A/N: Whee! Another one coming up. More reviews, more updates. No reviews,
well, no updates. Work it out. I'm sure you guys know what to do. *Evil
laughter* That's me. Get used to it! Enjoy this chapter. Better REVIEW!!!
Chapter 11:
For the next two nights, Jonathan waited and waited for Liza to turn up, but to no avail. He couldn't believe that Liza would just leave him when he had made it clear what his feelings for her were. Was Jessica right? Had he ruined his chance to be with her by his advances? Seeing how disappointed Jon looked, Jeremy tried to cheer him up.
'Sheesh, Jon. Women are just trouble and totally not worth bothering about. Believe me, you'll forget her soon enough," Jeremy said.
Jonathan merely nodded, unable to mask his hurt. That night, he floated off to sleep thinking of a certain redhead. Thinking of Liza...or was it Elizabeth? Jonathan wasn't sure which was which. He didn't care anyway. He just wanted to forget. To forget everything.
********
Liza had to hide her feelings from her friends. She didn't want them to know about her pain, her feelings for a noble. And not just any ordinary noble, but a Prince. Her heart nearly broke each time she knew she was missing a chance to see Jonathan again. But she couldn't bear to deceive him anymore. Besides, what good was it even if she did see him again? It would only serve to hurt them more. Better to let him think that I've no feelings for him than to hurt him, Liza thought, as she valiantly tried to blink her tears away.
********
Three years later, nineteen-year-old Liza Wellson still faithfully helped her mother in managing the tavern. She immersed herself in work, tiring herself to the bone to keep herself from thinking, from day- dreaming. Things had finally worked out with Sally and Dan, with Dan proposing to Sally. The wedding was to be held two weeks later. The whole family was in a frenzy. What with worrying about the wedding ceremony and the guest list, there were enough to give everyone a headache. Liza volunteered to make the wedding gown, pouring all her energy into it. Her family worried about her driving herself too hard. But what could they do about it? Her mother claimed that Liza could be going through a certain phrase in life. But even that couldn't satisfy everyone.
"Mother, I'll be going over to the North now to distribute the food. Is there anything you need?" Liza inquired.
"No...but isn't it a little too cold out there now? " Mrs. Wellson peered out of the window, shuddering at the thought of stepping out of the warm tavern, into the harsh winter.
"Really,"Liza replied, "It's fine. I promise to put on an extra shawl. What's more, I also have my Gift to help me." The words came out before she could stop it.
Pain flashed across Mrs. Wellson's face and her eyes clouded. Liza bit her lip hard, shaking herself mentally for letting her tongue run loose. She had yet again reminded her mother of Father. And with that, the memories from the past came flooding back to mind. Her memories of her father were faint. He was hardly around and the responsibility of running the house fell on her mother's shoulders. The most vivid memory Liza had of him was when he dropped the bomb and announced that he was leaving, never to come back again. He then strode out casually with an arm draped over a younger, prettier woman, without as much as a backward glance. All of them had to restrain George from charging at Father. But that didn't stop him from yelling expletives at Father and spitting at him. Liza didn't know what else to do except to cry.
Liza hastily wiped away tears threatening to spill. She mumbled farewell to her mother who just sat down on a stool staring off into space. Stumbling into the biting cold, Liza allowed it to numb her feelings. But it didn't work. All she wanted to do was to cry her heart out. That was what thinking about her father and George did to her. She refused to think about them any longer. She set her mind to concentrating on where she's going. Since winter was approaching, the people living up in the North wouldn't be able to depend solely on their crops for food. Thus, starvation easily broke out at a time like this.
Slowly, Liza trudged on in the bleak winter weather, dragging the basketful of food behind. She had apparently underestimated the weight of it. Suddenly, there was someone calling her. She turned around. There was a figure riding on a horse and he seemed to be dressed up as a noble. He was calling her.
"Miss! Wait up! There's rumoured to be barbarians up where you're headed! You might want to have someone accompanying you," he cried out.
