Bah! I'm sooooo sorry, I broke my promise, chrischelle, I didn't thank you
last chapter (, I'm soooooooooooooooooooooo sorry. And a-HEM! Thank you,
thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank
you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,
thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank
you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,
thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank
you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,
thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank
you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,
thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank
you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,
thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. You are the second person to
review. Thank you for crying on by behalf!!! * Hands you a handkerchief
and pats you consolingly on the shoulder*
My Thanks to Kaio, my faithful reviewer who has thus far been with me through THICK and thin. And yup, Bram is interesting...can you spell trouble? Mysterious... didn't think of it like that. But if you think so, that's good, very good.
Anyway, I thank my silent readers who obviously have had their fingers amputated or else they would review! It's alright, I pity you and I'm sure that in time you will learn to type using a pencil in you mouth ;) I have faith in you all. Now, on with the sho..... Oh OH! Yes, this (the plot, characters, and places) ALL belong to ME (aren't you all jealous)! Ahem, NOW on with the show!!!
Another reviewer!!!! *dances around in glee* Ahahahaha, showed you nonreviewers. Mwahahahaha. 'kay enough evil laughter. Thank you, chrischelle, and I accept your offer of a cookie. *mouth waters before she brushes it away* I'm hoping that it won't be short, but I've been told that my chapters were too loooooooooong. So, I guess it's my call, but personally, I like longer chapters, gives more substance.
Abby and Keosha sat on the large bed that would be Abby's as the servant plaited her friend and mistress' brunette hair. Abigail was reading a letter that Sophia had written and given to Keosha to stow in Abby's trunks. She smiled at Sophia's attempt at anger towards her friend. Sophia was truly happy for Abby and the noblewoman knew it. She finished the letter, folded again, and held it up to her nose, breathing in the soft scent that was barely there. Sophia's scent. The letter smelt of the new cosmetics that were circling the country nobles, cow's udder cream and dandelion oil.
Keosha finished with Abby's hair and turned so Abby could return the favour. She noblewoman also turned and brushed Keosha's soft black hair. The black girl relaxed for the first time since Abigail had been called into her Father's drawing room. Her worries over the carriage ride to the capital and getting settled in the palace were brushed out and away along with her stray hairs. Abby plaited her hair slowing and loosely. Keosha sighed and stopped her. She half turned her body and observed Abby's apologetic face. Usually Abby plaited quickly and tightly, using the talent that Keosha had taught her well. But today she was unlike herself.
Abigail never got sick or developed a headache while riding her horse or in long carriage rides. She was hardly ever fatigued after a journey, she never had honey in her tea, and she always plaited quickly and tightly. Now she had a small smile on her face as her friend plaited her own hair. Keosha raised an eyebrow at her. He friend's eyes were an aquamarine that she had never seen before and her cheeks were pink with embarrassment.
"Now, what, or if I'm correct, who are you thinkin' about?" Abby looked startled before saying in a low tone,
"I'm thinking of a tall, handsome nobleman, whose manners run away from him at times, and whose touch I still feel." Abby swung around to view her friend's face. Keosha had a startled look on her face as she repositioned the noblewoman's head. She kept her voice carefully neutral as she commented,
"That sounded rather poetic, are you sure you've not come to join the Arulanthian Bardic School? I hear they've some openin's." Keosha finished her plait before plaiting her own hair. She continued cautiously,
"Abby, you know it's unlikely you'll ever be seein' Sir DeBracey again, doncha? He's probably a remote lord, a travelling knight. You'll most likely find that any talk of him is bad, most dashin' young men aren't as wonderful as they seem in first light." Keosha watched as Abby's head tilted upwards in defiance. The auburn- haired girl's shoulders stiffened as she replied in a clipped tone.
"You never even met him, Keosha, you've no right to make judgements about someone you don't know. I think he was a real nobleman, and if you choose to oppose me, I'll be forced to remind you that you are paid for you servitude and companionship, not for you advice or opinions." The girl's voice had gotten steadily angrier and more displeasured. There was a silence in the room. The silence that deafened the two girls consumed the room and Abigail turned on the bed to find her maid staring at her in disbelief. Abigail opened her mouth, desperate to explain, to apologise, or to plead for forgiveness. But Keosha held up her hand, stopping her. Abby's chest constricted and she felt the introduction to tears begin to prick her nose and her eyes. She bit her lips to abide by her friend's wish for silence and looked down, waiting.
