Flush your head down the latrine. Fill it up with sour cream. Fourteen.
Keep your mind off of it, Isabelle thought angrily as she prepared the late supper. She had hardly any time to prepare as William had kept her longer at the ball, and as a result couldn't change all the way. She just threw her cloak over her starry dress. She was growing fearful of William suspecting her. She did not want anything to happen to draw attention to herself.
Look at you, she told herself, you go to a ball for one night for fun and look what you've gotten yourself into. You've fallen in love with a prince, and made whole mess of things.
"I always do that." She said out loud, wiping away a tear, "I always make a mess of things." Her life back home. Her father. The balls. William. The food- "The food!" Isabelle cried. But the supper was, yet again, gone. She wanted to slap herself-with the brooch in the soup! The last treasure Angie had given her-still in the soup!
Isabelle slapped herself on the forehead as she tore up the stairs to stop the servant. In vain; for she watched for a third time as the dish was served. Isabelle felt like she was beginning to repeat herself one too many times. You thought I would have learned the first time, she thought angrily, mentally slapping herself a few more times.
*~~*
"Mother, she obviously doesn't feel the same way. Will you please drop the subject?"
William wanted to cry, to get away from his mother. He couldn't endure her constant talk of Isabelle. Didn't she understand his plight? Why would she not shut up about it? Every time her name was mentioned it was a stab to his heart.
"I don't see why she ran off, William, I just don't. You're such a nice boy; I can't see why she would run off like that."
"Mother! Please! Stop this!" William yelled as late supper was placed in front of him. He stared at his reflection in the soup for a moment.
This is you, William thought, not good enough, not for Isabelle, not for anyone.
"I just don't get it. Maybe she went to freshen up."
"Mother!" William yelled, and on an impulse, threw his soup across the room. The bowl hit the wall with a terrific clatter, and fell to the floor unhurt, as the dish was tin. Soup dripped down the wall. William noticed that the bowl was not the only object made of metal in his dinner.
Getting up, he walked across the hall to where he had hurled the bowl, now feeling rather sheepish for doing so. He bent down and picked up a brooch, covered with bits of vegetable and meat. He turned and ran back to the table. He slammed the piece of jewelry on the linen white tablecloth. Drops of red soup splattered it; no one noticed.
"Look!" he cried, "Look at this!" he pointed at the brooch and turned back towards the kitchen, yelling at a servant. "Bring me cat-skin here, straight away!"
The servant skittered away under William's booming voice. Cat-skin.cat- skin! William remembered now his suspicions. Whenever he looked at that servant-girl, she reminded him of god knows who. He couldn't place his finger on it. He turned back to face cat-skin when they had managed to drag her up.
"We meet again, cat-skin." William said sharply s Cat-skin bowed, and then stood, looking rather fearful. "Did you place this in my soup?" he held up the golden brooch. Cat-skin stared at it with fear.
"N-no, your majesty."
"Don't lie." He said sharply. "This is the third time this has happened. Now tell me, did you put this brooch in the soup, or not?"
*~~*
Isabelle was at an impasse. She could either tell William everything, tell him something, or lie, but any way something had to give. She said nothing; she just stood there, silent. William came up to her, so close his nose was almost touching her.
"I know you." William said slowly, "Who are you?"
"No-no one of consequence, your majesty." She stuttered. "Just a simple kitchen girl."
"I will ask you once again, and please tell me the truth, WHO ARE YOU?" William shouted angrily.
"No one of consequence sir!" Isabelle again shouted, her voice trembling with fear and sadness.
"You are just cat-skin."
"Aye."
"Of no consequence."
"Yes, your majesty."
"Alright then." William sighed a terribly sad sigh, then turned away from her. Isabelle could feel his grief, for she felt it too. On an impulse, she fell to her knees and began to sob harshly. The King and Queen looked on with confusion at the servant girl and their son. William was sobbing lightly, head in his hands, while behind him Isabelle wailed vehemently. Then Isabelle got up slowly, and turned to leave.
Suddenly, William stopped crying, and turned to see the retreating figure of Isabelle.
"Isabelle!" he cried. Isabelle stopped and turned automatically to the call.
