New chapter! yay! The characters are all coming together! I'm kinda sick again, so I haven't been writing as much (it's a little hard to think when your head feels like it's stuffed with cotton balls) but I've been trying. I'm also noticing that my chapters are getting longer when I leave them for a couple days and come back. It's nice. ((is slightly drugged up))
fell4adeadguy: It is a very long title. I thinkTDP is an acceptable acronym, although it almost sounds like a drug. I think that everyone should write a version of TDP. It's an awesome story to expand on.
Dreamer at Heart: ((sigh)) Teachers. Anywho, okay! Update!
Tiger Lily21: It's the easiest way to keep them organized. ;cD I hate being the 'responsible one' too. You'll find out soon! Well, maybe not, but you will find out!
rainkisser: I love your TDP story. I should have written a review, but I was too busy. I'll write one as soon as I'm done here (well, I guess I don't really need to write that, but whatever). Pretty much, although I do all my sowing by machine, not hand. I made a jacket just last month. It's really nifty. And yes, Jarrod was a bit of a lady's manat one point in his life. Stuff happened, however, and he changed. Yay for stories!
And Hooray for Fisherman's Friends!
Yours in sickness and in health
Lulai
Chapter Three: Dinner
"Mount up!" the Earl called out. They had stopped for a small respite a few leagues from the castle to rest the horses. Jarrod climbed onto his horse.
"How much farther, Havara?" Jarrod called, rubbing his smooth chin. On the advice of his brother, he had shaved off his beard, but now he was missing it. It also made him look younger, which he wasn't sure was a good thing.
Jarrod was slightly anxious to be off again. It was getting late, and he didn't want any trouble. After all, he was going to Havara's castle to investigate a series of robberies. To think that they would pass up robbing a king was unlikely. Jarrod did take some precautions. He wasn't carrying much gold on him, and he had left the heavy gold crown back in Drewery. At the moment, he was wearing only a sash underneath his cloak that indicated his rank. He also had a gold circlet in his pack, just in case.
"Not much farther, Majesty," the Earl replied. "Another hour, no more."
Jarrod was dying for some conversation and the Earl was better than none. "How old are your nieces?" he asked.
The Earl thought carefully. "They range in age from fifteen to six and twenty."
Jarrod nodded. "And how many are there?"
Again, Earl paused and Jarrod swore the man winced. "Ten."
"Ten?" Jarrod asked, shocked.
"There are two sets of twins," Havara said by way of explanation.
"Ten," Jarrod repeated, shaking his head.
Jarrod stopped and cocked his head. There was a strange sound that seemed almost like thunder, except the sky was a clear blue, darkening to violet at the edges.
"What is that sound?"
"Yer Majesty! Move!" a guard behind him said.
"Yah!" Jarrod yelled to his horse, kicking his flanks. Thunderbolt moved out of the way just fast enough.
A huge boulder fell to the spot where Jarrod and his horse just left. A dozen or so smaller rocks had joined in the rock's fall, creating a small avalanche. If Jarrod had still been there, he would have been quite flat.
"Are ye alright, Majesty?" the guard asked worriedly.
"Yes, yes, I'm fine," Jarrod said, brushing some dust off his sleeve, "thanks to you. What's your name, soldier?"
The guard straightened his shoulders. "Linden, yer majesty," he replied with pride.
"Well, Linden, you have the thanks of your king," Jarrod said. "Remind me when we return to Castle Fer Drewery to give you a proper reward."
"Thank ye, Majesty," Linden said, bowing from his horse.
"Shall we continue, Earl?" Jarrod asked Havara. "This accident has done nothing but whet my appetite. I am eager to reach the castle."
"Of course, Majesty," the Earl replied. They continued on their journey.
As they travelled through the little streets of Havara, Jarrod noticed that although the shops seemed well-kept, they still looked a little plain, as though the shopkeepers didn't have any money to spare. He made a mental note to ask Havara about this. Perhaps he was right, and it was one of the villagers behind the robberies.
"I'm sure my nieces have arranged for you every comfort," Havara said as they walked up the stone stairs after giving their horses to the groom to look after.
"I am quite anxious to meet them," Jarrod replied.
Iphigenia burst into Fiona's room as Fiona sat by her window crocheting. It was a lovely white cap for Daphne's head. She had already finished Elizabeth's in brown for their coming birthday.
"He's here!" she burst out, coming to look out the window. Fiona was lucky enough to have a window at the front of the castle and she quite enjoyed watching the comings and goings of the common folk.
"Oh?" Fiona replied, not telling her sister that she had been watching the king for nearly the entire time he was in the town. She couldn't see much, just that he was tall and blonde.
"Don't tell me that you've just been sitting at this window and haven't seen him," Nia accused. She picked up Mittens and began to stroke her head.
"I've been crocheting," Fiona began, but she could feel the blush creeping across her cheeks at getting caught.
"Ah-ha! You have been watching him!" Nia crowed. Fiona scowled.