Keosha stood and walked away from the bed. The horror she had originally felt at Abby's pablum of vexation had faded and she felt the self- comforting glow of anger had taken its place. Keosha gripped the porcelain vase on the table and plucked a flower from it, holding it delicately in her hand. She examined it before ruthlessly crushing it in her fist. She whirled around to begin her tirade, but something stopped her. A tiny reminder of an old mistress, beating her orally for a mumbled comment tapped her on her mental shoulder, causing the pause. She looked down at the small, crumpled flower in her hand at tilted it so the juices dripped slowly off. Keosha lifted her eyes and met Abby's. The eyes that met hers were repentant and horrified. The disgust she evidently felt at her own words was shining in her now blue- hued eyes. Keosha sat on the bed beside her, and said slowly,
"You did not mean what you said, I know this. It would go completely against your character to say such a thing and truly mean it." Keosha lifted her dark eyes to her friend's and she watched as tears filled Abby's eyes. She watched until her own vision began to blur with tears of pain and relief. Her friend did not mean it. Abby had always looked upon her serving woman as a friend, rather than a maid. She was sweeter than most nobles, Keosha knew. This one outburst came not from true anger, but rather frustration at her predicament. She had met a seemingly wondrous man, only to be whisked away on a long journey, dazzled by the market place, pushed onward to the castle, met by a nameless man, then had the man she romanticised about insulted and doubted. Keosha mentally shrugged before continuing,
"You knew that you probably wouldn't see him again." Abby nodded and said in a wobbly voice,
"Yes, but to have it put in such terms as you did, it made me feel worse by ten fold. I can't believe what I said to you. It was unforgivable," There was a tiny pause before she continued, "You'll probably forgive me, in fact it seems as if you already have, but I know you'll never forget. How could you? I feel worse than awful, I feel like I just ripped out your still- beating heart and laid in out infront of you. I feel so disgusted with myself; it's like I oughtn't to be even speaking to you. I feel like the lowest ant, I can't even begin to make amends, Keosha."
Her friend had been nodding through her apology; she took Abby's hands in hers and looked her in the eyes.
"The bite of the tongue is often worse that that of a blade. Always remember that no matter how angry you are, ventin' your anger at someone who isn't the cause is askin' for trouble." Abby nodded and they sat awhile in their own thoughts. They sat there until Keosha quietly noticed the time, and bid her mistress-friends good evening. Keosha went to her adjoining room and fell asleep quickly, thinking only of her concern for her friend.
Abby stayed up long into the night, gazing into the glowing fire, often brushing away tears.
My Thanks to Kaio, my faithful reviewer who has thus far been with me through THICK and thin. And yup, Bram is interesting...can you spell trouble? Mysterious... didn't think of it like that. But if you think so, that's good, very good.
Anyway, I thank my silent readers who obviously have had their fingers amputated or else they would review! It's alright, I pity you and I'm sure that in time you will learn to type using a pencil in you mouth ;) I have faith in you all. Now, on with the sho..... Oh OH! Yes, this (the plot, characters, and places) ALL belong to ME (aren't you all jealous)! Ahem, NOW on with the show!!!
Another reviewer!!!! *dances around in glee* Ahahahaha, showed you nonreviewers. Mwahahahaha. 'kay enough evil laughter. Thank you, chrischelle, and I accept your offer of a cookie. *mouth waters before she brushes it away* I'm hoping that it won't be short, but I've been told that my chapters were too loooooooooong. So, I guess it's my call, but personally, I like longer chapters, gives more substance.
Abby and Keosha sat on the large bed that would be Abby's as the servant plaited her friend and mistress' brunette hair. Abigail was reading a letter that Sophia had written and given to Keosha to stow in Abby's trunks. She smiled at Sophia's attempt at anger towards her friend. Sophia was truly happy for Abby and the noblewoman knew it. She finished the letter, folded again, and held it up to her nose, breathing in the soft scent that was barely there. Sophia's scent. The letter smelt of the new cosmetics that were circling the country nobles, cow's udder cream and dandelion oil.
Keosha finished with Abby's hair and turned so Abby could return the favour. She noblewoman also turned and brushed Keosha's soft black hair. The black girl relaxed for the first time since Abigail had been called into her Father's drawing room. Her worries over the carriage ride to the capital and getting settled in the palace were brushed out and away along with her stray hairs. Abby plaited her hair slowing and loosely. Keosha sighed and stopped her. She half turned her body and observed Abby's apologetic face. Usually Abby plaited quickly and tightly, using the talent that Keosha had taught her well. But today she was unlike herself.
