Star-Crossed Lovers: Chapter Seven

Darien returned to Earth feeling as if his heart had been rekindled like a fire having been put out by a storm. For at least five years now, he had been struggling to find a woman that he could potentially spend the rest if his life with. Well, in all technicalities, his parents had been making him struggle to find a woman. However, now their luck had paid off. He believed that he had finally found her.

He alighted out of the carriage with nothing but the Moon Princess on his mind. Her beautiful hair, her sparkling eyes and dazzling smile….

Unfortunately, his thoughts were rudely interrupted by the ever-insolent mouth of his younger brother. Michael was being supported, his injured foot off the ground, by both his parents, who were doing the best they could to move him around without causing him any more pain.

"I hope that girl gets sentenced to death!" The young prince shouted as his parents led him up the walkway to the castle. "She doesn't deserve life after what she did to me! The stupid, ugly wench!"

Now, Darien was neither a doctor nor a king (not yet, anyway), but he suspected that Michael was exaggerating just a bit. A princess hitting a prince in the foot with her shoe did not justify death, as far as he was concerned. His father seemed to agree.

"Well, I'm certain that her parents and Queen Serenity will deal with her enough," Robert assured his youngest son, making sure the boy's shoulder wasn't slipping from his grasp as he walked.

Quite predictably, the Earth King's explanation did not console his youngest son.

"I don't care!" Michael whined, reminding Darien much of a small child. "I'm a prince! I deserve to be treated better!"

"That you do, darling," Bianca agreed, but sounding to Darien as though she were quite annoyed with her son's constant protests and irritability. Darien certainly was.

Suddenly, before the four of them could reach the castle's entrance, one of the large doors flew open and out came Bernice clad in a little white dress and shoes, looking like the beautiful angel she was.

"Mommy! Daddy! Darien! Michael!" she shouted, running towards them with her little arms outstretched. She found her father first and made an attempted to jump into his arms.

Darien almost screamed in protest when he realized what Michael would do to her if she caused him to lose his balance.

But, before he could say anything, it had already happened. Bernice had caused Robert to stumble and drop his hold on Michael, who let loose a fusillade of curses and screams at his younger sister as his foot hit the ground.

"Now, Michael, quit it!" Bianca rebuked her son with a stern look while attempting to support him as her daughter began crying and cowering in fear. "She didn't mean it. She's just happy to see us."

"That doesn't give her the right to jump on me like some crazy dog, especially when I have a hurt foot," Michael shouted, his face red and pained.

"She had no idea you had an injury, Michael," Darien told his brother sternly, scooping his teary-eyed little sister up into his arms and kissing her. She buried her little face in his shoulder. He could feel her tears staining his suit. "You shouldn't yell at her like that."

"I don't care," Michael retorted, still gripping his mother. "She's a horrible little sister. She deserves it."

At that comment, Robert became more enraged than Darien had ever seen him. Then, Darien got a wickedly evil idea. Darien lunged forward and attempted to stomp on Michael's "injured" foot.

"Darien," Robert, realizing exactly what the Crown Prince was attempting to do, gave his eldest son a warning look and pulled him by the arm away from Michael with some amazing dexterity.

Darien scowled and noticed immediately the smirk on Michael's face. He can't be injured that badly. At least not for this long.

And that had to be the truth. The boisterous Martian princess had stomped on Michael's foot two days before, and the swelling had subsided completely. He was definitely capable of walking on that foot by now. As always, Darien had to assume, his younger brother was just craving attention in another bad manner.

"But, Daddy," Bernice protested at her father's warning, clinging to Darien's neck. "Michael's being mean. He needs his foot stomped."

"No, he doesn't," replied Robert. "What he needs is some time alone."

"Yes I do!" shouted Michael in agreement, although sounding more as though he were agreeing with his father as a way of slapping him in the face. "I don't need to be around any of you."

Again, Darien suspicions were correct. Michael was, figuratively speaking, smacking his father in the face.

Both Robert and Bianca let out simultaneous sighs. Neither of them seemed to want to put up with Michael anymore. And Darien, for obvious reasons, didn't blame them. Michael had to be the most disrespectful teenager he had ever known.

+*+*+

"I can't believe—I mean, there's no way…."

Ever since Raye had returned to the Moon the day before, all she could talk about was Michael and how insulting he was, and it drove Serena and the other Scouts crazy.

All five of them were in the library, Lita and Mina sewing, Amy reading, Serena sitting in her favorite spot by near the window, and Raye doing nothing complaining her head off.

"Honestly, Raye," said Lita, now very annoyed, "you should just be happy that it wasn't one of my brothers who insulted you." She pulled her legs onto the sofa and stretched them out. "They would have beaten your self-esteem to a pulp."

"Yes, Raye. It's not that big of a deal. There are plenty of other boys out there," Mina agreed, attempting to yank a stubborn thread out from the under side of her cross-stitch.

Raye let out a condescending gasp, her eyeliner running down her cheeks from all the crying she had been doing.

"But, no boy has ever acted like that," she sobbed brokenly, acting to the others like a baby.

"Well, maybe that's a wake up call for you," said Amy. Her tone would have sounded harsh to any other woman, but for Raye, it quite deserved. She did not turn her eyes from her book once as she spoke. "Not all men are going to be nice to you, a princess or not."

