At the night of the ball, I paced restlessly in my room, twisting my handkerchief in agitation like a caged animal. In a way, I probably was. I was ready to tear out my hair, trample my gown, strangle my father, set the castle on fire- but I digress. It also didn't help matters much when I realized that it would be so much worse at my future wedding. I flopped on my writing chair and started fidgeting fitfully.
The maids that were trying to get me to cooperate on giving me a decent primping caught some of the tension as well and were starting to look annoyed. Hell, one of them even slapped the top of my head with a fan lying nearby to stop me from squirming so much. Of course, a few seconds later, she became completely horrified at "assaulting" the royal princess and immediately began groveling. Damn, but does the woman have no self-respect? Inwardly, I grimaced at the sight and reassured her that I found no offence. After seeing the desperate tears as the servant continued to sob incoherently about her seven little brothers and sisters in a little hut, my mood became bleaker as I sighed.
I had to physically shake the young woman as I informed her solemnly that I hadn't taken any offence at all and if it reassures her, I would be sure to inform the woman in charge of the servants that she's not allowed to fire her. I almost flinched when a flood of hysterically happy tears flowed down her cheeks as she cried that I was "most merciful and kind and…" The rest I tuned out as I patted her head comfortingly since she was kneeled by my chair and refused to get up even when I tried to pull her up myself.
Unwillingly, we both started to relax by the repetitious movements of my patting. Hm… Maybe I should get a dog?
My anxiety all came rushing back when some of the other servants began whispering among themselves the rumors of Prince Edward's charm and his good looks. Unfortunately for me, since they were all crowded around me, I had no problem hearing their whispers.
However, throughout their conversation, I noticed that they all only centered on his looks and his charm. Nothing more. There was not one word that mentioned anything on his character. While some may argue that being "charming" is part of a person's character, they also have to realize that charm could be both genuine and false. With my pessimistic side cheering me on, I suspected that the charm was false- And he was a horrible, horrible, troll of a man whose heart is rotting on the inside and doesn't know the meaning of honor, and…
Well… that was the worst-case scenario I could come up with given the facts that I already know, which are his looks and charm. The fact that he wasn't some ugly oily short balding man did little to comfort me. Well, actually it did – only a little, though.
I was torn from my thoughts when a sweet tinkling chime suddenly sounded. Looking up, I was instantly wary of the gleam of anticipation one of the servant women had in her eye as she stalked forward with a light blue ribbon with ribbons dangling prettily on it.
After many more (painful) aggravating hours, I was ready with some kind of an elaborate hairstyle with the bell-ribbon woven artfully into my hair. My attire consisted of a light, sky-blue gown with a killer corset underneath it all. I swear, if I ever find out who invented the bloody thing, I will first torture that damned person slowly with relish and let them bleed to death. Maybe I'll strap them on the stake where I can use them instead of dummies to practice my swords with.
Hmm… That's a nice idea. I'll have to remember to write that down later.
When I snapped out of my wishful daydreaming, I had somehow arrived at the foot of the stairs. Damn. How'd I get here so fast? Sighing, I approached the door to the ballroom timidly and stopped. Then I stared at the door. Actually, it's amazing how different each door looks. I never really noticed the pretty wood patterns on the door. The door was heavy and dark mahogany and it was nearly double my height.
Amazing.
And what was more amazing was how the swirls of the patterns were so entrancing. After staring at the patterns for 5 minutes, they started to actually move and swirl.
"Rory! What are you doing!" a low rumbling voice filled with amusement suddenly spoke behind me. I spun around and swayed slightly from the beautiful swirls from the door. A pair of hands reached out and steadied me. I blinked at stared at the hands with interest. They were tanned and calloused and they were on my shoulders.
Interesting.
"Maybe the lass finally got pushed over the edge? Can't say I'm surprised. I always knew she was little barmy," another voice said in a teasing voice. My eyes blinked and I shook myself out of the dazed state I was in and gave Asher a glare. He gave me a roguish grin in response.
I huffed and turned back to Ken. "Hullo."
He raised his eyebrows. "Are you feeling okay? What was on the door?"
I felt my eyes glaze over slightly, "Swirls," I murmured dreamily.
