CHAPTER FOUR - Kissing him
"So many sheets to wash," Lilia groaned.
"So many floors to mop," Anna complained.
"So many rooms to dust," Christine griped.
"So many things to do for the ball!" all three laughed. They were in the kitchen, helping with cooking the many dishes for Prince Charles' home coming ball. All three were covered with dust, grime, and water streaks.
"Lilia! Come here this instant! I need to get ready for the ball!" Helen's familiar voice shrieked. Lilia rolled her eyes.
"Go on, Lilia, princess. You wouldn't want to waste your already good luck, now would you?" Christine asked, smiling.
"Be quiet, Christine," Lilia said, mock angry. She quickly washed her hands before hurrying up to Princess Helen's bedchambers. Helen stood by the full-length mirror, clothed in a corset, petticoats, and a thin undergarment.
"Hurry, servant," Helen snapped. Lilia curtsied and picked up a brush, sliding the fine-combed brush through the girl's hair. She curled the hair into fine curls, framing Helen's slender face. Lilia thread a golden ribbon around the curls, tying the ends of the ribbon so that it hid underneath. She carefully unhooked a sparkling lemon gown from its place on Helen's closet door and brought it to the latter.
"Raise your arms, miss," Lilia instructed softly. Helen obediently raised her arms and silk brushed them before the gown settled down smoothly. Layers of curls and cloth crisscrossed, waved, and looped around the gown, creating the look of a yellow valentine. Helen's waist had shrunk down to a hand span of a width, having her look every inch a fragile, delicate woman.
"My shoes," Helen said. In a minute, a pair of creamy white dancing slippers slid onto her feet, a puff of rose on the toe of the shoe. "Good. Now get out of my sight, wench, or I will look as if I was friends with you!"
Lilia curtsied and exited the room, teeth clenched. It was not fair how, because of the simple, yet strong, barrier between classes that some people were the masters and others were the servants. Didn't everyone deserve to dress in a gown and attend a ball? No one rightly deserved to be labeled as a 'low class wench' because of one's class.
After scrubbing viciously at the bed sheets, Lilia retreated to her small, wooden room at the top of the castle. A window was open, bringing the fresh scent of evening air into the room-along with the laughter, music, and sounds of Prince Charles' home coming ball. She leaned outside and saw a scattering of beautifully dressed women giggling excitedly and talking about the prince's hand. Lilia sighed and shut the window, bringing the thin rag of shade down, covering her room from any view.
Charles barely got to clench his jaw so as not to let anyone see his yawn. He winced as his jaw nearly cracked from the effort. Yet another dumb, giggling girl swept towards him, dimpling and holding out her hand.
"Good evening, Lady Justina," Charles bowed politely, lightly brushing his lips against her knuckles.
"Good evening, Prince Charles," Lady Justina purred, batting her eyelashes.
"Would you like to dance?" Charles asked.
"Of course! I thought you would never ask!" Lady Justina giggled. Charles pasted a smile onto his face and offered his elbow. The two walked to the ballroom floor and Lady Justina leaned into him, running her arms slyly down his. He glanced around and his eyes widened as he spotted the wavy blond hair in the window.
"Lilia."
Lady Justina pushed Charles away with a confused look on her face.
"My name is Lady Justina, Prince Charles."
"Pardon me, but…pardon me," Charles gently slipped away from Lady Justina's grip and strode out of the ballroom.
Lilia uttered a hoarse shriek as she saw Prince Charles walk briskly towards her spot. After a few moments in her room, she had decided to go and peek in an unoccupied window, seeing the beauty of the ball. Unfortunately, she had not expected to be caught. Now she was running behind the palace, running away from the prince, once again. She ducked underneath a low hanging tree branch, but ducking only slowed her pace. An arm reached out and grabbed her forearm. Prince Charles jerked Lilia to a stop.
"You-Your Majesty! Forgive me, I-I didn't mean to intrude on your ball," Lilia gasped. "Please don't-"
"Don't worry, Lilia. It doesn't matter to me if you intrude or not," Charles said softly, cutting Lilia off. Lilia stared at him.
"Why?"
Charles blushed and stared at the ground. Lilia smiled. She had never seen a man blush before.
"Lilia-" Charles began. He looked up and saw the pretty maid smiling, her eyes sparkling. His heart leaped to his throat and he gently pulled Lilia towards him. Before she could stop him, he leaned down, titled her chin up, and brought his lips down. Lilia's eyes widened in surprise before fluttering down closed. A searing heat traveled down from their lips, warming them both. She knew this was wrong, but in that moment, she didn't care. She wasn't a servant and he wasn't the prince. They were two star-struck lovers under the blanket of stars on one, enchanting night.
