Don't know much about Martin Sheen, it's now time for chapter thirteen!
"One last ball, mother, that is all! And if she gets away, so be it!" William cried to his mother the next day, when she proposed holding yet another ball, hoping the elusive Lady Mary would come and this time be kept there through tactical maneuvers. (Though in saying this she had no idea what she meant.)
The Queen then surprisingly left William alone, no doubt to go order wedding flowers. William needed solitude-he needed to go to his pond and reflect on the past few weeks' events.
He walked without interruption to his little ruminating pond. He plopped down on the bench, pulled off his heavy crown in the customary manner, and eyed his refection in the glass-smooth water. He then propped his head in his hands and tried to piece together lady Mary's mystery.
*~~*
Isabelle slid through her kitchen work with a happy air. Eliza scowled at her more than once, and Isabelle just smiled back. Now that she admitted she might love William, she felt a weight off her shoulders, odd, she knew. Admitting things to herself was a load off, she thought happily.
She smiled as she served John and Charles at breakfast that day. They both winked at different times to Isabelle, and she winked back. It was also a load off telling a few people your secrets, she also thought decidedly. The king was in his usual drunken morning stupor, the queen was talking about another ball to be held in a week, and the Prince was as usual staring at Isabelle with unnerving disturbance. She, for once, smiled widely back. William's expression changed, and he looked at her as if he was trying to decipher her. Isabelle was startled by this and walked back to John and Charles, who were emptying their plates.
"I hear there's another ball to be held." Charles said casually, half to John and half to Isabelle.
"Yes, another one. The royals are trying to find out exactly who this Lady Mary is." John stressed the Lady Mary part. Isabelle blushed guiltily and left, thought her mind was not off the ball. She was weighing the options of whether to go or not. She knew she wouldn't be able to be as comfortable around William now that she knew she loved him. She would get all goose- bumpy and shiver but sweat at the same time.
But then again, she did love him. And it was another chance to see him.
*~~*
Isabelle had been working in the kitchens for so long she was now used to it. She never had any trouble baking, and had gotten used to the disdain of Eliza, though she did attract a bit of curious attention from servants trying to catch a glimpse of the girl who had tried to kill the Prince twice with her little pieces of gold jewelry.
The third ball was to be held in two days. Isabelle sat in front of a pot of soup and considered whether she should go or not. (Probably, you're thinking right now, 'Go Isabelle! You love him! He loves you! What reason is there not to go?' but for actually experiencing it it's a lot harder to decide. Anyway, Isabelle didn't know that William loved her.)
After a day of deliberation, Isabelle decided to go and make of it what she could. She would go and have a fun time with John and Charles and maybe even William. Anyway, she only had one dress left, the starry one. She nodded happily, stirring the hot thick liquid.
She thought about William a second and stopped the stirring. Now that she knew she loved him things might be different. She might not be able to talk to him like she did. And she would never be able to act the same. Just thinking about it made her stomach churn. Maybe she shouldn't go. But she might hurt William's feelings if she didn't. After all, if nothing she valued her friendship with him, even if he didn't love her. It's just that things might be different, she told herself, especially after he kissed me.
I'll decide later, she thought pensively, starting to stir the soup again.
But what about when he almost threw me in the dungeons? That wasn't like William, in fact, it was very mean, she thought. I was highly displeased by that.
But I love him.
But...
Oh, but, but, Isabelle scolded herself. Quit deliberating and just go.
*~~*
By now it was routine. Isabelle asked for the time off, snuck to her room, and changed into her starry dress, telling herself not to forget to get back to make the prince's supper. For once she wished the Prince wouldn't have his late supper but it seemed somewhat of a habit. She pulled back her hair loosely, nodded at her reflection, and left the room.
The ball was in full swing by the time she got there. She decided not to sneak in incognito like last time, but to just enter, even if it meant being barraged by the Queen and other ball guests. Of course, everyone knew what the balls were being held for. For her. She breathed a breath of nervousness and entered the hall, whispering her name to the announcer.
"Lady Mary of Ginovia."
