Wow, um, sorry for kind of just dropping off the face of the earth as far as this story goes. I got into darker themed stories/plots and knew better than to try and force myself to write something that is much tamer even if not always rainbows and butterflies. lol And I promise you, Chartreuse is a real color. It's something between a green and yellow. Sounds super fancy though am I right? lol Anyway, I hope you enjoy it. Cedric is fourteen, Roland is sixteen, and Charlette is seventeen.
Goodwin takes his children to the castle again and again. This particular time it is specifically upon King Roland's request. He teleports the three of them and they wait faithfully for Roland to appear. It takes but a minute and the king and his two children come up from the castle. Matilda is as cheerful as ever. Roland the Second, on the other hand, looks most sullen.
"Good morning, Goodwin." Roland nods to his friend. He manages a small smile, but the light does not reach his eyes.
Goodwin smiles with much more sincerity than Roland. "Hello, old friend. What seems to be the problem?" He tilts his head ever so slightly.
Roland glances over at his son. "It's just…my son," He sighs and shakes his head. "It's time he pick his future queen and he is being most uncooperative."
Charlette goes rigid. Her eyes widen and her heart skips a beat. Roland…dating? She barely stifles a gasp at the pain it elicits in her very bones.
The prince rolls his eyes and sighs. "I told you." He looks pointedly at his father. "These girls just aren't what I'm looking for. They're all so…" He flips his hand about. "Plain." He smirks in Charlette's direction. Because inherently there isn't a thing wrong with the eligible princesses, most of them anyway. The only problem is none of them are her – Charlette.
Charlette breathes out, a little heavier than she intends. She starts and hurries to compose herself. She puts on a neutral face, but she can not keep the flicker of a smile from her lips at the words she hears clearly beneath the ones the prince spoke.
Cedric spies his sister's stages of fear and then sweet relief, all so fast and fleeting that only someone really looking could notice. He glances at their father and just as always he is oblivious. It won't be long now though, with Roland being forced to choose a bride. It is time for the two of them to let each other go and move on into the roles they were destined to occupy.
King Roland groans. He runs a hand over his face. "Listen to him," He waves a hand at his son. "Saying a princess is plain. Plain is the garden variety in the towns – those little peasant girls."
Prince Roland glares at his father. "Just because they aren't rich doesn't make them plain. Just one of those 'peasants' is probably more special than all the princesses in the world combined."
Charlette doesn't consider herself a peasant, but she smiles to herself nonetheless. Her heart flutters and a far off look enters her eyes. Moreover she has magic. That is pretty special, even if it is no more than commonplace to her in this life she lives.
Roland shakes his head. "You are unbelievable."
Goodwin frowns thoughtfully. He studies the prince, noting the twinkle the boy has forgotten to hide and the upturn of his lips and even the way he stands straighter than many times before. Plus the way he spoke of 'peasant girls' just now was rather telling. "Yes," He strokes his beard. "This is something we should definitely talk about." He walks away from his children and over to the king. "Shall we go?"
Roland passes one last scrutinous gaze over his son before he nods. He begins to walk back toward the castle, his mind focusing solely on his son and not at all on the girl across from him who is the true source of all the conflict. "So what do you think?"
Goodwin glances over his shoulder to make sure the children are not listening. "Your boy, it seems he is infatuated with someone."
Roland jerks to attention. "What!?" He clears his throat and composes himself. He keeps his voice even as he says, "Are you sure? Who do you think it is? And for how long? Can we break them up? I mean," He half laughs. "We have to. But do you think he will let her go willingly?"
Goodwin motions his hands downward. "Easy, Roland." He smiles knowingly. "I don't know. I just saw it – just now – in his eyes. When he spoke of peasant girls being more unique than princesses."
Roland gasps. Realization lights in his eyes. "My God. You're right." He hits the bottom of his clenched fist against his open palm. "I knew something wasn't quite right. He never seemed to have even the tiniest crushes on the princesses at his school, not even when he was younger. I almost thought…" He grimaces and shudders.
Goodwin bursts out laughing. "No, no. None of that my friend." He sombers quickly. "But that long? Really?" Goodwin presses his knuckles to his lips. "Could he and this girl…have been together all these years?" Worry shines in his eyes.
