Jonathan sat in his room, head in his hands. Now you've done it, he lectured. You've lost her to a misunderstanding! He couldn't bear to think that Alanna wouldn't be around anymore. Even if she didn't want him to court her, couldn't she at least be his friend? No, part of him said. You could never just be friends with her. You love her He couldn't love her. He had only known her a few days, a week at most! But she's just like Thom, only female. And you've known Thom for six years. And he talked about her all the time. It was getting very confusing, with all the voices in his head saying different things. He could hear his parents telling him not to be foolish, that he could never marry her anyway; Thom telling him not to get involved, Alanna was too complicated; Gary and Raoul being jealous; and then his own, quieter voice, telling him that if he thought he loved her or could love her, to go after her, no matter what anyone thought.
He remembered what had actually happened. Alanna had only seen Delia kiss him, and he assumed she hadn't heard anything.
"Who is it?" Jonathan called.
"Delia,"
a voice replied, low and husky and flirtatious.
"Come
in," he said. Delia walked into the room and shut the door, but
it opened a crack. She didn't seem to notice. He rose from his desk
and kissed Delia's hand in greeting. "Lady Delia, what a lovely
surprise."
"I'm
sure it is," Delia replied, grabbing his gaze. She walked toward
him, so close that if she had leaned in just enough, she could have
kissed him. "Listen, Jonathan, I've been thinking." That
can lead to nowhere good, Jonathan thought.
"About
what?" he asked innocently. Delia toyed with her skirts in a
girl-ish manner. If she thought he liked her being coy, she was dead
wrong.
"We
had such a wonderful time dancing together the other night,"
she replied, and looked back into his eyes. "And I really like
you, Jonathan." She drew a line down the center of his chest. He
pushed her hand away.
"Stop
that," he scolded. "I don't like it." Delia did it
again, a teasing smile playing at her lips. "I mean it, Delia.
Stop. Don't test me."
"All right," she replied with a pout. "But, Jonathan, really. I know you like me." She drew closer, and Jonathan stepped back.
"Delia,
I think you have the wrong idea," he said. Delia shook her hair,
brown hair spilling around her shoulders. She walked closer so she
was as close as she had been before he stepped away.
"Be
realistic, Jonathan. I know Alanna may be intriguing, but she is
nothing but a flirt. She breaks the hearts of men and thinks nothing
of it. She knows nothing of love, though she says she falls in and
out of it on a daily basis!" Delia gave an un-ladylike snort.
"Now, I, Jonathan, know about love." She looked into his
eyes, and smiled. "I know that all a man wants is love."
Jonathan shook his head.
"You're wrong about her, Delia. You are," he said.
"Am I? I think I've known her a bit longer than you have, Jonathan. Once she discovered that the men flocked to her like bees to honey, she became flirtatious and shared many beds." Jonathan shook his head. Alanna wasn't like that.
"I
think you're wrong, Delia. In fact, I know you're wrong,"
he told her.
"And who says I'm wrong? Thom? What does he know? They haven't seen each other in six years. She's changed since she was ten, Jonathan." Delia was drawing closer and closer. "But I know a real man when I see one." She pressed her lips to his.
And that was where Alanna had come in. If only he could explain it to her. Tell her all the things Delia had said, tell her how he felt about her, tell her that he was almost certain he loved her.
Jonathan rang for a servant and one appeared. "Yes, your highness?"
"Could you tell Lady Alanna that I wish to see her?" Jonathan asked.
"I'm sorry, your highness, but Lady Alanna has left." Jonathan rose.
"What do you mean left?" he demanded, suddenly becoming very menacing.
"She's gone, ridden away. I don't know to where or when she's coming back." Jonathan sighed.
"You may go." The servant bowed and left quickly. Jonathan sat at his desk, and put his head in his hands again. Now what was he to do? Write her a letter? He snapped. A letter! That would be perfect…
Dearest Alanna-
No, that didn't sound right. She would take one look at that and throw it away.
Lady Alanna-
That was too formal. She had told him to call her Alanna, hadn't she?
Dear Alanna,
That was perfect. Every letter started with dear.
I'm very sorry about what you saw earlier with Delia and myself. I have to tell you it is all a big misunderstanding-
No. That was wrong. Too formal.
Alanna, what you saw before was a misunderstanding. I didn't kiss Delia; I don't want to kiss Delia, in any way. You're the only one I want to kiss-
How pathetic did that sound? He wasn't a wimp. He wanted it to be romantic, without being sappy.
I know you are upset with me, but I had to tell you this. There is nothing going on with Lady Delia of Eldorne and myself. She kissed me, Alanna. I wanted no part of it whatsoever. You came at a terrible time, and I apologize if you got the wrong idea from the situation.
He wasn't sure about that last line, but it would have to do.
Lady Delia was telling me all sorts of things that I believe untrue. She talked about how you are nothing but a flirt, and how you fall in and out of love on a daily basis. She talked about how many men's beds you have shared. I do not believe any of this is true, and I told her so.
Good. Best tell her the truth now, so she had a chance to deny the claims or admit to her wrongdoings.
I am very sorry that you came at such a bad time. I want you to know, Alanna, that even if you do not wish me to court you, I would like us to be friends. I want to be friends, even if you do wish for me to court you.