The room stopped. The guests froze; the musicians stopped playing. All eyes were on her. Everyone agreed she never looked more beautiful than she did in her lovely starry dress. Her breaths were short and tense. William slowly walked to her and held out his hand.
"I hoped you would come." He said tenderly, as she took his outstretched palm. "Play on." He yelled to the musicians, and the music stared back up. The guests began to dance again, but still all eyes seemed to be on Isabelle. She was already nervous enough being around the man she was in love with, without everyone staring at her. She caught a glimpse of John and Charles, who both waved. She smiled back as William awkwardly guided her across the floor.
The two danced for hours, but neither seemed to get tired or stop. The queen was getting impatient to talk to Isabelle and William, but they kept on dancing. William never said a word.
"What's wrong?" She asked.
"What? Oh, nothing."
"You aren't talking at all. Are you ill?"
"I suppose you're going to run away at midnight again." William said darkly, eyeing Isabelle. She felt nervous, like all the other times he had stared her down. She glanced at the clock. It was seven minutes until midnight. Guests were leaving. Few were left. Isabelle nodded in reply.
"Why do you run away like that?"
"I can't tell you."
"Why not?"
"I-I just can't." Isabelle felt tears forming in her eyes. Five minutes.
"Before you run off, maybe forever, I want to tell you something."
"Yes?" Isabelle pushed back her tears.
"Listen, my parents want me to get married more than anything. And they want me to marry you." Isabelle looked past William, immediately uncomfortable by the situation. "Wait a moment, Isabelle, hear me out." She looked at his face, but not into his eyes. She looked at his chin. "Now, I know one day I will have to get married, but I couldn't imagine marrying anyone but you." Three minutes.
"William--"
"Wait. Really, Isabelle, there is no one else I could stand to be with. Most girls are all giggly and all they want is to get married. I'd be a trophy husband, and I'd hate it. You're the only person I could marry- you're the only person I really love."
He seemed to speak in a grumbly tone, almost like a little boy asking a girl to dance. He looked at the ground and spoke very fast, and he as well tried not to look at Isabelle.
Isabelle's thoughts raced. She did love William-of that she was sure-but should she say yes? She didn't exactly love the thought of having the Queen as her mother and law-plus what if her father found out she had married the prince? Her kingdoms were already rivals to begin with. (Two minutes.) And William didn't know of her whole episode back in Ginovia with her father- she didn't want to get married keeping secrets, and she didn't want William to find out from someone else. But she didn't want to tell William. She could tell John and Charles, but for some unfathomable reason she couldn't tell William. Perhaps she wasn't ready.
Her thoughts were interrupted when the clock stuck twelve. Isabelle tried to pull away from William, but he kept whirling her around the floor. Isabelle was getting tired.
"I will let you go when the song ends." William said. "Please tell me of you love me or not."
"Let me go." Isabella cried. The tears flooded down her cheeks. It was five past. "The ball is over. You have your supper to get to."
William stopped.
"How did you know about my late supper?" He asked incredulously. Isabelle took hold of the moment and ran towards the exit, but not before seeing William's face. Isabelle feared he knew.
Sorry it took so long of this chapter, but you know how dry spells go!
Zumamoonlight- I know it was mean when William said "Take her away!" maybe it was a bit too harsh. I made it dramatic and suspenseful at the expense of making William look bad.
Shrouded Spirit-I think Bootleggers of on hiatus for a while. I'll start it up again soon.
Elle-No, I am not a blonde. But, as fairy tales go, in the original cat- skin she had blonde hair. Anyway, I think Isabelle is better with blonde hair. This is what I think: Blonde hair was kind of a symbol of beauty for so long it became a cliché. Then they switched it to brown. But now I think they used brown hair too much and now THAT'S a cliché. (Not that there's anything wrong with either.) Thank you for enduring my rant.
Denial-I always thought this took place in the 1500's of 1600's when they had guns.
Silver Star-You don't remember John and Charles? They were the ones who originally found Isabelle and got her the job as the maid in the first place.
Also thanks to Mischief, mayhem and Chaos, Blazing-moon, and naavi.
And don't worry; my dry spell is over. It's almost all done; I'll post the last chapter soon!