Roland's heart stops dead. "That long?" The very thought chills him. He shakes his head, trying to rid himself of this terrible dread settling on his shoulders and twisting the expression of his face. "And I never knew?" His brows knit together.
Goodwin frowns despite his efforts. "Don't worry." He sets a hand on Roland's shoulder. "We'll figure this out. And we'll fix this. Surely some peasant girl can be bought off if it comes down to it."
Roland finds it in him to smile. He nods. "Yeah, you're right. Things will work out. Yeah. Everything will be alright."
Goodwin knows the king says it more to convince himself than anything. For the odds are not in their favor. For it takes so much less than a year to fall in love, let alone all the years that the prince has had with this mystery girl. Splitting them up will be an adventure indeed.
Charlette looks after her father and the king until they are well out of sight. Only then does she relax and turn to face Roland. She smiles slyly and clasps her hands behind her back. "I hear the garden is starting to bloom. It should be especially irksome with all those blinding colors."
"And stupid meanings." He smirks at her.
"Yes, all those thousands of meanings." She wanders in the direction of the garden. "All completely ridiculous." Ridiculously lovely. For she still has the flower he gave her two years ago.
Roland follows dutifully after her. There is a bounce to his step that Cedric is not used to seeing. It is all and all bewildering.
Cedric stares after them. He frowns, contemplating whether or not to follow. He needs to keep tabs, to know just exactly goes on and how intense their relationship is. Then again, it surely hasn't changed since prank day last year. If anything it has strengthened. He grimaces. Man, this is not good.
Matilda walks over to his side to stand even with him. She follows his gaze, even though she doesn't have to to know what he is looking at. "It'll be alright." She says. She loops her arm through his and gives him a light hug. "When they need to they'll take their proper places in the kingdom."
Cedric sighs. "You really believe that?" He looks sadly at her. "After all these years? Don't you think they might…you know…run away with each other?"
Matilda blanches. She quickly gathers the pieces of her scattered mind and puts a smile on her face. "Silly, Cedric." Her gaze softens. "Roland knows his place. So does Charlette." She nods. "It won't ever come to that. They won't ever do that to their kingdom."
Cedric looks up and in the direction the pair disappeared. He lets out a breath. He can only hope she is right, just like the years before – the first time she said the same thing. Only now there is a fear, a deep pit in his stomach. He can scarcely believe it. It is the hope of a fool, a fool who only wants the best for his sister.
Charlette lays stretched out across the stone wall, one arm dangling and her finger tips just grazing the ground. Her head lays in Roland's lap, her hair splayed out. She tilts her head upward to stare at his face. She smiles, a soft, infatuated sentiment. "You have such a nice chin." She giggles. She reaches up and traces his jaw with her fingers.
Roland chuckles. He runs his fingers through her silky hair. "I know."
Charlette frowns and shoots him a sharp look. "Modest as ever you jerk." She swats at him.
Roland catches her by the wrist. "I try my best." He draws her up and leans over to meet her halfway. He kisses her.
Charlette freezes. She stares blankly ahead, but not at him. Her brows furrow and her eyes swim with doubt.
Roland pauses. He breaks the kiss and sits straight. A frown plays across his lips. "What's wrong?" He knows he can be a bit full of himself, but he has never hurt her before. At least he doesn't think so.
Charlette sighs. She sits up and twists around so that she faces him. She folds her hands together in her lap. "Roland…what are we doing?"
Roland blinks. "What do you mean?"
Charlette shakes her head. "You know what I mean." Her shoulders slump and she bows her head slightly. "This is crazy. We're crazy. This thing, it can only end badly. I'm your sorceress and you're my king." Her voice is suddenly tiny as she says, "At least that's how it's supposed to be."
Roland grimaces. He hasn't forgotten. Not for a moment over these years. "Charlie," He unwittingly resorts to her nickname. By now it is instinct. "I can't love anyone else." He strokes her hair. "I don't even want to try."
Charlette's cheeks redden. "Idiot." She leans her head against his shoulder.
Roland presses his lips to her temple. He breathes in her scent – cherries with a dusting of dirt, as always. "Your idiot." They've come this far, they might as well enjoy what they have for the sliver of time that is left.