Liza froze. It couldn't be but yet, it was. That voice. That so familiar voice she repeatedly heard in her head. That voice which had whispered endearments to her. That voice of Jonathan's. When he came into sight, Liza's breath caught in her throat. He was still as dashing and good- looking as before, if not better. It had been three years since she last saw him. Three years. It sounded terribly short but it seemed like a whole lifetime. Liza had never thought they would never meet again, ever. But there he was, riding towards her. Looking like any dashing prince, he was immaculately-dressed, complementing his chiseled good looks. With his ever stubborn lock of hair, hanging over his forehead. He heart beat furiously as she tried not to blush.
As Jonathan neared the girl, something about her reminded him of someone. He couldn't be sure since he had met thousands of girls. But her red tresses and sea-green eyes were an unusual combination. Her looks struck a chord in him and yet, he wasn't so sure.
"It's okay, kind sir. I'm sure I'll be fine," Liza responded.
Jonathan jerked back suddenly. Elizabeth. He thought. But the girl in front of him was a commoner. Definitely not Elizabeth. Jonathan Westley, he scolded silently. It's been three years and you haven't forgotten Elizabeth at all? What kind of a man are you? He quickly snapped out of his trance and called out to the girl.
"You must be heading North. Why don't I give you a ride. You 'll appreciate the help, he added, appraising her willowy self lugging an enormous basket.
Liza's temper sparked. How dare he stereotype her? The guts of him to indicate he thought her helpless! That was just typical of the nobles. "You males think the world of yourselves. No thank you, I won't be needing the help of egoistic people like you. You can jolly well keep your free ride to yourself. I will certainly manage without your help," she shot back.
His pride wounded, Jonathan was unwilling to just let the matter rest. "Who are you calling egoistic? Look at yourself. A skinny girl lugging around that huge basket. You're overestimating your strength. It's very clear you need my help."
"You...you..." Liza sputtered, too angry to speak. She wanted to wipe that smug grin right off his arrogant face. It seemed unbelievable that just a moment ago, she felt all weak inside at the sight of him. He had a way of getting under her skin. Liza remained mutely silent. She refused to rise to his bait.
Jonathan grinned, "Too furious to speak, are you?"
Liza raised her head and opened her mouth to retaliate. But before she could do so, an arrow came whizzing towards Jonathan, aiming for his arm.
"Look out!" she screamed.
Jonathan turned, in time to see the arrow coming towards him and strike his arm.
Chapter 11:
For the next two nights, Jonathan waited and waited for Liza to turn up, but to no avail. He couldn't believe that Liza would just leave him when he had made it clear what his feelings for her were. Was Jessica right? Had he ruined his chance to be with her by his advances? Seeing how disappointed Jon looked, Jeremy tried to cheer him up.
'Sheesh, Jon. Women are just trouble and totally not worth bothering about. Believe me, you'll forget her soon enough," Jeremy said.
Jonathan merely nodded, unable to mask his hurt. That night, he floated off to sleep thinking of a certain redhead. Thinking of Liza...or was it Elizabeth? Jonathan wasn't sure which was which. He didn't care anyway. He just wanted to forget. To forget everything.
********
Liza had to hide her feelings from her friends. She didn't want them to know about her pain, her feelings for a noble. And not just any ordinary noble, but a Prince. Her heart nearly broke each time she knew she was missing a chance to see Jonathan again. But she couldn't bear to deceive him anymore. Besides, what good was it even if she did see him again? It would only serve to hurt them more. Better to let him think that I've no feelings for him than to hurt him, Liza thought, as she valiantly tried to blink her tears away.
********
Three years later, nineteen-year-old Liza Wellson still faithfully helped her mother in managing the tavern. She immersed herself in work, tiring herself to the bone to keep herself from thinking, from day- dreaming. Things had finally worked out with Sally and Dan, with Dan proposing to Sally. The wedding was to be held two weeks later. The whole family was in a frenzy. What with worrying about the wedding ceremony and the guest list, there were enough to give everyone a headache. Liza volunteered to make the wedding gown, pouring all her energy into it. Her family worried about her driving herself too hard. But what could they do about it? Her mother claimed that Liza could be going through a certain phrase in life. But even that couldn't satisfy everyone.
"Mother, I'll be going over to the North now to distribute the food. Is there anything you need?" Liza inquired.
