"The Pianist"
~Chapter Five~
Katniss (Ekaterina) - Pretty name. And my answer to you question is "Yes".
"I want a party." Sharpay Evans says, looking at her perfectly trimmed nails as the servants massage her feet. Her brother, twin brother; younger by at least twenty minutes; looks up from his parchment and stops his quill in it's place.
"And what reason is it for you to want to have a party, sister?" Sharpay smiles, looking up from her nails and to her brother.
"My darling, Brother...the reason to have a party is that we both turn of twenty years-" Ryan, all green eyes and sarcastic wit about him, tilts his head and scrunches his eyebrows together. His lips pursed in a fine line as if he is deep into some thought; it's also the same face he gets when he is engrossed in some fantastic book or scroll...
"That was...last week, I think," he scratches his stubbly chin and then nods slowly, "yes...a week ago. You want to throw another birthday celebration?" Sharpay smiles, standing up, and her pink gown billowing from her hips and gathering in pools at her toes; her blond hair up in a style that only the Spanish would do...then again, Sharpay has always been one to try new...styles be it hair or clothes.
"What ever reason do we need otherwise?" She is smiling huger, her eyes shining brightly and her words trilling with excitement. No one can say 'no' to her, then again...no-one's ever dared to. She shrugs her petite shoulders limply; her blond bangs framing her face as she takes her oh so dainty steps, her fingers knotting together as she closes her eyes; envisioning their palace's grand ballroom decorated in ribbons of pink, Sharpay's favourite colour, and green- Ryan's. She'd invite her friends; mostly since, she always assumes that Ryan doesn't have any. "There'll be a band; striking a waltz for everyone to sway to...oh! And a table of a delicious banquet- for those who only come for food."
"Sister who does that?" Ryan says, slightly apalled, Sharpay rolls her eyes.
"How about that girl whose completely smitten with you? What's her name..? Smoley...Samanly...Holey...something.."
"Samantha." Ryan says, shaking his head and going back to concentrate on his roll of parchment. "And she's not smitten-"
"She ogles you like you're made of sweets, Ryan!" She yells, waving her arms around frantically like a mad woman. Ryan rolls his eyes, attempting to pay his sister no mind.
"What is the real reason behind this party, Sharpay?" he inquires, his tone mellow and mono. Sharpay narrows her eyes and shakes her head in exasperation; grabbing her brother's tunic by it's lapels and glaring into his eyes.
"I can't throw a bash for no reason?" Ryan, unfazed by her sudden hostility, shakes his head and pulls out of his sisters surprisingly strong hands. "Yes...we need a reason-"
"I do not!" She says a little too loudly, "and mainly because my motivation is to a certain noble prince that used to rule the kingdom with his family-"
"The Boltons?" Ryan asks incredulously, his brows raising and eyes widening as he regards his hair-brained sister. "What do you want with their son?" Sharpay scoffs, waving a hand in front of her face and shaking her head as she twirls her fingers about her perfectly curled hair.
"I'm old enough to marry...so is their oh so darling son..I think I'd be a suitable bride-something funny, Brother?" She cocks an eyebrow at him and crosses her skinny arms over her chest. Ryan clears his throat, trying to distort his laughter...and he fails at the task of doing such a thing. Sharpay scoffs and marches from the room, going to the garden that was full of ...well, weeds this time of year. But in the Spring it is full of flowers of every kind; well, nearly every kind. Roses, peonies, tulips, wildflowers, tiger lilies...it was truly an enchanted forest from the tales of the Grimm's brothers whenever a person or persons walks into the beautiful place on the palace grounds.
Soft, caressing music floats down the stairs to the dining room. Gabriella can't help but allot herself a smile as she listens, the plate in front of her full of a bounty; her stomach growls for the delicious tastes to invade her mouth as the smells make it salvate and the steam arises from the plate; but as the plate is so full of food and she's hear enjoying the bounty, she thinks of her family...who probably has nothing this morn- or practically nothing, her father has always managed to catch some form of food; even from the forbidden forests just behind the Evans' castle...she knows he knows she knows he hunts there but neither refuse to say anything to anyone, so they both pretend that neither of them knows nothing of such things taking place. "So..." says the woman, the incredibly kind noble woman who loaned her the silk gown she's wearing; it feels heavenly against her skin. "What is your name, Child?"