A smile flits across her lips. "And no one elses…"
…
Week after week the king and royal sorcerer hand pick princess after princess and shove them at prince Roland. He shuffles through them, one after the other. He barely passes a glance at any of them, only half listening as the girl of the day tries to make conversation and catch his eye. Some are interesting enough, but none are good enough. They don't have that spark. It doesn't affect anything with him and Charlette. She never is there when the princesses are. Until one day.
His father sets up a date on a day when Goodwin decides to show up along with both of his children – most importantly Charlette. "But I don't want to father." Roland grumbles. He crosses his arms in a huff. "The sorcerer's kids are coming and I want to hang out with them, not some girl."
The king narrows his eyes. "No, you will do no such thing. You are going to go out with this lovely young lady and you are going to like it." He gives a single firm nod.
Roland scoffs. He looks hard at the wall. "Whatever." His dad may be able to force him into the company of these princesses, but his dad can never control the way he feels. No way.
The girl arrives shortly after, her eyes shining and her smile bright. But Roland is too intent on paying her as little mind as possible to notice anything else about her. Her words float in and out of his head and he only responds enough so that she won't whine about being ignored. His thoughts, however, are always on one person – Charlette.
Goodwin teleports himself and the children to the castle. It is a trip as simple as breathing and Cedric can't believe it ever bothered him. Today though he almost wishes it did. He was always out of it for a good minute back then and missed a chunk of conversation and action. Now though, now he must watch the scene play out in all its horrifying glory.
The king, Roland, and Matilda all walk up together, just like always. Only this time the prince is not alone. A girl struts along at his side. She can't seem to take her eyes off of the boy or keep her hands to herself. Every other word she lightly touches his shoulder or his forearm or anything she can reach. She doesn't seem to notice either, but Roland leans away from her touch each and every time.
Charlette's blood runs cold. She goes stiff. Fear leaps to the surface of her eyes and her mouth gapes slightly. In a heartbeat the shock transforms, her lips twisting into a snarl and a fire lighting in her eyes. She clenches her fists and grinds her teeth.
Roland huffs out a breath. He averts his eyes, looking anywhere but at Charlette. He can't believe his dad did this. It makes him wonder if perhaps he knows and is torturing him for his wrongdoing. But then again, his father was never the subtle type. If he knew, then the whole world would be told.
Cedric looks back and forth between the pair. They aren't even trying to hide it at this point. Their disdain is so obvious it hurts. He shakes his head and returns his gaze to the princess. She wears a dress like every other princess he knows. Hers stands out thought because it is not what he considers a traditional color. Hers is something between a green and yellow, an almost sickening shade. Yet on her it only seems regal. Her posture is impeccable, her hands folded in front of her in those rare moments where she isn't touching Roland. Her blond curls rest on her shoulders and complement her dress magnificently, no doubt the whole reason the color of the dress is beautiful rather than sick.
She shifts her gaze to look at Cedric through slitted eyes. Her brows raise on her head.
Cedric starts and swallows hard, a noise that sounds much louder in his ears than it should. Such intense blue eyes. He has never felt so judged in his life. He can't even bring himself to wave at her.
Goodwin smiles over at the princess. "And who is this lovely lady?"
She flashes him a smile, a stage smile practiced day in and day out for instances just like this. "Chartreuse." She curtsies. "And may I say what an honor it is to meet the renowned Goodwin the Great."
Goodwin chuckles. "It's a pleasure to meet you too."
Charlette sticks her tongue out. What a conceited name. Chartreuse. It makes her want to gag. Only her father would definitely hear that.
"I'm just so glad to be here." She giggles. She leans over, unfolding her hands in order to twine them around Roland's arm. She rests her head against his shoulder and peers up at him. She flutters her eyelids, her eyelashes kissing her cheeks and bringing out the blue in her eyes all the more each and every time.
Roland rolls his eyes. The same as all the rest. Trying to win him over with charm or whatever. Ridiculous. Can't any one of them act like real people instead of china dolls? Are al royals so shallow?
Charlette's blood boils. She growls deep in her throat, but she makes sure to keep it quiet. Then it hits her. A smirk curls her lips and she reaches down into her pocket. She slowly draws out her wand and tilts it ever so slightly, pointing it at the girl's feet. "Apparuit rana."
Matilda covers her mouth with her hands as she snickers. It's obvious to her, but she wonders if either of the adults realize Charlette just cast a spell.
The frog hops forward and ribbits.