Raye responded with a loud hmpf, and buried her face in the cushion of her chair.

"Don't do that, Raye," Lita warned, "Queen Serenity won't be happy if you stain her furniture. She's already quite unhappy with you now."

Now, that was an understatement, and all of the girls, including Raye, knew it. The Moon Queen was absolutely furious with Raye for the scene that she had caused. Her parents had even threatened to take away Raye's right to be a Sailor Scout if she did not apologize and promise not to commit such acts in the future.

The conversation went on for another ten minutes, Raye doing nothing but gripe defensively and sob into her cushion. Serena could have cared less, however, about the conversation, or even her mother's furniture, for that matter. For although she heard what the other girls were talking about, she did not listen. Her mind was still wrapped, as it had been for the past two days, around Prince Darien, the young man she had met at the ball.

She stared out the window, directly at the beautiful Earth, Darien's home. How marvelous would it be to live there with him, she thought, as she noticed the ever-changing clouds, blue rivers, and green lands. If only she could see him again….

Then, she came upon an idea, which would have seemed like a simple one to anyone else, but to Serena, it was a marvel. She could write him a letter! Surely, he would respond and be willing to consent to meeting with her again, that was, being that he had mutual feelings for her as she had him. But, of course he did. She had seen it in his eyes that entire night.

But, then, a horrible thought came to mind. What if it was a tick? What if he were playing her for who knows what? Serena had heard of that happening to woman—and to men as well—who thought they had found true love. Her palms grew sweaty and her stomach turned.

Maybe I shouldn't rush it, she thought, trying to go with her gut instinct. Unfortunately, she had so many conflicting thoughts; she wasn't exactly sure what her instinct was.

What if he was no better than his brother? He had treated Raye like garbage, (which was a conflict for Serena on its own. He had said some rude remarks both to and about her, but somehow, Serena thought, Raye had deserved it.)

But, yet again, Darien already was better than his brother. He had not treat Serena as though she were nothing more than a slug, but had been polite and gentle, and had danced with her with such generosity. And first impressions were always good, as Queen Serenity had told her daughter time and time again. Well, unless the said person who was doing the impressing was really trying to trick the one he or she was impressing.

But, still. Serena's brain was doing a tug-of-war and she hated it. It was pulling her back and forth with these two ideas. She had to make a decision. Really, she had no idea what Darien's intentions were, but the best way to figure them out, was to get to know him more….

Finally, after about what seemed to be twenty minutes, but was in reality only about thirty seconds, Serena had made up her mind. She would write to Darien, asking him to meet her again somewhere, but, wherever that meeting was, she would make sure the Scouts (even Raye, unless she refused, which, with the way things were at the moment, was possible) were near.

Politely, she hopped off from the window and bade the other girls excuse her, and left for her room.

Upon arriving, she closed the door and took out some parchment from her nightstand, dipped her quill in ink, and began to write.

+*+*+

The room was completely dark, despite it only being around four o'clock in the afternoon. But, that was due in large part to the fact that the curtains over the windows were drawn, exactly the way Michael liked them.

His foot still ached, despite it having been almost two days since that stupid Martian girl had shattered it. And she called herself a princess!

Then, bratty little Bernice had to go and knock him over, making his foot feel even worse. If she hadn't have done that, then it probably would have felt a lot better by now. Michael couldn't believe her stupidity! He had gone about his whole life wishing that she was not his biological sister, or better yet, that she had never been born. But, now, the feeling was more profound than it ever had been before.

He sighed in anger just as he heard a soft knock on the door to his room.

"What is it?" he shouted angry.

He heard the door open, and turned his head to see who the intruder was. With aid from the light coming in from the hallway, he could make out Juanita, clad in a red dress and her black hair in a bun, carrying a tray of food and water.

"I'm not hungry," he said gruffly, scowling. "Leave me alone."

"Yes, Your Highness." Juanita's voice was trembling slightly. "But, your mother requested that I stay with you in case you were of need."

"Really?" Michael asked incredulously, raising his eyebrows. Now, that was a first for his mother. He would never before have believed her capable of sending someone to look after him in his time of need when she had her two angels to take care of. Letting out a scoff, he thought, she probably did it to look like she cares. She can't leave a hurt child with nothing, now, can she?

"Yes, she did," Juanita responded, her voice gone quieter. She walked over to the nightstand and placed the tray gently over next to Michael's oil lamp. "But, if you're not hungry, sir, I'll just leave your food here."

"Whatever," said Michael, wanting nothing more than his maid to go away and leave him at peace and away from the rest of the world. "Just go away. I don't need your keeping. I'm fine."

Juanita hesitated a bit, but before Michael could get a word out, she walked to the door, bowed to the young prince, and closed the door behind her.

Good riddance, Michael thought as soon as she had gone. He let out another sigh and rolled over, ready for a long nap.

End Note: I really hope y'all liked this chapter. It took me forever to write, I've been so busy these past couple of weeks. Please review and provide me with some analysis. I do love analysis! Happy Fourth of July to all you Americans!

Beaucoup d'amour à tous,

Amélie