"Girl!" I heard Madam Scheffield call down to me, as I washed the dark
carpeting of the stairs with a damp cloth. I placed my cleaning materials
to the side and rose from my kneeling position on the steps and walked up
to the madam.
"When you are done with the stairs, and before you begin the windows, I want you to pick up 3 dozen roses from the florist. The last day of summer will be celebrated here with elegance."
"Yes, madam," I replied, hoping the flower seller still would have his booth open this late in the afternoon, "What color would you prefer?"
"A dusty pink or maybe a darker fuchsia," she replied, thinking, "If they are out of those, ask the florist for his professional opinion. Something elegant that smells beautiful. Understand that all, girl?" I nodded as I was given the required amount of gold coins then curtseyed before I left to finish my first task at hand. I was really paranoid that there wouldn't be enough roses to fill the mistress's orders, and quickly brushed the stairs, hoping to not have to be reprimanded today. While I finished quickly, I then was afraid it wouldn't be up to either of the ladies of the house's expectations. No time to worry, I then thought and went to my room to grab my basket and woolen cloak.
Quickly I walked along the path to the village, without time to spare, I avoided any distraction. Thus I ignored the bubbling brook and cloudless sky. I also tried to ignore the miller shop, but as I passed it I still, after this long month, felt a pang of regret over what all happened there. I also hoped to avoid their stand at the market, thinking it was too late for them to even be open, noting the other closed kiosks. Luckily, they were closed or at least not set-up enroute to the florists, and I was able to once again avoid uneasy feelings there.
The florist's booth, however, was also closed, and I had to turn back around and hope that his shop was still open, or at least him still around. Madam Scheffield would not be pleased to hear it if I failed. I also didn't want added chores added to already too many to make up for it.
I rapped on the door-it was locked, though lights were still on inside, hoping someone would answer. I knocked again, more urgently, becoming increasingly more frustrated and anxious. Finally, mid knock of my third attempt, the door was open, and an aging man with a slight hunch appeared in the entry way.
"Who disturbs an old man trying to relax?" he gruffly stated, then placed his spectacles on his nose, "Have you no respect for your elders? In my day- --"
When he recognized me he stopped his lecture and even smiled. "Miss Nora, it's a pleasure."
With a sigh of relief I relayed my problem to him. "Elegant and beautiful," I added, stating the kind of rose Madam Scheffield wanted.
"Kind of late to begin flower shopping for the end of summer celebrations don't you think? A big party does she have planned?"
"No," I replied, "she is waiting until the equinox for an extravagant party. Just she and Camille will celebrate this year."
"Three dozen roses, eh?" he commented, moving to let me in, "Let me see what I can do, but no promises, missy."
His shop was small, yet cozy, without much for decorations, except for various flowers in vases throughout the whitewashed room. He offered me a seat beside an unlit fireplace and left through a door to a back room. I waited in the air, staring at a vase of flowers while I heard him shuffler around in the other room. He was gone for a while, which wasn't a god sign. I hope Madam Scheffield is in a forgiving mood, I though.
The afternoon was turning to the beginnings of evening by the time he returned, flowers in hand. "I couldn't find all dusty pink and fuchsias," he said, "so I added some light lavenders and a softer pink as well. It's the best I could do on such a short notice."
"I am sure it'll be okay," I said, accepting the roses, hoping my statement was true. I handed over the money, and placed the flowers in the basket. Thanking him profusely for selling me the flowers after business hours, I left the florist shop and stepped onto the street.
There were no crowds this time of day, but it wasn't completely abandoned. An occasional passerby would also be on the street-mostly workers closing booths from the daily market, since business pretty much was ceased for the day. At least today I didn't run into nobles out-and-about wanting to buy goods, thus missed any mockery from them. No decent person would be out this time of day in the village.
"What is someone like you doing out this late?" a voice asked from behind me, and I turned with a start. "It's been a long time, fair lady," it added, now facing me, "I hope I haven't been forgotten." He smiled down at me, humorously, and I stood in shock having never expected to run into him again. After a while of silence, I still wasn't able to say anything. "Still think a royal guard shouldn't socialize with you, lady? A lady as fair as you actually shouldn't converse with one as boring as I." Again his eyes twinkled, but indeed, I still felt it was dishonorable to be around me.
I started to slowly walk away and avoid talking to him all together, but the guard would not allow such an easy get-away. He grabbed my wrist and wouldn't let go when I tried to pull it back. "You really think you are that horrid, my lady? I assure you, you aren't."
I had been looking at the ground, avoiding his stare, and continued to do so as I managed, "Tell that to your fellow country men. I am as wanted here as the plague."
