The
Secret of Char: Chapter One
Promptly at seven o'clock the
next evening, Simon made an appearance at the banquet. He had been
shoved into a tight blue new velvet doublet, tailored specifically to
flaunt his muscular build. Simon stepped down lightly at the top of
the staircase and gripped the long banister. He had an urge to slide
down it. It was one of the few things he shared with Char; the
midnight rides.
"But of course I had to pretend to be
regal and majestic," he thought, containing the childish urges and
he made an august enterance.
From atop the stairs Simon
surveyed the room and began reflecting on what he saw in his
subjects. All intellectually poor, weak- minded citizens. None have
the ability to think for themselves. They all were brainwashed copies
of each other. The ladies, trying to keep up with the latest
fashions, were afraid to create their own. The men socialized with
the power, craving the same authority but afraid to snatch it for
themselves
Yet again Simon feared complete boredom. He
aimlessly began strolling through the ballroom. The banquets his
"mother" was so fond of throwing were not entertaining. The only
hope for amuseument was withdrawing into his own brain, drawing
tactics to use in the future. Plans on how to take over a kingdom,
plans dealing with women, with laws, with international diplomacy.
Planning ahead had given Simon all that he now lay claim to—planning
ahead is how he was able to kill Prince Charmont.
Simon
briskly walk down the long stairs, nodding and saluting people as
often as courtesy demanded. Halfway down the stairs he froze. The
double doors of the palace opened and an icy breath from the snow and
wintry outdoors crept over the hall. Yet Simon ignored the change in
temperature. A different reaction seized his body. A woman entered
and looked around in momentary confusion. She was beautiful with
tight brown curls and deep brown eyes. Simon knew right then and
there he would win her over. He paused for a moment and watched the
woman, observing everything about her. A plan was forming in his
mind.
Instantaneously, Simon was moving again, striding
quickly off the stairs, his eyes following the woman. As soon as
Simon was off the stairs he slowed his pace. Mingled a bit, but his
eyes followed her the whole time.
"Hello Charmont,"
squecked a sharp, piercing voice in his left ear. MY NAME IS SIMON!
He bit back a scream and turned around with a charming smile, worthy
of his late cousin.
"Good
evening," Simon responded in an overly cheerful voice. Grimacing
inwardly, he saw it was the Duchess of Banda and her three terrible
daughters. "How are you enjoying the banquet, Lady Grace?"
The
woman and her daughters twittered with laughter, "Oh, it's just
delightful," she chippered, "Have I introduced you to my
daughters? Oh my! I haven't. You're the same age I believe," she
fluttered her eyelashes flirtatiously.
"Yes, I've met
your daughters Grace; their names are Carmen, Ebony and Rose. Carmen
is 17 and likes golf. She likes her tea with lemon and doesn't posses
a personality. Ebony is 15 and a half and has the largest hat
collection known to man. She owns over 3000 hats and wigs of varying
styles, probably because she's bald. Rose is your youngest daughter,
only 13 and pure as anything. She likes to sew and knit. She does not
have the ability to string together more then 4 words at a
time."
But of course Simon didn't say that. Char would
never have said that. He would have said something disgusting like
"It is my honor to breath their air. May I lick your
boots?'
"Really Madame? I believe we have meet once or
twice," Simon drawled, bowing courteously. He would only tell
her what she wanted to hear.
"Oh, well, Rose and Ebony,"
she said waving them away, "And this, this is my precious
Carmen," So this is the marriage bait, "Carmen is
practically your age, your highness!"
"How nice,"
he say, politely. He was still watching the brunette woman over my
shoulder. She was speaking to a group of ladies with oversized
hats.
"She enjoys golf and horseback riding," Simon
heard the Duchess saying. "Perhaps you would be so kind as to
join her riding one afternoon," Carmen tossed her long blonde
hair carelessly over her shoulder and smiled. Wench.
"That
sounds nice. I'm sorry, but please excuse me,"
"Oh,"
Grace seems to be aback taken, "Yes, I'm sure you have other
guests to attend to."
"I do indeed, good night
ladies," Simon walked off without a backward glance and strode
straight for his target and source of gossip, the old servant
Riley.
"Evening, your Highness," greeted Riley as he
stood stiffly against a wall.
"Evening Riley," Simon
said. "I need information,"
The old servant was used
to this. He grinned. "Who?"
"The woman over by
the statue,"
"The one with the moustache?"
"NO!"
Simon snickered, "The one with the brown curls,"
"Ah,"
the old servant sighed. "Lady Eleanor of Frell,"
"Age?"
"29,"
says Riley, "She's married to the merchant, Sir Peter."
"Is
she now, that makes it all the more fun," Simon said with a grin
as evil little thoughts danced in his head.
"She's got a
13 year old daughter," says Riley.
"A 13 year old?"
He gasped, "When did that happen?"
"She was
married to Peter when she was 16, and had the girl in the same
year,"
"So is that why I've never seen her
around?"
"Most likely," says Riley causally,
"You're up to no good, aren't you?"
"Perhaps,"
He was up to no good. And Riley knew it.
"She's twice
your age!" he cried, shocked.
"She's 29, I'm 18.
Only a 14-year difference Riley. You know, I have a thing for older
women..."
The old servant nodded. "So do I."
He
looked him over, silently appraising the sort of women this elderly
servant would go for. "How much older?"
Riley
chuckled, "Go get her,"
He left the servant. The
idea of an older woman, married and with a child almost his age. it
was disgusting and exciting. Wicked. Almost incestuous.