"One last ball, mother, that is all! And if she gets away, so be it!" William cried to his mother the next day, when she proposed holding yet another ball, hoping the elusive Lady Mary would come and this time be kept there through tactical maneuvers. (Though in saying this she had no idea what she meant.)
The Queen then surprisingly left William alone, no doubt to go order wedding flowers. William needed solitude-he needed to go to his pond and reflect on the past few weeks' events.
He walked without interruption to his little ruminating pond. He plopped down on the bench, pulled off his heavy crown in the customary manner, and eyed his refection in the glass-smooth water. He then propped his head in his hands and tried to piece together lady Mary's mystery.
*~~*
Isabelle slid through her kitchen work with a happy air. Eliza scowled at her more than once, and Isabelle just smiled back. Now that she admitted she might love William, she felt a weight off her shoulders, odd, she knew. Admitting things to herself was a load off, she thought happily.
She smiled as she served John and Charles at breakfast that day. They both winked at different times to Isabelle, and she winked back. It was also a load off telling a few people your secrets, she also thought decidedly. The king was in his usual drunken morning stupor, the queen was talking about another ball to be held in a week, and the Prince was as usual staring at Isabelle with unnerving disturbance. She, for once, smiled widely back. William's expression changed, and he looked at her as if he was trying to decipher her. Isabelle was startled by this and walked back to John and Charles, who were emptying their plates.
"I hear there's another ball to be held." Charles said casually, half to John and half to Isabelle.
"Yes, another one. The royals are trying to find out exactly who this Lady Mary is." John stressed the Lady Mary part. Isabelle blushed guiltily and left, thought her mind was not off the ball. She was weighing the options of whether to go or not. She knew she wouldn't be able to be as comfortable around William now that she knew she loved him. She would get all goose- bumpy and shiver but sweat at the same time.
But then again, she did love him. And it was another chance to see him.
*~~*
Isabelle had been working in the kitchens for so long she was now used to it. She never had any trouble baking, and had gotten used to the disdain of Eliza, though she did attract a bit of curious attention from servants trying to catch a glimpse of the girl who had tried to kill the Prince twice with her little pieces of gold jewelry.
The third ball was to be held in two days. Isabelle sat in front of a pot of soup and considered whether she should go or not. (Probably, you're thinking right now, 'Go Isabelle! You love him! He loves you! What reason is there not to go?' but for actually experiencing it it's a lot harder to decide. Anyway, Isabelle didn't know that William loved her.)
After a day of deliberation, Isabelle decided to go and make of it what she could. She would go and have a fun time with John and Charles and maybe even William. Anyway, she only had one dress left, the starry one. She nodded happily, stirring the hot thick liquid.
She thought about William a second and stopped the stirring. Now that she knew she loved him things might be different. She might not be able to talk to him like she did. And she would never be able to act the same. Just thinking about it made her stomach churn. Maybe she shouldn't go. But she might hurt William's feelings if she didn't. After all, if nothing she valued her friendship with him, even if he didn't love her. It's just that things might be different, she told herself, especially after he kissed me.
I'll decide later, she thought pensively, starting to stir the soup again.
But what about when he almost threw me in the dungeons? That wasn't like William, in fact, it was very mean, she thought. I was highly displeased by that.
But I love him.
But...
Oh, but, but, Isabelle scolded herself. Quit deliberating and just go.
*~~*
By now it was routine. Isabelle asked for the time off, snuck to her room, and changed into her starry dress, telling herself not to forget to get back to make the prince's supper. For once she wished the Prince wouldn't have his late supper but it seemed somewhat of a habit. She pulled back her hair loosely, nodded at her reflection, and left the room.
The ball was in full swing by the time she got there. She decided not to sneak in incognito like last time, but to just enter, even if it meant being barraged by the Queen and other ball guests. Of course, everyone knew what the balls were being held for. For her. She breathed a breath of nervousness and entered the hall, whispering her name to the announcer.
"Lady Mary of Ginovia."