Abigail never got sick or developed a headache while riding her horse or in long carriage rides. She was hardly ever fatigued after a journey, she never had honey in her tea, and she always plaited quickly and tightly. Now she had a small smile on her face as her friend plaited her own hair. Keosha raised an eyebrow at her. He friend's eyes were an aquamarine that she had never seen before and her cheeks were pink with embarrassment.
"Now, what, or if I'm correct, who are you thinkin' about?" Abby looked startled before saying in a low tone,
"I'm thinking of a tall, handsome nobleman, whose manners run away from him at times, and whose touch I still feel." Abby swung around to view her friend's face. Keosha had a startled look on her face as she repositioned the noblewoman's head. She kept her voice carefully neutral as she commented,
"That sounded rather poetic, are you sure you've not come to join the Arulanthian Bardic School? I hear they've some openin's." Keosha finished her plait before plaiting her own hair. She continued cautiously,
"Abby, you know it's unlikely you'll ever be seein' Sir DeBracey again, doncha? He's probably a remote lord, a travelling knight. You'll most likely find that any talk of him is bad, most dashin' young men aren't as wonderful as they seem in first light." Keosha watched as Abby's head tilted upwards in defiance. The auburn- haired girl's shoulders stiffened as she replied in a clipped tone.
"You never even met him, Keosha, you've no right to make judgements about someone you don't know. I think he was a real nobleman, and if you choose to oppose me, I'll be forced to remind you that you are paid for you servitude and companionship, not for you advice or opinions." The girl's voice had gotten steadily angrier and more displeasured. There was a silence in the room. The silence that deafened the two girls consumed the room and Abigail turned on the bed to find her maid staring at her in disbelief. Abigail opened her mouth, desperate to explain, to apologise, or to plead for forgiveness. But Keosha held up her hand, stopping her. Abby's chest constricted and she felt the introduction to tears begin to prick her nose and her eyes. She bit her lips to abide by her friend's wish for silence and looked down, waiting.
Keosha stood and walked away from the bed. The horror she had originally felt at Abby's pablum of vexation had faded and she felt the self- comforting glow of anger had taken its place. Keosha gripped the porcelain vase on the table and plucked a flower from it, holding it delicately in her hand. She examined it before ruthlessly crushing it in her fist. She whirled around to begin her tirade, but something stopped her. A tiny reminder of an old mistress, beating her orally for a mumbled comment tapped her on her mental shoulder, causing the pause. She looked down at the small, crumpled flower in her hand at tilted it so the juices dripped slowly off. Keosha lifted her eyes and met Abby's. The eyes that met hers were repentant and horrified. The disgust she evidently felt at her own words was shining in her now blue- hued eyes. Keosha sat on the bed beside her, and said slowly,
"You did not mean what you said, I know this. It would go completely against your character to say such a thing and truly mean it." Keosha lifted her dark eyes to her friend's and she watched as tears filled Abby's eyes. She watched until her own vision began to blur with tears of pain and relief. Her friend did not mean it. Abby had always looked upon her serving woman as a friend, rather than a maid. She was sweeter than most nobles, Keosha knew. This one outburst came not from true anger, but rather frustration at her predicament. She had met a seemingly wondrous man, only to be whisked away on a long journey, dazzled by the market place, pushed onward to the castle, met by a nameless man, then had the man she romanticised about insulted and doubted. Keosha mentally shrugged before continuing,
"You knew that you probably wouldn't see him again." Abby nodded and said in a wobbly voice,
"Yes, but to have it put in such terms as you did, it made me feel worse by ten fold. I can't believe what I said to you. It was unforgivable," There was a tiny pause before she continued, "You'll probably forgive me, in fact it seems as if you already have, but I know you'll never forget. How could you? I feel worse than awful, I feel like I just ripped out your still- beating heart and laid in out infront of you. I feel so disgusted with myself; it's like I oughtn't to be even speaking to you. I feel like the lowest ant, I can't even begin to make amends, Keosha."
Her friend had been nodding through her apology; she took Abby's hands in hers and looked her in the eyes.
"The bite of the tongue is often worse that that of a blade. Always remember that no matter how angry you are, ventin' your anger at someone who isn't the cause is askin' for trouble." Abby nodded and they sat awhile in their own thoughts. They sat there until Keosha quietly noticed the time, and bid her mistress-friends good evening. Keosha went to her adjoining room and fell asleep quickly, thinking only of her concern for her friend.
Abby stayed up long into the night, gazing into the glowing fire, often brushing away tears.