He had
to plan his every move. Casually lingering in her direction.
"Accidentally" knocking in to her.
"Oh!"
Simon exclaimed when he "knocked into" her. "I'm
sorry,"
"Don't worry," she said smiling, "It
isn't a problem, your Highness," she smiled.
He looked
at her for a long while.
Her smile fades a minute. Thousands
of cheap pick-up lines flooded his thoughts. He decide to stick to
the basics, "You look like someone I know," My first wife,
Simon thought rougely, imagining the flush that would cause across
her girlish face.
"Really?" she said, crossing her
arms over her chest, "I don't believe I've ever meet you before,
Prince Charmont,"
"Char," Simon pleaded,
letting his cousin's name roll off his tongue. "Call me Char,
please."
"I don't believe I've ever meet you before.
Char," Eleanor eyed him suspiciously.
"Thank you,"
Simon said, "But I think we have meet, Lady Eleanor,"
She
was startled, "How do you know my name?"
Simon smile
dashingly, showing off his brilliant teeth.. "How do you know
mine?" She smiled and laughed. He joined in her musical
laugh.
"Dinner is served!" anounnced the
herald.
"Would you care to join me?" he asked
politely, holding out my arm. She smiled and hesitated. Thoughts of
her husband, Simon supposed. She's trying to decide if it was proper.
Simon knew he'd have to make my offer irresistible. "Please, I
would love the honor of having you as my dinner partner, Lady."
He looked at her with puppy-dog eyes.
"Alright," she
said, taking his arm.
Simon lead her up to the head of the
table and set her at his right. Of course Duchess Grace and her
daughters sneered.
As everyone sat down Simon whispered to
her, "Now, there will be several long winded speeches by several
pompous old men."
"Truly?" she asked, giggling
slightly.
"Indeed," he nodded. "We shall all
sit here, smelling the aroma of food as we hungrily wait for the
speeches to end."
She giggles, "So there's no
escaping it?"
"Do you want to escape it?" he
ask with sudden intensity that startled him.
"I..."
she stuttered in surprise, "I wonder, highness," she
commented in clumsily recovery, "Why do you take interest in
me?"
"I've heard of your beauty," he said..
Aren't I charming? Simon thought to himself. A perfect little
brainwashed Char. She blushed. How nice.
"Honestly
highness, you bluff. Tell me truly, or I shall leave," she says
with a smile.
"No," he smiled, "It shall be my
mystery for the evening." Eleanor laughed at his comment, hiding
her face under her napkin.
"Really?" she asked
coquettishly.
"You might ask what about next evening..."he
drawled quietly, winking at her.
She laughed again. Her music
sounded like little children chasing a kitten. "Fine."
She
took the blue napkins next to her plate and shakes it out defiantly.
A hush fell over the hall. The High Chancellor Thomas had got up to
speak. He's a boring man who would gladly see Simon dead-with his
death he would be King Thomas. They'd had quiet a few spats over
conflicts of interest.
"Today, is a day, like any other
day," he began to drone, "But, it's also a day, when things
happen..."
Simon, already disgusted, turned and faced his
attention fully on Eleanor. She was slowly shredding her blue napkin
into strips.
"What are you doing?" He mouthed,
puzzled..
She put a finger to her lips. Simon watched her in
curiosity. She had taken her pieces of the napkin and began to move
them to what appeared to be a face.
The face began to take the
shape of the pompous Chancellor. She grinned and Simon began to
chuckle.
".. And so it is that two things are happening.
We celebrate the birth of our great Prince Charmont but we mourn.
Mourn the death of the Duke Simon. Cousin and close friend to the
royal family." Lady Eleanor is stabbing madly away at the napkin
person now. Simon couldn't contain himself.. Whether it was the site
of a 30-year-old woman playing with napkins or the remarks the
Chancellor was making about him, the irony of everything came out.
Simon started laughing.
He tried to control it, but he
couldn't help it.
A few people around him noticed and looked
away. The giggles turned into hearty laugh and before long.
well..
Simon quickly got up and left the room. The Great Hall
was deserted. He collapsed into fits of giggles.
It echoed
across the empty room. Fearing the noise will travel back into the
Dinning Room, he slipped out of double doors.
Once out there
Simon laughed until he couldn't move. But a thought crossed his mind:
"I have lost my only chance with Lady Eleanor".
The
door creaked open.
Maybe not.
"Char?"
"Hello,"
he said, still snickering, "What are you doing out
here?"
"Being rude and disrespectful too," she
said with a grin
Simon couldn't fight it any longer. He
grabbed her and kissed her. And she didn't fight back. They kissed
for several long moments.
"Lady, I." Simon finally
blurted out. "I didn't know how to tell you this but."
"But
what?" she whispered seductively. "I like that wagon you're
dragging." She looked at me oddly and Simon sighed, angry that his
clever compliment went unnoticed. "You have a great butt, Lady
Eleanor."
"Please," she whispered, falling onto
his chest. With that he gather her up and took her out to the barn
for a romp in the hay.
Which is how the Lady Eleanor became
his lover. In secret of course, she wouldn't have it any other way.
He was glad for that but knew she wouldn't flaunt her boy toy around
with the court. She was above that. Their affair lasted 6 months. No
one ever knew or suspected.
He never thought he would love
her. He never really even thought of if he even liked her. She was
just another conquest, a plan that had succeeded. But when she fell
ill, he was shocked. And when he found out she had died, he was
devastated.
He missed his sex toy.