*~~*
At that moment, William knew for sure it was her. Cat-skin, and the enigmatic Lady Mary Isabelle, were one and the same. He threw off his crown and ran towards Isabelle. Isabelle looked nervous and upset, but he could see through all of the dirt and grime that is was her.
"Isabelle!" he cried again, and walked to her, then pulling at her coat. She let him do so, and it fell to the ground, revealing the starry dress Isabella had been wearing only hours before at the ball.
At last, William had found her.
"Isabelle!" he cried. He hugged her close. "Why did you not tell me?"
"I-I don't know." Isabelle sobbed, holding William back. "I was frightened."
"I am never letting you go again." William said, holding Isabelle out to look at her. Her tears ran down her cheeks, wiping away the dirt and grime. William pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the rest away.
The King and Queen stood up and ran to the couple. The Queen was, of course, already planning the wedding, and the King was for once out of his drunken stupor, congratulating his son and daughter-in-law. The rest is, of course, happily ever after, Isabelle and William sitting on the stone bench in front of William's solitary pond.
"William, dear, will you promise me something?" Isabelle is often heard asking her husband.
"What is it?" He will ask lovingly back, stroking the baby girl in her arms.
"Please never try to marry our daughter."
"Of course, dearest."
*~~*
THE END!!! Awwwww. Was that an OK ending? I was unsure of how to end it. Anywhoo, replies to reviews.
Impules_k9-I guess William "grumbled his proposal" because he was really shy.
Shrouded Spirits-Sorry it took so long for the next chappie. Your review made me hungry.
Eclipsa-He knew she was Isabelle. She told him to call her that in an earlier chappie, though I can't remember which one.
Mischief Mayhem and Chaos-Hahaha. Reviews are better when you read along as you review.
Fluffy the Teddy Bear Slayer-Thanks for the pointer. I'll try and fix that.
Moonchild-Ooo! I am quite glad you like my story. I am grateful to receive praise from the author of my favorite fanfiction story.
Also thanks to mooncancer, zumamoonlight, Ying, Silverstar, naavi, and kitty. You guys are great! Sorry for the awful delay! School sucks.
Keep your mind off of it, Isabelle thought angrily as she prepared the late supper. She had hardly any time to prepare as William had kept her longer at the ball, and as a result couldn't change all the way. She just threw her cloak over her starry dress. She was growing fearful of William suspecting her. She did not want anything to happen to draw attention to herself.
Look at you, she told herself, you go to a ball for one night for fun and look what you've gotten yourself into. You've fallen in love with a prince, and made whole mess of things.
"I always do that." She said out loud, wiping away a tear, "I always make a mess of things." Her life back home. Her father. The balls. William. The food- "The food!" Isabelle cried. But the supper was, yet again, gone. She wanted to slap herself-with the brooch in the soup! The last treasure Angie had given her-still in the soup!
Isabelle slapped herself on the forehead as she tore up the stairs to stop the servant. In vain; for she watched for a third time as the dish was served. Isabelle felt like she was beginning to repeat herself one too many times. You thought I would have learned the first time, she thought angrily, mentally slapping herself a few more times.
*~~*
"Mother, she obviously doesn't feel the same way. Will you please drop the subject?"
William wanted to cry, to get away from his mother. He couldn't endure her constant talk of Isabelle. Didn't she understand his plight? Why would she not shut up about it? Every time her name was mentioned it was a stab to his heart.
"I don't see why she ran off, William, I just don't. You're such a nice boy; I can't see why she would run off like that."
"Mother! Please! Stop this!" William yelled as late supper was placed in front of him. He stared at his reflection in the soup for a moment.
This is you, William thought, not good enough, not for Isabelle, not for anyone.
"I just don't get it. Maybe she went to freshen up."
"Mother!" William yelled, and on an impulse, threw his soup across the room. The bowl hit the wall with a terrific clatter, and fell to the floor unhurt, as the dish was tin. Soup dripped down the wall. William noticed that the bowl was not the only object made of metal in his dinner.
Getting up, he walked across the hall to where he had hurled the bowl, now feeling rather sheepish for doing so. He bent down and picked up a brooch, covered with bits of vegetable and meat. He turned and ran back to the table. He slammed the piece of jewelry on the linen white tablecloth. Drops of red soup splattered it; no one noticed.