"So many sheets to wash," Lilia groaned.
"So many floors to mop," Anna complained.
"So many rooms to dust," Christine griped.
"So many things to do for the ball!" all three laughed. They were in the kitchen, helping with cooking the many dishes for Prince Charles' home coming ball. All three were covered with dust, grime, and water streaks.
"Lilia! Come here this instant! I need to get ready for the ball!" Helen's familiar voice shrieked. Lilia rolled her eyes.
"Go on, Lilia, princess. You wouldn't want to waste your already good luck, now would you?" Christine asked, smiling.
"Be quiet, Christine," Lilia said, mock angry. She quickly washed her hands before hurrying up to Princess Helen's bedchambers. Helen stood by the full-length mirror, clothed in a corset, petticoats, and a thin undergarment.
"Hurry, servant," Helen snapped. Lilia curtsied and picked up a brush, sliding the fine-combed brush through the girl's hair. She curled the hair into fine curls, framing Helen's slender face. Lilia thread a golden ribbon around the curls, tying the ends of the ribbon so that it hid underneath. She carefully unhooked a sparkling lemon gown from its place on Helen's closet door and brought it to the latter.
"Raise your arms, miss," Lilia instructed softly. Helen obediently raised her arms and silk brushed them before the gown settled down smoothly. Layers of curls and cloth crisscrossed, waved, and looped around the gown, creating the look of a yellow valentine. Helen's waist had shrunk down to a hand span of a width, having her look every inch a fragile, delicate woman.
"My shoes," Helen said. In a minute, a pair of creamy white dancing slippers slid onto her feet, a puff of rose on the toe of the shoe. "Good. Now get out of my sight, wench, or I will look as if I was friends with you!"
Lilia curtsied and exited the room, teeth clenched. It was not fair how, because of the simple, yet strong, barrier between classes that some people were the masters and others were the servants. Didn't everyone deserve to dress in a gown and attend a ball? No one rightly deserved to be labeled as a 'low class wench' because of one's class.
After scrubbing viciously at the bed sheets, Lilia retreated to her small, wooden room at the top of the castle. A window was open, bringing the fresh scent of evening air into the room-along with the laughter, music, and sounds of Prince Charles' home coming ball. She leaned outside and saw a scattering of beautifully dressed women giggling excitedly and talking about the prince's hand. Lilia sighed and shut the window, bringing the thin rag of shade down, covering her room from any view.
Charles barely got to clench his jaw so as not to let anyone see his yawn. He winced as his jaw nearly cracked from the effort. Yet another dumb, giggling girl swept towards him, dimpling and holding out her hand.
"Good evening, Lady Justina," Charles bowed politely, lightly brushing his lips against her knuckles.
"Good evening, Prince Charles," Lady Justina purred, batting her eyelashes.
"Would you like to dance?" Charles asked.
"Of course! I thought you would never ask!" Lady Justina giggled. Charles pasted a smile onto his face and offered his elbow. The two walked to the ballroom floor and Lady Justina leaned into him, running her arms slyly down his. He glanced around and his eyes widened as he spotted the wavy blond hair in the window.
"Lilia."
Lady Justina pushed Charles away with a confused look on her face.
"My name is Lady Justina, Prince Charles."
"Pardon me, but…pardon me," Charles gently slipped away from Lady Justina's grip and strode out of the ballroom.
Lilia uttered a hoarse shriek as she saw Prince Charles walk briskly towards her spot. After a few moments in her room, she had decided to go and peek in an unoccupied window, seeing the beauty of the ball. Unfortunately, she had not expected to be caught. Now she was running behind the palace, running away from the prince, once again. She ducked underneath a low hanging tree branch, but ducking only slowed her pace. An arm reached out and grabbed her forearm. Prince Charles jerked Lilia to a stop.
"You-Your Majesty! Forgive me, I-I didn't mean to intrude on your ball," Lilia gasped. "Please don't-"
"Don't worry, Lilia. It doesn't matter to me if you intrude or not," Charles said softly, cutting Lilia off. Lilia stared at him.
"Why?"
Charles blushed and stared at the ground. Lilia smiled. She had never seen a man blush before.
"Lilia-" Charles began. He looked up and saw the pretty maid smiling, her eyes sparkling. His heart leaped to his throat and he gently pulled Lilia towards him. Before she could stop him, he leaned down, titled her chin up, and brought his lips down. Lilia's eyes widened in surprise before fluttering down closed. A searing heat traveled down from their lips, warming them both. She knew this was wrong, but in that moment, she didn't care. She wasn't a servant and he wasn't the prince. They were two star-struck lovers under the blanket of stars on one, enchanting night.
