This chapter is rather short, and I know some of you will be displeased
with that fact. But I promise the next one will be super long to make up
for it, and it will come out very soon. Promise. Now on to reviews…
Impluse_k9-Most people have never heard of Cat-Skin. It is only semi well known. Some other names are furball and, well, other names.
FairySprite-I am glad to see you have figured out there is a "princling".
MysticalDreams-A story from China? You said the dresses were different. How so? I'd like to know! (Another rhyme!)
Also thanks to Mischief Mayhem and Chaos, Stuntwoman, Shrouded Spirit, MiniMichelle2, and OYC_bambi.
Ok…I make picture frames with dry old sticks, it is now time for chapter six! *swish!*
"Blast!" cried Isabelle, after dropping a hot loaf of bread form the oven. "That's the second this morning!" She looked around quickly and the placed it on the table, making sure no one saw it fall.
A few notes of lilting music floated down the corridor into the kitchen and hit Isabelle with a homesick pang. I miss home, she thought, just a bit. The musical entertainment is starting to practice. That means the ball for the Prince will be starting soon. Oh, how I miss balls at home!
She then scolded herself for missing her home. Why should she miss a crazy father and boring social gatherings? Oh, but she was even starting to miss the social gatherings. Maybe I could go up and watch for just a little while, she thought, then feeling guilty for missing such useless royal events.
She continued with her work. After an hour or so, her sensitive ears could tell the ball was starting. The music was playing perfectly and softly. She could hear voices, and a man announcing the guests as they came in.
"Lady Jane Pittman of Aragon."
"Sir John Hugo of Cereliton."
The voice seemed so familiar to Isabelle, like a worn security blanket.
Just a few minutes. She finished taking more loaves of bread out of the oven, an then when she was sure Eliza was nowhere to be seen she glanced around and headed for the door. She started for the stairs when Eliza jumped out of nowhere. Isabelle wondered if she stood in the shadows and jumped out like a loony every time a servant went to get a breath of fresh air.
"Going somewhere, cat-skin?" She said this with disgust and disdain dripping from every syllable.
"I—I, if you please, ma'am, I just…"
"You just what?"
"I—I…"
"You what?"
"I just wanted to see the festivities."
"You wanted to see the festivities." She repeated, almost as if she was correcting Isabelle.
"Y—yes…"
"Why did you not ask me?"
"I…I was going to…"
"Liar." She said. "You were going to watch without me."
"No…"
"Yes you were."
After what seemed like ten years of thick silence, Isabelle finally timidly asked, "So, may I go?"
"Bake a few more loaves of bread, cook one more goose, wash the mantle and sweep the floors and stairs. After that you may go watch the party and do whatever you please. But make sure you are back by half past midnight. I am going home; and the prince must have his supper before he goes off into his royal bed. I want you to cook it."
"What does he want?"
"The same always—one bowl of soup and a slice of bread."
"Ok."
"That's clear then?"
"Yes…uh, may I go?"
"Yes, you may."
Isabelle smiled, thanked Eliza and tore up the stairs in a burst of happiness.
~**~
Isabelle peeked past the door leading to the ballroom and watched the place longingly. How she missed the sweet music, the lovely dresses and the food! She felt very guilty for missing all of it, but she did. The king, queen and prince had not entered yet, as their thrones sat vacant at the head of the room.
After a quarter of an hour of watching the festivities go on, a ear splitting fanfare was heard, and the voice announced,
"Presenting King Robert and Queen Anna of Caputo, and their son, Prince William, who is celebrating his nineteenth birthday."
Isabelle watched as the three enters. The King and Queen were typical royals, with a pasted-on smile and waving gently.
But the prince, he was another story.
Wearing an I-don't-care expression on his face, he was slouchy and obviously uncomfortable in his fancy clothes.
Isabelle was quite surprised at the sight of the young man. She felt right then and there she wanted to meet him. You can't, she thought, look at you now, you're kitchen help. You'd be laughed out of the place if you went in there now.
At that moment her thoughts went to the dresses back in her room. No, let go of this life, she thought, furiously cramming the thought back in her head. But if I don't use them, they will just go to waste. Why did I bring them anyway?
"Ye never know when those dresses will come in handy…" Angie's comforting voice came back into Isabelle's head.
Ok, so maybe a few minutes, Isabelle thought. I will just put on one of the dresses, go up for a few minutes, and then come back down.