Chartreuse gasps at the sight of it. Her eyes widen, and her mouth becomes a small circle.
Charlette grins wickedly. This is it. Just as she planned.
Chartreuse laughs. "Oh, look Roland." She detaches from him and bends over, cupping her hands. She sits them just in front of the pudgy frog. "A cute little frogie." The frog bounces into her hands and her whole face lights up.
Charlette blanches. What? No. No way! It's textbook stuff. Princesses are supposed to hate frogs!
Matilda is taken aback. How odd. This princess, she isn't like the rest. That's for sure.
Roland blinks. He tilts his head and stares curiously at Chartreuse.
Chartreuse pops up, holding the creature close. "There are only three things I love more than anything in the world – diamonds, dresses, and frogs." She strokes the frog's head. She jerks her head up and looks at Roland. "Don't you think Roland?" She shoves her hands out toward him.
Roland grimaces and puts an arm up to guard himself from the vile creature. No, most certainly not. Still, it is different. She is different. Most girls would shy away and even scream at the mere sight of a frog. A little less than a china doll perhaps, but not enough. Still too fake.
The king notes the tiniest of shifts in his son and he can't keep himself from grinning. This is it! This could be the one. He clears his throat. "Now, why don't the two of you run along and play." He waves them off.
Matilda skips forward. She seizes Cedric's hand and tugs him away from the others.
Goodwin sees the intent in his daughter's eyes and acts in a hurry. He wraps his arm around her shoulder. "And you, why don't you go with your brother today? Instead of picking on the poor prince." He shoots her a sharp look.
Charlette glares back. "I don't wanna play with those babies."
Goodwin scoffs. "Matilda is the same age as you. And Cedric's your brother, you can't not like being around him." He pushes her in the direction Matilda took Cedric. "Now go on."
Charlette grinds her teeth. "You suck." She stalks off, throwing one last fleeting look over her shoulder toward Roland.
Roland catches her eyes and offers a smile, but it is more weak and desperate than reassuring.
Chartreuse slips her hand around Roland's and guides him in the opposite direction of the other three. "This will be fun, won't it Rollie?"
Roland's hair stands on end and a chill races up his spine. "Don't. Call me that."
Chartreuse scowls up at him. "What's up with you?" She crosses her arm.
Roland shakes his head. "Nothing. I just don't want to do this is all. I don't want a bride."
Chartreuse scoffs. "You mean you are already in love with someone else."
Roland cringes. "Don't be ridiculous." He shoves his nose in the air and looks as far away from her as possible. If she looks in his eyes then he knows she will see the truth. Women have that uncanny ability.
Chartreuse blows out a breath. She sneers. "I knew it. The way you kept ignoring me. I just knew it." She takes her hand back from his and clenches it. She realizes how improper it is and quickly folds her hands together in front of her and straightens.
"It's nothing personal." Roland glances back at her.
"Yeah, sure." She wanders ahead. She keeps going, refusing to go back even though she does not know where the path leads. Only a minute later she finds herself in a garden with all the colors of the rainbow. The vibrancy fills her senses and she can practically taste the colors. The tension seeps from her and she wanders over to the concrete wall in a daze. She sinks down upon it and stares off into space.
Roland finds her a moment later. He tilts his head as he contemplates her. Like this, framed by the flowers and wrapped up in the beauty of it all, she appears much more natural. Almost real. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"
Chartreuse nods vaguely. "Yes…" She reaches out and plucks a rose from the flowerbed. She rolls it between her fingers. "It is the symbol of love." She spreads her fingers and lets it fall. She catches it mid-fall, clenching her hand around the petals. She squeezes hard, crushing the delicate petals. She glares across the garden at him. "The symbol of all that can never be." She opens her fist and the crumpled petals flutter to the ground, their crimson shade all that is left of their beauty.
Roland sighs. "Come on, I told you it wasn't personal." He makes his way over to her and stands only a foot in front of her. "Actually, you're the most real of all the princesses my father has forced onto me."
Chartreuse raises a brow. "Real? What's that even supposed to mean?"
Roland shrugs. "I dunno." He takes a seat next to her. "You don't react the way the others do. Like with the frog. And you just, you aren't perfect."
"Hm." Chartreuse picks at one of her fingernails. "So your girl's a simple one, huh? A village rat." She notices him bristle and she clears her throat. "I mean, she is, uh, more down and dirty."