The two knights blinked at me. Ken glanced behind me at the door and exchanged looks with Asher. Then, Asher slapped my face lightly and I snapped out of my state.
"Rory? Rory? Puppet, you've got to stay with us, okay? Well, at least until the ball is over. Then you could look at all the swirls on all the doors."
I smiled dreamily and nodded, "Agreed," Turning somber, I turned to the heavy doors once more and pushed it open solemnly.
I somehow managed to slip in without the herald's notice and started to look around. Soft music and the quiet murmurs of people met my ears, and most of the ladies at the ball were dressed in delightfully vibrant colors that were either in silk, velvet, or whatever other ridiculously rich expensive materials they can buy to prove their status.
I walked around the perimeter of the ballroom uncertainly. Then, I saw them. They were gathered around in a group, talking gaily with shrill voices like a bunch of mindless monkeys. I was determined not to make eye contact. I turned my face away from them, hoping my blond curls would be enough to cover my face as I walked faster.
"Aurora!" a shrill voice shrieked "delightedly". I groaned inwardly but plastered on a great big fake smile and 'floated' to the group like a proper princess.
"Hello, Elaine," I gave a small smile, "Enjoying yourself?"
The petite brunette gave a simpering smile, "Oh but of course I am! But you should be simply elated tonight!" here she gave a dramatic hand movement, "You actually get to meet your future husband!"
Wow. I give you my utmost thanks for letting me know, Elaine.
Shaking the sarcastic voice in my head, I gave another smile that I prayed didn't look much like the grimace I had in mind, "Yeah, I'm so excited that I'll meet my betrothed," I echoed dutifully.
"Oh, but my dear," Elaine looked at me with a fake worried pout.
I raised my eyebrow, wondering what the hell she's on about now, "Yes, Elaine?"
"Is that what you're wearing?" she questioned with a patronizing voice.
We both looked down at my dress. While it was made of the most expensive silk and was elegant, it was still painfully plain next to Elaine's multi-colored vivid ball gown.
Batting my lashes back at Elaine, I simpered, "Oh yes. While I know this is plain, I don't want to seem like I'm out to deliberately impress. Don't want to seem too desperate, you know," I smiled sweetly at her.
SCORE!
Elaine gave me a short narrow-eyed nod with a small look of disdain and one more condescending smile before turning her back on me once more towards her group. That was her not-so-subtle dismissal. Rolling my eyes, I went back to my aimless wandering.
Finally, during my wandering, I found Ken again. He was, as expected, leaning towards the wall and watching everything quietly and giving people who tried to talk to him absent-minded nods and noncommittal sounds. Most of them gave up with a huff.
Meanwhile, Asher was in the middle of the ballroom, as expected, mingling and flirting with all the ladies. I rolled my eyes when Asher attempted to woo the Ice Queen. Even as a young child, I always admired her and her icy stares that could scare off any knight. Asher had been trying to get to her for years. I heard from Ken that the game had been going on for years. Personally, I'm wagering on Asher winning her over in about two more years while Ken put his money on the two marrying in five more years.
Muffling my amusement, I took my place next to Ken and joined him in his people-watching.
"Enjoying yourself?" he asked suddenly.
I didn't even bother looking at him and gave a small snort. Sighing, I started the customary scolds during balls, "Please. Don't even ask that. And what about you? It's not normal for a man to just stand here and do nothing but to-to…" I spluttered, unable to continue on my thought of frustration.
"Watch?" he finished for me with a small smile.
"Yes!" I confirmed. And it wasn't! I was always afraid that he would one day miss the girl that he would definitely like and eventually marry because he never made a move to mingle or anything. He was like my brother, and damn it, I want some damn nephews or nieces!
I was roused out of my thoughts with a teasing, but stubborn voice, "But what if I don't want to… 'mingle'?" Ken's green eyes were twinkling with a maddening teasing light that made me want to reach out and shake him until his teeth rattle.
I narrowed my eyes dangerously, "If you don't, I will personally make sure you get betrothed to Elaine."
Ken paled and looked at me in horror. I smiled sweetly in return. He narrowed his dark green eyes and smirked, "You're bluffing."
