Disclaimer: I cannot think of one now. Just look in the previous chapters for one.
A/N: I decided to write this one without any help. I know it is short, but after I wrote Chapter 5, I just had to take chunks out of it, so you won't kill me for my wordiness.
Stolen or Taken?
By: Meaningless Colours
Chapter 5: Classy moments
"Richard, are you feeling well?" his dark-haired sister asked.
"Yes. Perfectly well." Her royal highness, Flavia MaCuinn of the United Kingdoms wrinkled her nose in distaste.
"You reek!" Richard ignored her and continued to pour the contents of the bottle directed into his mouth. "It's not as if you never heard of a glass," she muttered, knowing her brother would not pay attention to her. At times like this, her anger was always overcome by pity for her older brother. She had thought Laurel was her friend, that she would never do anything to hurt her. She demanded to know whether or not Laurel was just ignorant or was she intentionally hurting Richard. Every time Flavia tried to approach Laurel, Laurel always found a way to evade her. Not this time though. The Duke of Newcastle had arranged a ball at his famed estate and knowing the Duke, he would summon Laurel and she would be there.
"Richard, go clean yourself and make yourself presentable. We're going to visit Laurel." Richard face brighten at the sound of Laurel's name and went to the bathroom without questioning his sister. It was like his ears pricked up at the sound of her name. Like a stallion with his rider. Disgraceful. Today, Flavia would make it all change. There will be no more scopes for 'U.K.'s Rich and Famous' about how a British royal was brooding over the Duke of Newcastle's daughter. No Richard will have to understand the facts and regain his standing in society. Her brother came out in his best attire complete with ceremonious medals, a smile on his face. There was a knock on the door and a maid came in.
"Your Highnesses, Her Majesty is waiting at the door." After delivering the message, she stepped out, not forgetting to curtsy. Richard was about to sprint down the grand staircase like a boy on his first Christmas before he received a sharp jab in the ribs, courtesy of his sister.
"Mind your manners. You don't want the world in wildfires about how you were so eager to see the Duke's daughter." The Duke's daughter. That stung, Richard and Flavia knew it. It was a way of letting her brother know that Laurel and her were no longer on familiar terms.
Looking out her bedroom window, Kaho could see many limousines drive by. All in the same direction, too. Laurel's assistant, had called earlier, telling Kaho Laurel had a family emergency and that she would not be able to see Kaho today. Kaho had sighed with relief after hanging up.
"Kaho! Are you ready yet?" She looked at Eriol, puzzlement splashed on her face.
"Why are you dressed up?"
"Kaho, didn't I tell you that we were invited to Robert Seer's annual ball?"
"You know the answer to that, Eriol Hiiragizawa!" Next thing she knew, Eriol had dragged her out of the library and into her room.
"Let me think. Let me think." Throwing open her closet, he walked in and started to fling potential outfits onto her satin covered bed. "Red. No. Amber. No. Black. No. Gray. No. Ugh! Kaho, a hand?" Kaho got into her walk-in closet and calmly looked for something to wear. "Green! No. Half of the people are going to be wearing that."
"How about this?" Kaho said holding up some gauzy material. The midnight blue silk appeared almost black. It enhanced her pallor, yet she was unsure about her hair then it struck her. Eriol had given it to her for her birthday this year. Then she remembered. This was Laurel's father's ball and that would mean Laurel would possibly be there. Panic laced and had managed to weasel its way into her blood.
"Kaho. Are you feeling well?" Thank goodness for Eriol. Tonight she would use him as an anchor to prevent herself from being swept away by panic's current.
So tonight, she was going to be named duchess. At her father's annual ball too! Goddamn it!! Silently ranting throughout her suite, she did not here the persistent knocking on the door. Frederick entered, greeted by a flying pillow in the face. Wow. Prefect Miss Laurel was throwing a tantrum. A smile crept slowly onto his face to be wiped off with flying pillow number 2.
"LAUREL STOP IT!" he yelled over "Per la gloria d'adorarvi" which was blasting through her hidden stereo. He grasped her wrists to emphasize his meaning of "Stop it" only to find himself flat against the wall. How could he forget that this girl could fight? Then this girl was 172 centimeters and not in a good mood.
"Thank you Frederick. That felt much better." She didn't seem to notice that he was not feeling any better in his rumpled suit and 'broken bones.'
"You sure do," he said sarcastically. She laughed. Laughed. When was the last time she did that?
"Okay. Out! I have to tidy up and so do you," pointing at the mauve stain which was the result of her flying wine glass. "Bye, bye," she adding in a singsong voice, ushering him out. "Olivia!" The maid came rushing into Laurel's mess, stepping right on the wine stain with a sickening squish. Laurel winced.
"Yes, my lady."
"Tidy up and fetch Beatrice to help me dress."
"Yes, my lady," rushing out after a quick curtsey. Heaving a big sigh, she took out the emerald dress that her father had given to her an hour earlier. Running her hands over the stones that were sewn on, she remember what it was for. Beatrice had finally arrived when Laurel had already put the dress on and was fumbling for the jade buttons behind her.
"My lady, you should have waited for me," she said doing the buttons herself. Laurel's small waist was squeezed tightly as Beatrice made a swift job of the buttons. Laurel sat down on the plump velvet cushion in front of the vanity mirror, allowing Beatrice to put her slippers on. Fastening the silver bracelets to her wrists, Laurel opened the red velvet box that was given to her by her mother four years ago. Every time, it never failed to stun her. Lifting the large choker, she set it around her neck, hooking the silver clasp behind her neck. "You look beautiful, my lady."
"Yes. That's what everyone tells me."
"Come, my lady. It is time." Gathering her wits and courage, Laurel Crysania Seer, stepped onto the red carpet and faced the moment.
A/N: "Per la Gloria d'adorarvi" is a seventeenth and eighteenth century Italian song. It is just ironic how you could throw a tantrum with that on. It just doesn't match. I am currently concentrating on Laurel's part, so she can fit in right for Kaho's big shock. The big shock is not the fact that she will see Laurel again, but it has to do with one of the original Cardcaptor group. I want to portray Laurel as someone who is normal. She has fears, she is just extremely good at hiding them.