No, no, no, no, no! He couldn't come on that strongly!
I cannot apologize enough, Alanna, for what you saw. I am deeply sorry and wish there were some way I could make it up to you. I would like us to be friends, Alanna. We can ignore the events of the past few days, in the courtyard especially, if you wish, and just be friends, or we can continue where we left off. Or a combination of the two. It is completely up to you.
That sounded good. Give her the option of him courting her or leaving it at friendship, or starting as friends and becoming more.
Again, I apologize for what happened. I only wish that we could put it behind us.
Oh, he was good.
Your friend,
What if she didn't want to be friends?
Sincerely,
Who was he, his father?
Awaiting your reply,
Argh!
Always,
That was too romantic!
Yours to command,
What was that?
Jonathan
That was perfect. Just a simple closing with his name. Or should he go for the whole thing: His royal highness Prince Jonathan of Conté? No, maybe Jonathan was best. Or maybe Prince Jonathan? No. Just Jonathan. She would know who it was.
He copied the letter onto nicer paper, the special paper with his name at the top.
HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS PRINCE JONATHAN OF CONTÉ
Dear Alanna,
I know you are upset with me, but I had to tell you this. There is nothing going on with Lady Delia of Eldorne and myself. She kissed me, Alanna. I wanted no part of it whatsoever. You came at a terrible time, and I apologize if you got the wrong idea from the situation.
Lady Delia was telling me all sorts of things that I believe untrue. She talked about how you are nothing but a flirt, and how you fall in and out of love on a daily basis. She talked about how many men's beds you have shared. I do not believe any of this is true, and I told her so.
I cannot apologize enough, Alanna, for what you saw. I am deeply sorry and wish there were some way I could make it up to you. I would like us to be friends, Alanna. We can ignore the events of the past few days, in the courtyard especially, if you wish, and just be friends, or we can continue where we left off. Or a combination of the two. It is completely up to you.
Again, I apologize for what happened. I only wish that we could put it behind us.
Jonathan
Was that long? Oh, well. It would have to do. He folded it and slipped it into an envelope. He wrote her name in his precise way: Lady Alanna of Trebond. And sealed it with the blue wax. He imprinted the Conté insignia, marking it as an official royal document. That way she was sure it was from him. He sighed and considered kissing it. He decided that wouldn't be a good idea. He simply delivered it to her room, putting it where she would be sure to see it: in the middle of her pillow.
VVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVVV
As Jonathan was writing Alanna the letter, the recipient was sitting in the common room of the Dancing Dove. In the King of Thieves' lap, to be precise. And she was laughing, her head thrown back, and hair falling down her back beautifully. She fell against George, making him smile. Alanna was working on her first tankard of ale, and she was loosening up quite a bit. No longer was she acting like a court lady, but more like a lady of the Rogue.
She wore breeches, which hugged her shapely legs quite nicely. Much better than any dress could ever do. George wondered if Alanna knew that all the men were drooling over her legs. She hadn't worn a tunic, only a white shirt. It fell loosely after her breasts, making more men drool over her chest. While it was nothing compared to Rispah's, Alanna was hiding it more than the Queen of the Rogue. But the men didn't dare go near Alanna. First of all, she was a real lady, and second, it was fairly obvious that George had a soft spot for her.
"Another ale, milady?" the thief called Lightfingers asked Alanna, bowing to her mockingly. Alanna rose and curtsied.
"Its Alanna, Lightfingers, and no. I don't want to get drunk!" She laughed, but it was clear that the men wouldn't mind her drunk. "Just lemonade." 'Fingers groaned.
"Yer as bad as yer brother!" he prodded. Alanna smiled.
"We are twins," she replied. "But, would Thom have even had one tankard?" 'Fingers considered this and shook his head.
"No, I guess not," he decided and slammed his fist on the table. "Aye, Solom! Get th' lady a lemonade, ye old drunk!"
"Lightfingers," Alanna said lazily, reclining back against George, "do you have any right calling Solom an old drunk when you're drunk yourself?" He smiled.
"No, Alanna, I don't," he replied. "But I'll d' it anyway."
"'Fingers'll drink for anythin', Alanna," George explained. "Ye know, he drank for th' prince's birthday once." Alanna grinned.
"I wouldn't be surprised. I haven't been here long and he's found about five things to drink to!" The whole room laughed and Rispah came over.
"Alanna, d'ye want t' borrow one of my dresses?" she asked. "Or one of the other girls?" Alanna smiled.
"I'd like that, thanks," she replied, getting up. As they were about to go upstairs, Alanna turned and waggled her fingers. "Don't miss me too much!" She and Rispah laughed like old friends and went upstairs.
Marek Swiftknife looked at George and smiled. "Quite a lady ye've got there." George smiled as he watched the stairs.
"Aye, but she isn't mine," he replied.
"Yet!" 'Fingers laughed.
Author's Note- so, Happy Easter, everyone! Did anyone get anything good from the Easter Bunny? I got the Trickster books, which I already had, and a copy of them both together. We're returning to two, but I'm keeping the one (hello, easier to read!) and my mom is giving me the money to get different books, and 15 songs for my iPod to make up for it. I felt really shallow when I told her that I was disappointed, but she said it was OK. So… in your REVIEW, tell me what you got! (If anything)