"I just wanted to know what he looked like," she defended herself.
A knock at the door interrupted Nia's next words.
"Yes?" Fiona called, putting down her hook and wool.
"Lady Annabelle called everybody ta tha table, milady an' milady," Elsie said from the door.
"Thank you, Elsie," Fiona replied, brushing the wrinkles out of her grey dress.
"Let's go meet him, Fiona," Nia cried, grabbing her hand.
"I'm coming, I'm coming," she laughed, forcing her sister to go slower.
They reached their customary seats at the table just before the herald announced the Earl and the King.
"Your majesty, may I announce my nieces?" Havara asked. The girls moved into a line.
Jarrod counted. There were only nine women in the line. He was about to mention that fact when the eldest stepped forward.
"Bernadette sends her deepest regrets at not being able to be here," the dark haired woman announced. She wore a dress of the deepest purple.
"The eldest," Havara announced, "Annabelle." She curtsied as her name was said.
He gave her a nod.
"Cassandra." Another brown haired woman stepped forward and gave a curtsy. This one wore a dress of light pink.
"Daphne and Elizabeth." The twins, both with stunning red blonde hair and dresses of different shades of blue, stepped forward and bowed.
"Fiona." A girl with reddish brown hair stepped forward and curtsied. She wore a modest dress of grey, unlike her brighter coloured sisters.
"Genevieve and Harmony." The second set of twins stepped forward. One wore a forest green frock, and the other a yellow that looked almost gold against their dark hair.
"Iphigenia." A blonde girl in a red dress stepped forward and curtsied.
"And, finally, Josephine." The youngest girl in a dress of pale purple curtsied to him.
Jarrod's neck was starting to get tired from all the nods he was giving.
"Your Majesty," Annabelle said with a curtsy, "welcome to our castle. If you have any questions or are in need of anything, do not hesitate to ask. Fiona or I will give you all the assistance you need."
"Thank you kindly," Jarrod said, watching the girl named Fiona. She kept her eyes downcast.
Fiona was trying not to look at the king. He looked much bigger up close than he had through the window. Out of the sun, his hair looked like rich amber, a beautiful golden colour that had just the slightest curl in it.
And his eyes! They were a deep, deep brown, bordering on black. A girl could drown in those eyes. No wonder he had such a rakish reputation with a visage like that. Women would no doubt have thrown themselves at his feet.
Fiona almost giggled at the image of women literally throwing themselves in front of him, but managed to swallow it and keep her face calm.
They sat for dinner. Fiona took her normal helping (which she couldn't help noticing was twice what her sisters took) and concentrated on her food as if it were going to run away.
After the second course, however, Fiona began to half-listen to the conversation around the table.
"Ten children," the King was saying. "However did your parents manage?"
"Well," Fiona answered without thinking, "as this isn't really the thing that one can plan, I imagine they were just persistent and lucky."
The entire table went silent. Fiona realized what she had said and wanted to slide under the table. Her face turned pink.
The king began to chuckle. Soon, the entire table was in laughter. Even Fiona had to laugh in spite of herself.
"I imagine your parents loved each other very much," he said, offering her an olive branch.
She smiled at him. "Yes, they did."
After that, dinner was easier.
Dessert was a beautiful marzipan castle, fully decorated with candy icing and small flags. Fiona thought it was almost too beautiful to eat, but gave in and had an entire tower.
After the dessert, the talking around the table flowed almost as much as the punch. Genevieve and Nia were holding a small debate over the different breeds of horses, and Cassandra and Annabelle were discussing fashion.
Jarrod, however, was distracted slightly from the conversation by the thoughts of the woman sitting a little ways down the table from him. Fiona had said little else that evening, but she had left Jarrod intrigued. It was rare a woman who could laugh at herself.
It was her smile that caught him as well. It was slightly lopsided, exposing a dimple on her left cheek. It was natural and charming and obviously not practised like Belinda's.
Jarrod almost jerked at his thought of his ex-fiancé. He mentally shook his head free of his thoughts and stood.
"I believe I shall retire," he stated calmly. "Would one of you be so kind as to show me to my quarters?"
Fiona stood slowly, noticing Annabelle's absorption in her conversation. "I will accompany you, your majesty," she said.
"Wonderful." He offered her his arm and she took it.
Fiona led the way. They walked down the hallway in silence, the only sound being their feet on the carpeted floor. Finally, they arrived at what would be his rooms.
The King turned and took Fiona's hand in his. Her heart beat a little faster in spite of her internal commands.
"Thank you," he said, kissing the back of her gloved hand. He gave her a little half-smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and entered his rooms.
Fiona felt a little unsettled. It wasn't the kiss on her hand, although that was nice, but rather his smile that haunted her steps all the way back to her rooms.
She wondered who had broken it. A past love? A death?
One thing was for certain. There was not a woman alive who could look at a smile like that and not want to fix it.