Roland rolls his eyes, but a smile twitches at his lips nonetheless. He can't help but be amused by her attempt to recover. "Not exactly." He twiddles with his fingers. "She's just…different." He can't believe how good it is to talk about his secret, even if he must still hide the fact it is Charlette.
"If you say so." She never did see the value in village people, especially not village kids. Whatever he sees in this mystery girl she wishes she could possess it. To be on the arm of the future king would be a prize indeed. But in the end she is sure she won't even need it – whatever it is. If it is anyone less than royalty their bad romance won't last. For kings don't marry commoners, especially not when they are the son of Roland the First. The kingdom far and wide knows his opinion on that. It's completely out of the question to say the least.
Her words fade and silence sets in. It stretches minute by minute until it begins to take root in the very ground. It is unsettling to him and so Roland sighs. "You don't have to stay if you don't want to." She is clearly bent on giving him the cold shoulder anyway. Might as well not be here at all.
"No," Chartreuse shakes her head ever so slightly. "I'll stay." She gives him a sly grin. "Wouldn't want daddy thinking another date went awry, now would we?"
Roland bows his head and frowns deeply. She knows his situation all too well.
"So I'll play my part." She waves her hand about flippantly. "I'll be your 'girlfriend' and I'll keep your father off your back."
Roland raises a brow and eyes her dubiously. "And just why would you do that? I hope you aren't expecting some kind of reward."
Chartreuse shakes her head. "Nope. Nothing like that." A mischievous glint shines in her eyes. "The illusion is good enough to me."
Roland dead pans. "You're serious? You just want the acclaim of being 'the one the future king picked'. So I'm just a prize to you."
"It's sad, isn't it?" She puffs out her lip in a mock pout. "Realizing your own worth."
Roland seethes. "Witch."
"Cutie." She pats him on the cheek. "So do we have a deal?" She extends a hand to him. She looks his dead in the eye.
Roland glares at her offering and then at her. Still, he can't deny how perfect it is. It is almost like a dream – an escape from all this pressure. "Yeah," He grips her hand and shakes. "Sure, whatever."
"You will have to go out with me sometimes though, you know." She looks hard at him. "You have to make it believable that we are together." She sees him about to snap back, and so she quickly continues, "I'm not asking you to make out with me or even kiss me. Just know that people who are dating see each other more than just once."
Roland sighs. Unfortunately she is right again. "Yeah, yeah. I get it."
"Good." She rises to her feet. "Ta ta." She plucks another rose from the patch and threads it through her hair. Then she walks away. Only then does she allow a soft, genuine smile to pass her lips. She won't lie, not when it's to herself, she wouldn't mind having him to herself and as more than a prize. Because despite her words he is so much more than that. He has the potential to be all any girl could ever want, even her.
On the opposite side of the castle, Charlette sits alone. She pretended to follow Cedric and Matilda and Cedric, but veered off as soon as she got the chance. So now she sits beneath a lonely dogwood tree. Petals litter the ground around her, a blanket of pink beneath her. Petals float down with each gust of wind and give her the illusion of floating in a pink world. She sits with her legs drawn up and her arms resting across them. She broods over this turn of events. Her father is interfering already, and he doesn't even know what's going on. And for the first time she realizes just how little time she has with Roland. Even as she had preached to Roland about their roles as sorcerer and king she had only half believed it. It was her father talking, not her. Now though, now things are serious.
She sighs. She casts her eyes downward. Is there no hope? The thought seers her mind and she only wishes she could banish it. If only there was a way. Then it hits her. She sucks in a sharp breath and jerks her head up. Her eyes widen and for a moment she holds her breath. She runs through the plot in her head. But it takes no more than a second. It was never a question to begin with. Her eyes shine, determination swimming in their depths, and a smirk curls her lips. That's it. She knows what she must do now. If they are found out, if they can't give each other up even after all this time, then she knows exactly what she will do. She can only hope he feels the same.
I thought as fancy as the color Chartreuse sounds, why not make it a fancy stuck up royal's name. lol I hope it worked. I was a bit worried it wouldn't sound much like a name to anyone else even though I like it. By the way, if she reminded you of someone then that's good. ;) If not that is fine too. Doesn't matter either way. I just hope you liked it. Please review!