Hey all! It's an extra super long chapter to make up for the short one last
time!
"Lady Mary of Ginova." Isabelle whispered to the man at the door, using her first name. She was wearing her golden sun dress, with her strawberry blonde hair loose and cascading down her shoulders. The man announced her name, and she walked down the stairs. The guests at the ball seemed to stop dancing when her name was announced, for one because it was unfamiliar, and two, because she was from Ginovia, an enemy country.
Once they looked up at her, her origin was immediately forgotten. Her beauty silenced the entire room, which seemed to freeze for about thirty seconds. The music stopped and the guests gaped at the mysterious woman before them. The King and Queen sat with their mouths wide open, and the only person that seemed to be unaffected in the whole room was Prince William, who was yawning on his throne.
Isabelle was annoyed by the court's behavior. It was like this wherever she went. She sometimes wished she was plain, because that way people wouldn't stop and stare at her on the streets, and she wouldn't be judged by her beauty, but by who she was. She had yet to meet someone who didn't acknowledge her beauty and instead tried to find out what she was really like. Heck, her beauty was what caused everything. If she had been plainer, her father wouldn't have insisted on her marriage and she wouldn't have had to run away. She could be at home right now, reading with Angie…
Isabelle walked down the stairs and through the large ballroom. The crowd parted for her as she went down to the King and Queen's thrones. When she got there she bowed before them.
"Your majesty, King Robert and Queen Anna of Caputo, I have come from the Kingdom of Ginovia to escape the tyrannical King. I know our Kingdoms are enemies, but I beg of you that you do not banish me."
The Queen spoke, standing as she did so. "No child, of course not! You may stay here as long as you like."
"Yes, you may." The King chimed in. "Have you anywhere to stay?"
"Why, yes, am staying in an Inn on the edge of town."
"Oh, no, my dear! An inn? A young Lady like yourself is staying in an inn? Preposterous! I insist you stay with us."
"No, it is quite all right."
"But Lady Mary--"
"I assure you, Your Majesty, that I am fine where I am and I appreciate your hospitality."
"You are sure then?"
"Quite."
"Very well then. Lady Mary, I would like to introduce you to my son, Prince William."
"Your Grace." Isabelle curtseyed deeply. The Prince did not reply, but made a stiff bow and grumbled something.
"Music!" The King cried, and the lilting notes started up again.
"Lady Mary," The Queen spoke, "Would you like to dance with my son?"
William shot the Queen a shocked and angry look. She shot him back a do-as- you're-told-or-you'll-hear-it-from-me-later look.
"If your Grace wishes to." Isabelle didn't want to dance with a grouchy prince.
"No, then." He said, and turned towards the wall.
"William!" The Queen cried sharply. Even though it was one word it said a million things. Don't make a scene. Do what you're told. Don't mess with me. That was rude. Why slight such a beautiful lady?
"Fine." The Prince finally sighed, and turned towards her. He grabbed her hand awkwardly and led her onto the dance floor.
A new song started and William started to lead her. She could hear him quietly counting to himself with each turn. He didn't seem very happy to dance with her, paying her as much indifference as he did everyone else.
Isabelle had mixed feelings about his behavior. No one had treated her like everyone else. People had always had a high regard for her because of her looks. She felt slightly mad because of this, although she wouldn't admit it. She was displeased that he didn't notice her beauty. But at the same time she was strangely pleased that he didn't notice. That meant it didn't matter to him.
"One, two, three…" William quietly counted.
"Are you counting?" She asked, desperately trying to make conversation.
"What? Oh, yes." He said, losing count and stepping on her toes. "Sorry, Lady…"
"Mary. Lady Mary of Ginovia."
"Ginovia. It sounds familiar. Is my father at war with that kingdom?" His voice was monotone and the conversation seemed forced.
"I believe so. But shouldn't you know that?"
"Ginovia, Fadago, Marne, they are all the same to me." He said sarcastically. "Men lose their lives to useless causes." Isabelle looked at him with pleasant surprise. "Oh, I am sorry, I didn't mean to…"
"It's quite all right. I feel the same way."
"You do?" A hint of curiosity slipped into his monotone voice.
"Oh yes. They spend money on weaponry, clothing, food, and such other frivolous things, while the people outside the palace walls starve. And they ignore it."
"My, my, you are quite outspoken for a lady." A glint came into his eye.
"Have I offended you in some way?"
"No, I am just surprised."