The room stopped. The guests froze; the musicians stopped playing. All eyes were on her. Everyone agreed she never looked more beautiful than she did in her lovely starry dress. Her breaths were short and tense. William slowly walked to her and held out his hand.
"I hoped you would come." He said tenderly, as she took his outstretched palm. "Play on." He yelled to the musicians, and the music stared back up. The guests began to dance again, but still all eyes seemed to be on Isabelle. She was already nervous enough being around the man she was in love with, without everyone staring at her. She caught a glimpse of John and Charles, who both waved. She smiled back as William awkwardly guided her across the floor.
The two danced for hours, but neither seemed to get tired or stop. The queen was getting impatient to talk to Isabelle and William, but they kept on dancing. William never said a word.
"What's wrong?" She asked.
"What? Oh, nothing."
"You aren't talking at all. Are you ill?"
"I suppose you're going to run away at midnight again." William said darkly, eyeing Isabelle. She felt nervous, like all the other times he had stared her down. She glanced at the clock. It was seven minutes until midnight. Guests were leaving. Few were left. Isabelle nodded in reply.
"Why do you run away like that?"
"I can't tell you."
"Why not?"
"I-I just can't." Isabelle felt tears forming in her eyes. Five minutes.
"Before you run off, maybe forever, I want to tell you something."
"Yes?" Isabelle pushed back her tears.
"Listen, my parents want me to get married more than anything. And they want me to marry you." Isabelle looked past William, immediately uncomfortable by the situation. "Wait a moment, Isabelle, hear me out." She looked at his face, but not into his eyes. She looked at his chin. "Now, I know one day I will have to get married, but I couldn't imagine marrying anyone but you." Three minutes.
"William--"
"Wait. Really, Isabelle, there is no one else I could stand to be with. Most girls are all giggly and all they want is to get married. I'd be a trophy husband, and I'd hate it. You're the only person I could marry- you're the only person I really love."
He seemed to speak in a grumbly tone, almost like a little boy asking a girl to dance. He looked at the ground and spoke very fast, and he as well tried not to look at Isabelle.
Isabelle's thoughts raced. She did love William-of that she was sure-but should she say yes? She didn't exactly love the thought of having the Queen as her mother and law-plus what if her father found out she had married the prince? Her kingdoms were already rivals to begin with. (Two minutes.) And William didn't know of her whole episode back in Ginovia with her father- she didn't want to get married keeping secrets, and she didn't want William to find out from someone else. But she didn't want to tell William. She could tell John and Charles, but for some unfathomable reason she couldn't tell William. Perhaps she wasn't ready.
Her thoughts were interrupted when the clock stuck twelve. Isabelle tried to pull away from William, but he kept whirling her around the floor. Isabelle was getting tired.
"I will let you go when the song ends." William said. "Please tell me of you love me or not."
"Let me go." Isabella cried. The tears flooded down her cheeks. It was five past. "The ball is over. You have your supper to get to."
William stopped.
"How did you know about my late supper?" He asked incredulously. Isabelle took hold of the moment and ran towards the exit, but not before seeing William's face. Isabelle feared he knew.
Sorry it took so long of this chapter, but you know how dry spells go!
Zumamoonlight- I know it was mean when William said "Take her away!" maybe it was a bit too harsh. I made it dramatic and suspenseful at the expense of making William look bad.
Shrouded Spirit-I think Bootleggers of on hiatus for a while. I'll start it up again soon.
Elle-No, I am not a blonde. But, as fairy tales go, in the original cat- skin she had blonde hair. Anyway, I think Isabelle is better with blonde hair. This is what I think: Blonde hair was kind of a symbol of beauty for so long it became a cliché. Then they switched it to brown. But now I think they used brown hair too much and now THAT'S a cliché. (Not that there's anything wrong with either.) Thank you for enduring my rant.
Denial-I always thought this took place in the 1500's of 1600's when they had guns.
Silver Star-You don't remember John and Charles? They were the ones who originally found Isabelle and got her the job as the maid in the first place.
Also thanks to Mischief, mayhem and Chaos, Blazing-moon, and naavi.
And don't worry; my dry spell is over. It's almost all done; I'll post the last chapter soon!