So when we last left our friend, she had just dumped a bucket of soapy water unto her crush. Let's see what happens. *note: yes the chapters are a bit short, but I want to but up more of the story soon, and just could not wait. Happy dance*

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The man looked at me, looked at me with those emerald eyes. Then he did a surprising thing. He started laughing. Tears of mirth streaked down his cheeks and he nearly collapsed. I didn't know what to do. I suppose I should have been relieved that he wasn't mad, but now he thought of me as a bumbling oaf. I said something like " I need to get more water" then I ran as fast as I could. It only occurred to me as I rounded the corner that I had forgotten my bucket.

Washing the rest of the flagstones was harder, as I had to keep running back and forth getting more water in a bowl that I think was used for the cats. But since no one had owned felines here for at least 20 years, you can never be too sure. I had managed to finish all but a small patch by the fountain. As I started over there, my knuckles brazed the sharp corner of the bird feeder next to the fountain. This didn't hurt too much, but as I stepped backwards, I tripped over the cat bowl. Twisting around, I put my hands down to stop myself, only to discover that the gardener had decided to leave the rake out. My right hand fell hard onto the spikes and I fell onto the grass beside it, bleeding and dazed. It wasn't until I let out my breath that the pain shot through me.

I looked at my hand. There were four puncture wounds running across my palm. Two were bleeding, and my knuckles weren't in great shape either. It was like my hand was on fire, with four pellets of lead melting on my palm. I touched the area gingerly, and was relieved to find no broken bones. Tears from earlier were about to resurface, but I wouldn't let them. Instead I cursed, using words I taught myself, that I knew would make perhaps even sailors ill.

"Such a nice little flower like you shouldn't be using words like that." I spun around at the voice. It was the guard, still wet from our earlier meeting. His face held a look of flirting mockery, but when he saw my hand, his expression quickly changed from shock, then to a look of seriousness. "Here let me see." He said tenderly. Taking my hand he looked over the injuries. Opening up a bag that was next to him, he took out a bottle and a white cloth strip. Seeing my surprise at him carrying this around, he grinned. "A man of the royal guard must always be ready to help himself in times of crisis." I rolled my eyes and he laughed. Such a memorized speech. "Now this will sting a bit, but hold still." He ordered, uncorking the bottle.

It did not sting just a bit. It hurt so badly that I punched him in the arm to get him to take the foul stuff off. He yelled in surprise. " Where did you learn to hit like that?" he inquired, rubbing his shoulder. "My brother" I managed to hiss. The guard grinned in mockery once again. "Ah I see. And did he teach you to throw water on unsuspecting visitors as well?" This was said as a joke, but after the actual incident, the rake, and everything, I didn't see it as a joke. I started crying, silent tears at first, then finally just sobbing like a baby.

He put his arm around me awkwardly. "The name's Ethan." He said, probably just trying to break the uncomfortable situation. I took up the chance to change the subject. "Mabel" I said, still hiccuping. "Mabel, does that not mean beautiful?" he asked. I nodded grimly. "Rather ironic that I should be called that." Ethan frowned. "No, your beautiful." I gazed up at him, startled. No one had ever called me beautiful. I was just plain looking, nothing special about me. Yet this man looked at me as if I were a queen of some sort. I was about to tell him that it was HE that looked too radiant to be human, but the words got stuck in my throat and nothing came out except for a weak smile.

Ethan smiled back, than slowly, almost afraid, he bent down and kissed me lightly, his lips brushing mine like a soft whispering promise of something yet to come. He leaned back and looked at me tentatively, waiting for my reaction. All I could say was "My hand doesn't hurt as much now." It was all the affirmative he needed. Drawing me close, he kissed me again, this time stronger, more passionately. I kissed him back just as firmly. It felt as if we were the only two beings left in the world. I knew then that if it wasn't love, then I would never marry anyway. We were a single creature, nothing could separate us, nor did I wish anything to.

But unfortunately something did. Behind me I heard first a gasp, then that horribly familiar "Ahem". Reluctantly pulling away, I turned and came face- to-face with a rather pale Madame, a frowning prince, and a fuming Ella.