Before they could say anymore, the dance ended. The couple's hands fell by their sides, and William led Isabelle off the dance floor. Isabelle looked at him with a warm smile, but the curiosity he had on the dance floor left as quickly as it came. He seemed just as cold and bored as when they started to dance, and with a cold bow, he excused himself. The queen, however, seemed to want to get to know Isabelle. She crept up to the girl from behind once William had left and the King had retired.
"He is always like that." She said to Isabelle.
"Always what?"
"Impertinent. Cold. Rude."
"Really."
"Why, yes. But I saw you soften him up a bit on the dance floor, eh, Lady Mary?"
"I have not the slightest idea of what you speak."
The queen was slightly taken aback, but she sounded out a gay laugh after a moment.
"Simply you must. My son has never spoken that many words together in his life as he did on the floor with you."
"Your Majesty, I must say, we only spoke of such trivial topics as the weather."
"Of course, my dear, of course." The Queen passed her, and as she did, gave her a wink and a sneaky smile. Isabelle rolled her eyes and left the ballroom. She felt she needed some fresh air.
Once she was out in the garden, only then did she feel she could relax. The garden was a maze of bushes, neatly trimmed and manicured. Her shoes made a light slap as she walked on the sheet rock path that had an eerie sheen to it in the moonlight. She heard a small voice, someone alone. A man. She walked closer, attempting to locate the disembodied voice. It became louder, and Isabelle turned a corner to see Prince William, perched on a bench. He was talking to himself, muttering angrily about the ball.
"All those people…really they don't like me…status seeking social climbers…nothing but money…insipid…mind-numbing…and mother…'Oh, dance with this girl!'…'Oh, this girl is lovely!'…giggling bunch of ninnies…all they want is money and title…"
Isabelle watched him with fascination. He did not notice her, or at least was pretending not to. The way he spoke to himself, about the ball and such, she felt the exact same way. She felt as if she knew him from just listening to his tirade for two minutes. "…do I have real friend in this world? Do I truly? Or is everyone just nice to me because I'm a prince?…I'd rather be a beggar…I'd rather…"
Isabelle, after listening to him talk to himself for several more minutes, decided it best to leave him alone. She turned to go, but must have made too much noise, because William stopped talking. And before she could run off, he turned and looked straight at her.
"Lady Mary of Ginova." Isabelle whispered to the man at the door, using her first name. She was wearing her golden sun dress, with her strawberry blonde hair loose and cascading down her shoulders. The man announced her name, and she walked down the stairs. The guests at the ball seemed to stop dancing when her name was announced, for one because it was unfamiliar, and two, because she was from Ginovia, an enemy country.
Once they looked up at her, her origin was immediately forgotten. Her beauty silenced the entire room, which seemed to freeze for about thirty seconds. The music stopped and the guests gaped at the mysterious woman before them. The King and Queen sat with their mouths wide open, and the only person that seemed to be unaffected in the whole room was Prince William, who was yawning on his throne.
Isabelle was annoyed by the court's behavior. It was like this wherever she went. She sometimes wished she was plain, because that way people wouldn't stop and stare at her on the streets, and she wouldn't be judged by her beauty, but by who she was. She had yet to meet someone who didn't acknowledge her beauty and instead tried to find out what she was really like. Heck, her beauty was what caused everything. If she had been plainer, her father wouldn't have insisted on her marriage and she wouldn't have had to run away. She could be at home right now, reading with Angie…
Isabelle walked down the stairs and through the large ballroom. The crowd parted for her as she went down to the King and Queen's thrones. When she got there she bowed before them.
"Your majesty, King Robert and Queen Anna of Caputo, I have come from the Kingdom of Ginovia to escape the tyrannical King. I know our Kingdoms are enemies, but I beg of you that you do not banish me."
The Queen spoke, standing as she did so. "No child, of course not! You may stay here as long as you like."
"Yes, you may." The King chimed in. "Have you anywhere to stay?"
"Why, yes, am staying in an Inn on the edge of town."
"Oh, no, my dear! An inn? A young Lady like yourself is staying in an inn? Preposterous! I insist you stay with us."
"No, it is quite all right."
"But Lady Mary--"
"I assure you, Your Majesty, that I am fine where I am and I appreciate your hospitality."
"You are sure then?"
"Quite."
"Very well then. Lady Mary, I would like to introduce you to my son, Prince William."
"Your Grace." Isabelle curtseyed deeply. The Prince did not reply, but made a stiff bow and grumbled something.