"That is not true and you know it," he said almost sternly, "there are many people who respect your father. He was---"
"My father is nothing but rebel scum!" I retorted angrily, now staring into his eyes, which lost all their humor now, "And because of him, I constantly damn this kingdom with my presence. The royalty hates me, the nobles hate me, and the gentry all hate me! The only people who don't seem to care are the peasants, and what they think doesn't matter."
"Of course it does. The working class is the very foundation of this kingdom. Lose them and everything else will collapse. And not everyone hates you!"
"Yes they do!"
"I don't, my lady," he said quietly, "I already ruin your argument there."
"What's wrong with you?"
"I beg your pardon?" he asked.
"Why don't you hate me? Why don't you, like all your royal cronies, dislike me?"
"I happen to believe in the good of people," he said thoughtfully, "as least until they are given the chance to prove themselves either way. I'm not ready to label you anything yet."
"You are just a damned fool," I muttered, then tried to continue on my way, but he still stood in my way.
"Indeed so," he said smiling again, and then added, "I'd rather be a damned fool among bland conformity then normal like everyone else." There was a pause and replied adding, "I guess it's sad if I am a fool for thinking the best of everyone."
"Sir Knight, I am flattered you think of me so highly, but in all seriousness, I am not worthy of such praise." He still wouldn't let it rest though. "I know inside you are as beautiful as your appearance," he responded.
I snorted in a very unladylike matter. "I am not beautiful, sir; if you want beauty, go to the next noble's ball."
"No, that isn't beauty, that is vanity and pride. It's all a parade of jewels and finery, nothing more. And fair lady, maybe its time you looked in a mirror." With that, he ran a finger across my cheek, making me shiver, and I drag back, away from his reach. Looking back at me, he replied, "You will see there are many things beautiful about you-and to be honest, not all can be seen. Just take a minute and think of yourself as someone other then a rebel spawn. You are the daughter of one of the great beauties of the kingdom; maybe think of that instead."
With that, he presented me with a light pink rose, unlike the ones in my basket as it was bred not to have thorns, so my fingers were not pricked. "Roses are the most beautiful of flowers," he commented, "A lady like you deserves one." After I took it, I felt his fingers dwell on mine for the briefest of moments then he winked at me, and headed off in the opposite direction. I stared after him, perplexed by this stranger that seemed to know me so well. More well then even me.
How did he know I loved roses?
"When you are done with the stairs, and before you begin the windows, I want you to pick up 3 dozen roses from the florist. The last day of summer will be celebrated here with elegance."
"Yes, madam," I replied, hoping the flower seller still would have his booth open this late in the afternoon, "What color would you prefer?"
"A dusty pink or maybe a darker fuchsia," she replied, thinking, "If they are out of those, ask the florist for his professional opinion. Something elegant that smells beautiful. Understand that all, girl?" I nodded as I was given the required amount of gold coins then curtseyed before I left to finish my first task at hand. I was really paranoid that there wouldn't be enough roses to fill the mistress's orders, and quickly brushed the stairs, hoping to not have to be reprimanded today. While I finished quickly, I then was afraid it wouldn't be up to either of the ladies of the house's expectations. No time to worry, I then thought and went to my room to grab my basket and woolen cloak.
Quickly I walked along the path to the village, without time to spare, I avoided any distraction. Thus I ignored the bubbling brook and cloudless sky. I also tried to ignore the miller shop, but as I passed it I still, after this long month, felt a pang of regret over what all happened there. I also hoped to avoid their stand at the market, thinking it was too late for them to even be open, noting the other closed kiosks. Luckily, they were closed or at least not set-up enroute to the florists, and I was able to once again avoid uneasy feelings there.
The florist's booth, however, was also closed, and I had to turn back around and hope that his shop was still open, or at least him still around. Madam Scheffield would not be pleased to hear it if I failed. I also didn't want added chores added to already too many to make up for it.
I rapped on the door-it was locked, though lights were still on inside, hoping someone would answer. I knocked again, more urgently, becoming increasingly more frustrated and anxious. Finally, mid knock of my third attempt, the door was open, and an aging man with a slight hunch appeared in the entry way.
"Who disturbs an old man trying to relax?" he gruffly stated, then placed his spectacles on his nose, "Have you no respect for your elders? In my day- --"
When he recognized me he stopped his lecture and even smiled. "Miss Nora, it's a pleasure."
With a sigh of relief I relayed my problem to him. "Elegant and beautiful," I added, stating the kind of rose Madam Scheffield wanted.
