Chapter Four
It was every girl's dream to descend the grand staircase, but it was not Alanna's. Her dream was to kneel in front of the throne and feel a blade touch each of her shoulder's. Her dream was to survive the chamber of ordeal, her brother had told her so much about.
That dream would never come true, but she had been yelled at, pampered and taught for the past seventeen years for this moment, and she would prove her Daughter of the Goddess was right not to have given up on her.
Her dress was a perfect ball gown, lavender in color with golden threads the neck line. She enjoyed wearing it, no matter what her dream was. Her gloves went to her elbows and they would come off when she ate, they always did. Her hair was piled neatly in the back of her head eyes framed with golden powder, face with a lead base.
She was a vision. Or so said her Lady's Maid.
Thom greeted her and lead her to the table where they sat. She smiled and looked around, thinking. Thom had sent her a letter months ago stating that when she came to court, she would have to wed. She was nothing really the sister of a baron, a perfect title to be a spinsters.
Delia joined her, as Thom went away to sit by his Knight master, and to serve on him if need be. Delia was smiling happily at all of the eyes on her. "Is this not the most wonderful place?" she murmured and looked around. Alanna nodded, for once agreeing, finally a place to work her talent.
"Better than the City of the Gods at any rate," she whispered, before taking a small bite of her dinner, trying to eat slower than Delia. Delia was a slow eater, a lady like bird, but Alanna had goals on making her look like a cow.
Dancing came later than expected. There was Midwinter festivities to attend to first. The king and queen, attempted to jump over ashes that were set across the floor, and everyone clapped. Since the death of their son, it was rare to see them out at all, and her Majesty was growing weaker and weaker. Roger hugged his adoptive father and mother, smiling happily as he led them back to the table. They would not dance, the king announced it. The queen had bad knees and her health was failing.
The prince danced with Delia, as if to spite her. It mattered not, Alanna walked back towards the curtains and smiled. She looked down, and saw feet. With a laugh, she knocked on the wall, and opened it.
"Hello," she whispered an pushed the curtain back, smiling at a large knight. He was a tall monster, compared to her. "Might you be Raoul of Goldenlake?" she asked, a smile spreading on her face.
The tall knight nodded and smiled. "I am," he explained. "And you've found my hiding spot, Lady Trebond…" he smiled. "You look different than how your brother described you." Alanna laughed and looked up at him, laughing and waiting for him to smile in return.
He did and bowed. "Since you found me, oh fair lady, may I have this dance?" Alanna nodded, happy to have found a dance partner. They danced and she thoroughly enjoyed herself, even if her partner's eyes trailed over to Delia and they were filled with lust and his eyes sometimes fell to Alanna's breasts.
In fact, it made her smile, it gave her more to work with. When the dancing was over, she looked to Delia who seemed… radiant. Raoul walked her back to her wing and she laughed at him, and smiled into his Midwinter's kiss. It was polite, and he obviously wasn't attracted to her.
Alanna felt as through a friendship might be in order, and it was a good feeling. Good to have an idea that she could talk to someone other than Delia.
He left her there, and she watched Roger come with Delia, as was polite. He kissed her hand goodnight and watched her leave, well aware of Alanna standing in the shadows. She had taken a leaf from Raoul's book, and found it was practical to hide sometimes.
"She's different," he whispered, and turned to Alanna, a grin growing on his face. "Is she not? Not what one would expect from a convent girl." Alanna shrugged and walked out, facing the crowed prince. "Nor are you," he stated, as an after thought. "No one would expect a convent girl from the stories, or the spunk from a convent girl." He slip a finger under her chin, smiling.
Alanna took in his looks, loving them, and the power he wielded, all were entrancing. Her better judgment told her to stay quiet, and she listened to it. His lips touched hers again, and a satisfied smile was on his face. She hadn't pulled back, to him, that meant he could use her. She was a small girl entranced by his looks.
Stupid, she thought and smiled. Alanna bowed her head, turned and walked away into her room.