"Music!" The King cried, and the lilting notes started up again.
"Lady Mary," The Queen spoke, "Would you like to dance with my son?"
William shot the Queen a shocked and angry look. She shot him back a do-as- you're-told-or-you'll-hear-it-from-me-later look.
"If your Grace wishes to." Isabelle didn't want to dance with a grouchy prince.
"No, then." He said, and turned towards the wall.
"William!" The Queen cried sharply. Even though it was one word it said a million things. Don't make a scene. Do what you're told. Don't mess with me. That was rude. Why slight such a beautiful lady?
"Fine." The Prince finally sighed, and turned towards her. He grabbed her hand awkwardly and led her onto the dance floor.
A new song started and William started to lead her. She could hear him quietly counting to himself with each turn. He didn't seem very happy to dance with her, paying her as much indifference as he did everyone else.
Isabelle had mixed feelings about his behavior. No one had treated her like everyone else. People had always had a high regard for her because of her looks. She felt slightly mad because of this, although she wouldn't admit it. She was displeased that he didn't notice her beauty. But at the same time she was strangely pleased that he didn't notice. That meant it didn't matter to him.
"One, two, three…" William quietly counted.
"Are you counting?" She asked, desperately trying to make conversation.
"What? Oh, yes." He said, losing count and stepping on her toes. "Sorry, Lady…"
"Mary. Lady Mary of Ginovia."
"Ginovia. It sounds familiar. Is my father at war with that kingdom?" His voice was monotone and the conversation seemed forced.
"I believe so. But shouldn't you know that?"
"Ginovia, Fadago, Marne, they are all the same to me." He said sarcastically. "Men lose their lives to useless causes." Isabelle looked at him with pleasant surprise. "Oh, I am sorry, I didn't mean to…"
"It's quite all right. I feel the same way."
"You do?" A hint of curiosity slipped into his monotone voice.
"Oh yes. They spend money on weaponry, clothing, food, and such other frivolous things, while the people outside the palace walls starve. And they ignore it."
"My, my, you are quite outspoken for a lady." A glint came into his eye.
"Have I offended you in some way?"
"No, I am just surprised."
Before they could say anymore, the dance ended. The couple's hands fell by their sides, and William led Isabelle off the dance floor. Isabelle looked at him with a warm smile, but the curiosity he had on the dance floor left as quickly as it came. He seemed just as cold and bored as when they started to dance, and with a cold bow, he excused himself. The queen, however, seemed to want to get to know Isabelle. She crept up to the girl from behind once William had left and the King had retired.
"He is always like that." She said to Isabelle.
"Always what?"
"Impertinent. Cold. Rude."
"Really."
"Why, yes. But I saw you soften him up a bit on the dance floor, eh, Lady Mary?"
"I have not the slightest idea of what you speak."
The queen was slightly taken aback, but she sounded out a gay laugh after a moment.
"Simply you must. My son has never spoken that many words together in his life as he did on the floor with you."
"Your Majesty, I must say, we only spoke of such trivial topics as the weather."
"Of course, my dear, of course." The Queen passed her, and as she did, gave her a wink and a sneaky smile. Isabelle rolled her eyes and left the ballroom. She felt she needed some fresh air.
Once she was out in the garden, only then did she feel she could relax. The garden was a maze of bushes, neatly trimmed and manicured. Her shoes made a light slap as she walked on the sheet rock path that had an eerie sheen to it in the moonlight. She heard a small voice, someone alone. A man. She walked closer, attempting to locate the disembodied voice. It became louder, and Isabelle turned a corner to see Prince William, perched on a bench. He was talking to himself, muttering angrily about the ball.
"All those people…really they don't like me…status seeking social climbers…nothing but money…insipid…mind-numbing…and mother…'Oh, dance with this girl!'…'Oh, this girl is lovely!'…giggling bunch of ninnies…all they want is money and title…"
Isabelle watched him with fascination. He did not notice her, or at least was pretending not to. The way he spoke to himself, about the ball and such, she felt the exact same way. She felt as if she knew him from just listening to his tirade for two minutes. "…do I have real friend in this world? Do I truly? Or is everyone just nice to me because I'm a prince?…I'd rather be a beggar…I'd rather…"
Isabelle, after listening to him talk to himself for several more minutes, decided it best to leave him alone. She turned to go, but must have made too much noise, because William stopped talking. And before she could run off, he turned and looked straight at her.