She dips her head low, blushing scarlet; she's hated introducing herself. Her mother's always done it for her..."Gab...ella.." she mumbles, the woman looks at the man- who bears a striking resembles to his son. The young man who accepted her help earlier...his eyes much bluer than his father's though; she idly wonders if it's him upstairs playing, perhaps one of the servants running around has a talent for music?
"Darling," the woman kindly says, "what was that you said?" Biting her lip, she looks through her lashes at her, and then down at her finger nails. Serfs must never nobles or royalty in the eye. Her mother always says to her. Always answer clearly when they are speaking to you. She swallows nervously and frees her plump bottom lip from her teeth.
"Gabriella..." she whispers softly, and more clearly. Her fingers, tan and slim, knot together on her lap.
"Well," the woman says, "I'm Lorana Bolton." Gabriella shoots her head up, her eyes wide- well, the side as wide as it can go ever since the...accident with wolves when she was a child. And when Lorana notices her face, she can't help but gasp. "Oh Darling, your face...what-what's happened?" Gabriella swallows and looks down, she hates it when people notices her face.
It's cause she hates the pity they all throw her way.
"Lorana," her husband says, grasping her hand and sending a sympathetic look at Gabriella before looking at his wife. "You've embarrassed her...let's eat our meal and let her explore-"
"David, you can't pretend not to be concerned about h-"
"It happened when I was very young." Gabriella says softly, causing the two to look at her. For the longest time they just look at her, expecting her to further explain but she doesn't. David clears his throat and looks once again at his wife, Lorana has a hand over her bosom and a sorrowful look on her face.
"Oh my-what happened?" She asks, David rolls his eyes and sputters into his cup before looking at her with a knot in his brow.
"Honestly!" He scolds, "Lorana, you can't ask that of her if she clearly doesn't want to explain!" Lorana glares at her husband and crosses her arms over her breasts.
"I'm just concerned for her!" She yells, her voice raising and soon it becomes a screaming match between the married couple. Gabriella bites her lip, not wanting to interrupt them and tell them that she is, in fact, still in the room while they are fighting about her; she opts for standing up slowly and then tiptoeing her way out into the foyer- where the music seems to float down at a much grander - louder - scale. She feels every muscle tense and then visibly relax. Her eyes trained on the stairs, she takes one step toward the blissful sound.
Make that three steps.
Five.
Seven.
Ten.
At the top of the stairs, the music surrounds her head and she finds herself being pulled by it toward the door where she helped their son find. Where he kissed my hand, Gabriella thinks as the back of her hand burns from the tingles his lips have left behind. She reaches the door handle, curves her fingers around the intricate carvings of it, and then-
The music stops, her hand is yanked away from the door when she runs the other way, down the stairs and into a room that should've been locked...but isn't.
The satchel isn't large, but it's not small either; it's just the right size for a man Gregor's height with the broad shoulders and large muscles. Beside the satchel are the essentials for traveling in the woods; food - a delicious spread of bread and butter and broth in a wood bowl with a cloth cover. A canteen of water, he'll be sure to stop by the creek when he stops for the night to camp. He stuffs his clothes on the bottom, then the food and then a blanket over that. The canteen is hooked on to the pocket that the missus had sewn on a few years ago.
"Are you sure about this?" Gregor turns his eyes over his shoulder, seeing his wife in the doorless entry to their room. Really examining her, his brow creases; she's too plae and her eyes a too shallow and dark. She's almost...frail looking.
"You look like you need rest." He says strictly, why didn't he notice how she looked before? "You look ill."
"Pish," she says with a wave of her hand, walking over to him and wrapping her arms around his neck; her fingers swimming through his hair. "I feel better than I have in a long time-"
"I know how you feel," he whispers, stopping his packing and wrapping her in his arms; kissing her neck and whispers against her skin. "But it's how you look that bothers me- you look ill." She sighs, a smirk on her face that disappears when he lifts his eyes to hers.
"I'll rest a lot while you're away. It's your safety I'm concerned for." Gregor laughs, leaning his forehead on hers and running his fingers through her hair and kissing her lips softly.
"I'm looking for Gabriella, and when I find her I vow to you to bring her back in one piece. Safe and sound. Where she should be." Marina smiles sadly, kissing his lips softly.
"Just be safe, my love." He smiles sadly back at her, his eyes mirroring her own.
"I vow to you, Sweeting. My word is as good as the day we married."
What did I tell you? I'm cranking out chapters for this story like crazy! What do think of the story so far?
~ Elena xxx