But of course, as fairy tales go, nothing is that simple.
Impluse_k9-Most people have never heard of Cat-Skin. It is only semi well known. Some other names are furball and, well, other names.
FairySprite-I am glad to see you have figured out there is a "princling".
MysticalDreams-A story from China? You said the dresses were different. How so? I'd like to know! (Another rhyme!)
Also thanks to Mischief Mayhem and Chaos, Stuntwoman, Shrouded Spirit, MiniMichelle2, and OYC_bambi.
Ok…I make picture frames with dry old sticks, it is now time for chapter six! *swish!*
"Blast!" cried Isabelle, after dropping a hot loaf of bread form the oven. "That's the second this morning!" She looked around quickly and the placed it on the table, making sure no one saw it fall.
A few notes of lilting music floated down the corridor into the kitchen and hit Isabelle with a homesick pang. I miss home, she thought, just a bit. The musical entertainment is starting to practice. That means the ball for the Prince will be starting soon. Oh, how I miss balls at home!
She then scolded herself for missing her home. Why should she miss a crazy father and boring social gatherings? Oh, but she was even starting to miss the social gatherings. Maybe I could go up and watch for just a little while, she thought, then feeling guilty for missing such useless royal events.
She continued with her work. After an hour or so, her sensitive ears could tell the ball was starting. The music was playing perfectly and softly. She could hear voices, and a man announcing the guests as they came in.
"Lady Jane Pittman of Aragon."
"Sir John Hugo of Cereliton."
The voice seemed so familiar to Isabelle, like a worn security blanket.
Just a few minutes. She finished taking more loaves of bread out of the oven, an then when she was sure Eliza was nowhere to be seen she glanced around and headed for the door. She started for the stairs when Eliza jumped out of nowhere. Isabelle wondered if she stood in the shadows and jumped out like a loony every time a servant went to get a breath of fresh air.
"Going somewhere, cat-skin?" She said this with disgust and disdain dripping from every syllable.
"I—I, if you please, ma'am, I just…"
"You just what?"
"I—I…"
"You what?"
"I just wanted to see the festivities."
"You wanted to see the festivities." She repeated, almost as if she was correcting Isabelle.
"Y—yes…"
"Why did you not ask me?"
"I…I was going to…"
"Liar." She said. "You were going to watch without me."
"No…"
"Yes you were."
After what seemed like ten years of thick silence, Isabelle finally timidly asked, "So, may I go?"
"Bake a few more loaves of bread, cook one more goose, wash the mantle and sweep the floors and stairs. After that you may go watch the party and do whatever you please. But make sure you are back by half past midnight. I am going home; and the prince must have his supper before he goes off into his royal bed. I want you to cook it."
"What does he want?"
"The same always—one bowl of soup and a slice of bread."
"Ok."
"That's clear then?"
"Yes…uh, may I go?"
"Yes, you may."
Isabelle smiled, thanked Eliza and tore up the stairs in a burst of happiness.
~**~
Isabelle peeked past the door leading to the ballroom and watched the place longingly. How she missed the sweet music, the lovely dresses and the food! She felt very guilty for missing all of it, but she did. The king, queen and prince had not entered yet, as their thrones sat vacant at the head of the room.
After a quarter of an hour of watching the festivities go on, a ear splitting fanfare was heard, and the voice announced,
"Presenting King Robert and Queen Anna of Caputo, and their son, Prince William, who is celebrating his nineteenth birthday."
Isabelle watched as the three enters. The King and Queen were typical royals, with a pasted-on smile and waving gently.
But the prince, he was another story.
Wearing an I-don't-care expression on his face, he was slouchy and obviously uncomfortable in his fancy clothes.
Isabelle was quite surprised at the sight of the young man. She felt right then and there she wanted to meet him. You can't, she thought, look at you now, you're kitchen help. You'd be laughed out of the place if you went in there now.
At that moment her thoughts went to the dresses back in her room. No, let go of this life, she thought, furiously cramming the thought back in her head. But if I don't use them, they will just go to waste. Why did I bring them anyway?
"Ye never know when those dresses will come in handy…" Angie's comforting voice came back into Isabelle's head.
Ok, so maybe a few minutes, Isabelle thought. I will just put on one of the dresses, go up for a few minutes, and then come back down.
But of course, as fairy tales go, nothing is that simple.