"No...but isn't it a little too cold out there now? " Mrs. Wellson peered out of the window, shuddering at the thought of stepping out of the warm tavern, into the harsh winter.
"Really,"Liza replied, "It's fine. I promise to put on an extra shawl. What's more, I also have my Gift to help me." The words came out before she could stop it.
Pain flashed across Mrs. Wellson's face and her eyes clouded. Liza bit her lip hard, shaking herself mentally for letting her tongue run loose. She had yet again reminded her mother of Father. And with that, the memories from the past came flooding back to mind. Her memories of her father were faint. He was hardly around and the responsibility of running the house fell on her mother's shoulders. The most vivid memory Liza had of him was when he dropped the bomb and announced that he was leaving, never to come back again. He then strode out casually with an arm draped over a younger, prettier woman, without as much as a backward glance. All of them had to restrain George from charging at Father. But that didn't stop him from yelling expletives at Father and spitting at him. Liza didn't know what else to do except to cry.
Liza hastily wiped away tears threatening to spill. She mumbled farewell to her mother who just sat down on a stool staring off into space. Stumbling into the biting cold, Liza allowed it to numb her feelings. But it didn't work. All she wanted to do was to cry her heart out. That was what thinking about her father and George did to her. She refused to think about them any longer. She set her mind to concentrating on where she's going. Since winter was approaching, the people living up in the North wouldn't be able to depend solely on their crops for food. Thus, starvation easily broke out at a time like this.
Slowly, Liza trudged on in the bleak winter weather, dragging the basketful of food behind. She had apparently underestimated the weight of it. Suddenly, there was someone calling her. She turned around. There was a figure riding on a horse and he seemed to be dressed up as a noble. He was calling her.
"Miss! Wait up! There's rumoured to be barbarians up where you're headed! You might want to have someone accompanying you," he cried out.
Liza froze. It couldn't be but yet, it was. That voice. That so familiar voice she repeatedly heard in her head. That voice which had whispered endearments to her. That voice of Jonathan's. When he came into sight, Liza's breath caught in her throat. He was still as dashing and good- looking as before, if not better. It had been three years since she last saw him. Three years. It sounded terribly short but it seemed like a whole lifetime. Liza had never thought they would never meet again, ever. But there he was, riding towards her. Looking like any dashing prince, he was immaculately-dressed, complementing his chiseled good looks. With his ever stubborn lock of hair, hanging over his forehead. He heart beat furiously as she tried not to blush.
As Jonathan neared the girl, something about her reminded him of someone. He couldn't be sure since he had met thousands of girls. But her red tresses and sea-green eyes were an unusual combination. Her looks struck a chord in him and yet, he wasn't so sure.
"It's okay, kind sir. I'm sure I'll be fine," Liza responded.
Jonathan jerked back suddenly. Elizabeth. He thought. But the girl in front of him was a commoner. Definitely not Elizabeth. Jonathan Westley, he scolded silently. It's been three years and you haven't forgotten Elizabeth at all? What kind of a man are you? He quickly snapped out of his trance and called out to the girl.
"You must be heading North. Why don't I give you a ride. You 'll appreciate the help, he added, appraising her willowy self lugging an enormous basket.
Liza's temper sparked. How dare he stereotype her? The guts of him to indicate he thought her helpless! That was just typical of the nobles. "You males think the world of yourselves. No thank you, I won't be needing the help of egoistic people like you. You can jolly well keep your free ride to yourself. I will certainly manage without your help," she shot back.
His pride wounded, Jonathan was unwilling to just let the matter rest. "Who are you calling egoistic? Look at yourself. A skinny girl lugging around that huge basket. You're overestimating your strength. It's very clear you need my help."
"You...you..." Liza sputtered, too angry to speak. She wanted to wipe that smug grin right off his arrogant face. It seemed unbelievable that just a moment ago, she felt all weak inside at the sight of him. He had a way of getting under her skin. Liza remained mutely silent. She refused to rise to his bait.
Jonathan grinned, "Too furious to speak, are you?"
Liza raised her head and opened her mouth to retaliate. But before she could do so, an arrow came whizzing towards Jonathan, aiming for his arm.
"Look out!" she screamed.
Jonathan turned, in time to see the arrow coming towards him and strike his arm.