I raised a delicate eyebrow, "Am I?" Then, glancing behind him since he wasn't leaning against the wall anymore, I gave him a subtle shove towards a pretty redhead that looked desperate enough to gnaw her own arm off to escape an older oily man that was currently leering at her and grasping her hand tightly. Then, I stood back and watched the show.
Ken muffled a curse as he crashed into the redhead. The girl gave a small yelp and hearing the yelp, Ken (as the gentleman that he is) turned around and grabbed her, preventing her from falling. They were still in each other's arms when they looked at each other and gazed into each other's eyes. Then realizing the awkward situation, they immediately let go, turned beet red, and muttered an apology.
Sir Oily, realizing at once the threat Ken posed to taking away the redhead (not that he had ever really had her in the first place), proceeded to tug the young woman that I now distinctly recognize as Emma away despite of her protests.
As a true knight in shining armor, Ken narrowed his eyes and grasped the grubby man's fat wrist firmly while saying something low to him that I couldn't catch. However, the desired effect was accomplished when Sir Oily's eyes darkened while his face paled as he reluctantly let go. Although the reason why he let go was probably because Ken had tightened his grip painfully on his wrist.
Bowing his head slightly, Ken wished Sir Oily a good evening while keeping his dark green eyes firmly on him, daring him to stay. Shooting him one last dark look, Sir Oily grudgingly waddled off to most likely gorge himself at the refreshments table to comfort himself in his loss.
Meanwhile, Emma was gazing at Ken like he was her new hero while she smiled demurely at him, thanking him. Pretty soon, the two were engaged in a quiet conversation. From the looks of it, they were discussing their common dislike of Sir Oily, judging from the calculating venomous looks Ken sent him after Emma hesitantly divulged something.
Would you look at that? Ken's already protective! How adorable. I'm sure that soon, there will definitely be little Ken's and Emma's running around, calling me Auntie Rory! Yay!
With a more cheerful mood as a result of my spontaneous matchmaking, I headed to the banquet table. Walking around, I grew exasperated as I found nothing but healthy foods at the banquet table. I guess all the goodies are only presented at the dining room. Humph. Sighing, I piled some fresh green grapes on my plate and started munching my way through the sweet tangy fruit.
"Princess Aurora, I presume?" I froze at the low smooth tone and turned around slowly. Glancing at the man who spoke warily, I prayed he wasn't who I think he is.
I smiled hesitantly and looked at him, trying to figure out if he was a prince or not. He was good-looking, no doubt about that, but he had an air of arrogance that just made me want to use him for my sword-practicing dummies. He had wavy dark brown hair, hazel self-assured eyes, and an aristocrat nose that seemed to look down on everything. He wore what seemed to be a velvet dark green, elaborate elegant surcoat with a white tunic underneath.
"Prince Edward, at your service," he said 'charmingly'.
Ah hell.
He leered at me and stepped closer. I took a step back. He came closer to me yet again.
GOD! Can't this man take a goddamn hint!
Prince Edward started to look at me up and down and smirked. He took yet another step closer to me and fingered one of my curls.
WHAT the hell does he think he's doing?
"The rumors were right, the Princess of King Phillip's kingdom has beauty to rival an angel," he murmured. "Although," he continued, trying his best to charm me, "I personally think you surpass the beauty of any angel,"
I almost snorted, but it was already difficult to breathe with him taking all of my goddamn air while standing so close to me! So instead, I swallowed and mumbled a weak thank-you. Turning around quickly, I found a silver tray of glasses of wine. I grabbed one and clutched it tightly, thankful that I could at least have something in between us, even if it was just a measly wine glass, as a barrier of sorts.
"But I pray that the angel from heaven will find it in her heart to accept a common mortal such as I," the prince added, leering at me once more. His hazel eyes burned into mine uncomfortably as I looked around discreetly, trying to see if Ken or Asher were nearby to rescue me.
In my panic, I forgot all about my plans to make the prince hate me, which, even if I did, I wasn't exactly sure how.
But to answer his question, no, I wouldn't accept the lowly mortal such as he, but would instead, CURSE HIM TO THE DEEPEST LAYER OF-
And then, he took another step that was much too close for comfort as I was practically leaning backwards.
I edged away from him and took a long sip of the wine.
God help me.
AN. Revised on 07/04/05.