"Kind of late to begin flower shopping for the end of summer celebrations don't you think? A big party does she have planned?"
"No," I replied, "she is waiting until the equinox for an extravagant party. Just she and Camille will celebrate this year."
"Three dozen roses, eh?" he commented, moving to let me in, "Let me see what I can do, but no promises, missy."
His shop was small, yet cozy, without much for decorations, except for various flowers in vases throughout the whitewashed room. He offered me a seat beside an unlit fireplace and left through a door to a back room. I waited in the air, staring at a vase of flowers while I heard him shuffler around in the other room. He was gone for a while, which wasn't a god sign. I hope Madam Scheffield is in a forgiving mood, I though.
The afternoon was turning to the beginnings of evening by the time he returned, flowers in hand. "I couldn't find all dusty pink and fuchsias," he said, "so I added some light lavenders and a softer pink as well. It's the best I could do on such a short notice."
"I am sure it'll be okay," I said, accepting the roses, hoping my statement was true. I handed over the money, and placed the flowers in the basket. Thanking him profusely for selling me the flowers after business hours, I left the florist shop and stepped onto the street.
There were no crowds this time of day, but it wasn't completely abandoned. An occasional passerby would also be on the street-mostly workers closing booths from the daily market, since business pretty much was ceased for the day. At least today I didn't run into nobles out-and-about wanting to buy goods, thus missed any mockery from them. No decent person would be out this time of day in the village.
"What is someone like you doing out this late?" a voice asked from behind me, and I turned with a start. "It's been a long time, fair lady," it added, now facing me, "I hope I haven't been forgotten." He smiled down at me, humorously, and I stood in shock having never expected to run into him again. After a while of silence, I still wasn't able to say anything. "Still think a royal guard shouldn't socialize with you, lady? A lady as fair as you actually shouldn't converse with one as boring as I." Again his eyes twinkled, but indeed, I still felt it was dishonorable to be around me.
I started to slowly walk away and avoid talking to him all together, but the guard would not allow such an easy get-away. He grabbed my wrist and wouldn't let go when I tried to pull it back. "You really think you are that horrid, my lady? I assure you, you aren't."
I had been looking at the ground, avoiding his stare, and continued to do so as I managed, "Tell that to your fellow country men. I am as wanted here as the plague."
"That is not true and you know it," he said almost sternly, "there are many people who respect your father. He was---"
"My father is nothing but rebel scum!" I retorted angrily, now staring into his eyes, which lost all their humor now, "And because of him, I constantly damn this kingdom with my presence. The royalty hates me, the nobles hate me, and the gentry all hate me! The only people who don't seem to care are the peasants, and what they think doesn't matter."
"Of course it does. The working class is the very foundation of this kingdom. Lose them and everything else will collapse. And not everyone hates you!"
"Yes they do!"
"I don't, my lady," he said quietly, "I already ruin your argument there."
"What's wrong with you?"
"I beg your pardon?" he asked.
"Why don't you hate me? Why don't you, like all your royal cronies, dislike me?"
"I happen to believe in the good of people," he said thoughtfully, "as least until they are given the chance to prove themselves either way. I'm not ready to label you anything yet."
"You are just a damned fool," I muttered, then tried to continue on my way, but he still stood in my way.
"Indeed so," he said smiling again, and then added, "I'd rather be a damned fool among bland conformity then normal like everyone else." There was a pause and replied adding, "I guess it's sad if I am a fool for thinking the best of everyone."
"Sir Knight, I am flattered you think of me so highly, but in all seriousness, I am not worthy of such praise." He still wouldn't let it rest though. "I know inside you are as beautiful as your appearance," he responded.
I snorted in a very unladylike matter. "I am not beautiful, sir; if you want beauty, go to the next noble's ball."
"No, that isn't beauty, that is vanity and pride. It's all a parade of jewels and finery, nothing more. And fair lady, maybe its time you looked in a mirror." With that, he ran a finger across my cheek, making me shiver, and I drag back, away from his reach. Looking back at me, he replied, "You will see there are many things beautiful about you-and to be honest, not all can be seen. Just take a minute and think of yourself as someone other then a rebel spawn. You are the daughter of one of the great beauties of the kingdom; maybe think of that instead."
With that, he presented me with a light pink rose, unlike the ones in my basket as it was bred not to have thorns, so my fingers were not pricked. "Roses are the most beautiful of flowers," he commented, "A lady like you deserves one." After I took it, I felt his fingers dwell on mine for the briefest of moments then he winked at me, and headed off in the opposite direction. I stared after him, perplexed by this stranger that seemed to know me so well. More well then even me.
How did he know I loved roses?