tumble out of his mouth? He rarely made mistakes such as this. After all, things like that started wars.
"Astra, please do not go!"
"Fuck off!"
"Stop saying that word." It was this that made her stop in her tracks.
"I will say whatever the fuck I want!" she screeched, deliberately emphasizing Caspian's "favorite" word. She opened up her mouth to say something else, then closed it. "I can't talk to you right now." Caspian took a step forward. She held her ground with her chin determinedly jutting out. He bowed his head, his shoulders slumping forward. His head hovered to the side of hers, and although he could feel her eyes stabbing him, he could not bear to meet her gaze.
"I am so sorry," he apologized and then walked away. From a window, he could see her stalk back to the garden and pull weeds with new found energy.
Astra approached him the next day, a ball of fury. Caspian quickly repeated that he was sorry, but she cut him off rather determinedly.
"No. Shut up. No, you don't get to talk. You've said enough. Hell, it's my turn, so shut up because… because yeah, I fucking said so." Caspian was quiet. "You aren't worried about me embarrassing myself. I don't care if I embarrass myself in front of those fools. I don't care and you know that. You know what I think? I think you are embarrassed of me."
"I am not—"
"Cut the crap, Caspian. I am a mar on your otherwise perfect record. I get it; I could screw up everything because people will be watching me, but it's not me they will judge, it will be you. 'What kind of filth does the King keep around the castle nowadays?' I get it, appearances are important, I'm not stupid, I get it. You… just… you were god-awful."
"I am so ashamed of myself." She didn't say anything, but her silence said 'as you should.' "And worst of all, I have no excuse I can offer you of my behavior. I could say that I am stressed with responsibility on my shoulders, or I could fabricate a different lame excuse of my lack of sleep, but it would be a terrible lie. I can only offer you my most sincere apologies and hope that you accept them, although I frankly believe I do not deserve your forgiveness." Astra considered this for a moment.
"Why do you always talk like you belong in some ridiculous and trashy romance novel?" Caspian did not wish to say anything, lest he offend her again. "You sound like you're reading off a script."
"I mean it. I truly do."
"You think I talk weird, I think you talk weird. We're even." She walked away.
"Does this mean you forgive me?"
"Forgiveness pending," she said with a straight face, but the twinkle in her eye was reassuring. In the end, she still refused to meet with Madam Perkins and Caspian did not push the matter. Nonetheless, this did not stop the woman from hounding Astra with tips and reminders. Astra earnestly promised she would behave and try not to cause any problems.
"I can hold my own," she declared. "Besides, I can't hover around you because then no girl will want to talk to you. So, I'm going to avoid you like my hairbrush." She played what she described as a "practical joke" on Maria by intentionally messing up her hair and not brushing it for three days. Unfortunately, Maria was otherwise occupied with the planning of the ball and did not have as much time to yell at Astra as the young lady hoped. "No worries, though, I will get all gussied up for the ball." Caspian squirmed a bit at this, thinking of the ways the kitchen boys and stable hands would look at her inconspicuously.
"May I please give you one word of advice?" he requested. Astra fake-pondered this for a moment then assented. "In Narnia, we treat men and women equally, but that is not the case in other countries. I am not asking you to dumb yourself down—no, I would not dishonor you by requesting that—but I ask that you do be careful and understand that you may encounter some discrimination. But, as you said, you can hold your own." She cracked a sly grin.
"Awwwwww!! Big brudda Caspian looking out for wee li'l Astra! You're a funny kid," she said, patting his cheek and skipping off.
"No curves? What kind of woman are you? How do you expect to attract gentlemen?" cried the seamstress, looking at Astra's stick-straight, boyish figure.
"I was going to hope that my sparkling personality would do that," Astra said with a purposefully crooked grin.
"Perhaps a bright colored dress would be wonderful!" piped up May, always the optimist.
"Yellow!!!" the woman cried, holding a particularly sharp pin in the air. "You will be a sweet yellow flower and all the gentlemen-bees will want your nectar," the seamstress declared, advancing on her like prey.
"That is a truly horrifying simile." However, the dress the seamstress created was a dream. The corset was tied tightly in the back ("Look, I have boobs!" Astra cried with glee) and the straps, a creamy white lace, hung loosely on her shoulders. The skirt fell straight down, a shiny yellow silk, and billowed out in the back when she moved.
"It is trendy for Narnian fashion, more flowing material instead of large layers, but the girl without a figure wears it well." That was Astra's name to the seamstress: the girl without a figure. Nonetheless, Astra took the compliment. And without fail, May outdid herself again and managed to pin Astra's (for once) soft, shiny curls into a bun and apply bronze kohl on her eyelids to make her blue eyes pop. Even Maria and Lady Perkins gave satisfied nods, which meant a lot.
Caspian told her she could simply slip into the party when she was ready. May wished her luck and Astra concentrated on not tripping as she made her way to the hidden back entrance to the ballroom. She slithered inside and was in awe of the spectacular room. Maria had stolen the image of the hall she evoked in Caspian's mind, with the chandeliers blazing and an orchestra crooning in the corner. Astra picked up a glass of wine and searched for Caspian in the room. She found him with a crowd of people surrounding him. These people departed and Astra saw her chance. She felt the urge to run up behind him and cover his eyes, asking "Guess who?" but remembered where she was. Pushing her shoulders back as Madam Perkins instructed, Astra walked up to his side.
"Your Majesty," she said with a bow and a hidden smirk, not use to addressing him by his formal title.
"Lady Astra," he said, nodding back. "Pace yourself," he said, eying her wine glass. "It is going to be a long night."
"Oh yeah," she agreed, "because this place just seems to be full of rabble-rousers." Caspian glanced around the hall with Astra and grinned—the party was still relatively placid, with people still streaming through the glass double-doors. "People are looking at us oddly."
"Correction: they are looking at you oddly."
"I'll have you know I am refraining from sticking out my tongue at them."
"Duly noted and much appreciated. Although, you should know they are only staring because you look… lovely."
"Thanks, you are looking spiffy yourself." Caspian blushed a little. "Now go flirt and be merry. And don't try any of the pick-up lines I told you before, you will probably get slapped."
Caspian tried to remember them, but most were rather vulgar and so it was not something he wanted to commit to memory. After all, it was Wednesday when they were whining with wine when she told him, and so she was a tad drunk. However, the only one he could remember was the one she gave him permission to use: Did the sun come out or did you just smile at me?
"It's got to be the right girl though," she said that night, slowly tipping over as she wagged a finger at him. "Promise?"
"Yes, I promise."
At the ball, Astra was already across the room and had struck up a conversation with a number of gentlemen. They said something funny and she laughed, her smile putting the chandeliers to shame.