"Look!" he cried, "Look at this!" he pointed at the brooch and turned back towards the kitchen, yelling at a servant. "Bring me cat-skin here, straight away!"
The servant skittered away under William's booming voice. Cat-skin.cat- skin! William remembered now his suspicions. Whenever he looked at that servant-girl, she reminded him of god knows who. He couldn't place his finger on it. He turned back to face cat-skin when they had managed to drag her up.
"We meet again, cat-skin." William said sharply s Cat-skin bowed, and then stood, looking rather fearful. "Did you place this in my soup?" he held up the golden brooch. Cat-skin stared at it with fear.
"N-no, your majesty."
"Don't lie." He said sharply. "This is the third time this has happened. Now tell me, did you put this brooch in the soup, or not?"
*~~*
Isabelle was at an impasse. She could either tell William everything, tell him something, or lie, but any way something had to give. She said nothing; she just stood there, silent. William came up to her, so close his nose was almost touching her.
"I know you." William said slowly, "Who are you?"
"No-no one of consequence, your majesty." She stuttered. "Just a simple kitchen girl."
"I will ask you once again, and please tell me the truth, WHO ARE YOU?" William shouted angrily.
"No one of consequence sir!" Isabelle again shouted, her voice trembling with fear and sadness.
"You are just cat-skin."
"Aye."
"Of no consequence."
"Yes, your majesty."
"Alright then." William sighed a terribly sad sigh, then turned away from her. Isabelle could feel his grief, for she felt it too. On an impulse, she fell to her knees and began to sob harshly. The King and Queen looked on with confusion at the servant girl and their son. William was sobbing lightly, head in his hands, while behind him Isabelle wailed vehemently. Then Isabelle got up slowly, and turned to leave.
Suddenly, William stopped crying, and turned to see the retreating figure of Isabelle.
"Isabelle!" he cried. Isabelle stopped and turned automatically to the call.
*~~*
At that moment, William knew for sure it was her. Cat-skin, and the enigmatic Lady Mary Isabelle, were one and the same. He threw off his crown and ran towards Isabelle. Isabelle looked nervous and upset, but he could see through all of the dirt and grime that is was her.
"Isabelle!" he cried again, and walked to her, then pulling at her coat. She let him do so, and it fell to the ground, revealing the starry dress Isabella had been wearing only hours before at the ball.
At last, William had found her.
"Isabelle!" he cried. He hugged her close. "Why did you not tell me?"
"I-I don't know." Isabelle sobbed, holding William back. "I was frightened."
"I am never letting you go again." William said, holding Isabelle out to look at her. Her tears ran down her cheeks, wiping away the dirt and grime. William pulled out a handkerchief and wiped the rest away.
The King and Queen stood up and ran to the couple. The Queen was, of course, already planning the wedding, and the King was for once out of his drunken stupor, congratulating his son and daughter-in-law. The rest is, of course, happily ever after, Isabelle and William sitting on the stone bench in front of William's solitary pond.
"William, dear, will you promise me something?" Isabelle is often heard asking her husband.
"What is it?" He will ask lovingly back, stroking the baby girl in her arms.
"Please never try to marry our daughter."
"Of course, dearest."
*~~*
THE END!!! Awwwww. Was that an OK ending? I was unsure of how to end it. Anywhoo, replies to reviews.
Impules_k9-I guess William "grumbled his proposal" because he was really shy.
Shrouded Spirits-Sorry it took so long for the next chappie. Your review made me hungry.
Eclipsa-He knew she was Isabelle. She told him to call her that in an earlier chappie, though I can't remember which one.
Mischief Mayhem and Chaos-Hahaha. Reviews are better when you read along as you review.
Fluffy the Teddy Bear Slayer-Thanks for the pointer. I'll try and fix that.
Moonchild-Ooo! I am quite glad you like my story. I am grateful to receive praise from the author of my favorite fanfiction story.
Also thanks to mooncancer, zumamoonlight, Ying, Silverstar, naavi, and kitty. You guys are great! Sorry for the awful delay! School sucks.