Post by Princess Azabel de Somerville on Jul 23, 2008 22:38:46 GMT -5
Continuation from: terredange.proboards38.com/?board=peerpub&action=display&thread=3452&page=1
I spent the carriage ride with a wide smile on my face, ignoring the way my guards sat in sullen silence. I felt bad, knowing I'd frightened them, but the time I'd stolen with Delaunay was enough that I could look past it for a time.
When I got home I took my necklace and went to my rooms with it, sitting infront of my dressing mirror and looking at how it lay against my skin. A knock came to my door and I jumped at the unexpected noise, then stood, making my way to my door.
"My ladies presence is requested by her father." Damn - it was one of my guards. I took a deep breath and thanked him, giving him a long look as I walked by him. They'd told! Hells, I hadn't thought they'd say anything...
I made my way quickly, knowing my father was very likely quite upset with me. Opening the door to his study, I let myself in and shut it again, then walked forward to stand infront of him in silence.
It stretched on. He never looked up at me, merely continued writing as if I weren't standing there, occassionally dipping his quill back in the ink before going back to scratching on the parchment. At last he looked up and when he did I wished he hadn't; his face was cold and withdrawn, so very different from anything I was used to from him.
"Azabel. You know what you did was wrong on so many levels. You put yourself in danger, you worried Julian and Ignace. There are more than one pair of hands who would like to have a de Somerville daughter, a princess of the realm. And you snuck off." His face hardnened, and I fair shrank. "I thought you better than that."
"Papa," I began, trying to keep my voice from sounding exactly like it was: a protest. "Papa, it wasn't so bad as that. I... bought a necklace, and then went to lunch with a friend I met in the jewelry store." Color came to my cheeks at that, color I knew he saw by the way he looked at me. I hurried on. "He was with me the whole time, I swear Papa. I would never do anything to disgrace you, or put myself in jeapordy. But... I was safe..."
My voice fell fainter at the end, and I swallowed as he put his quill down. "What is his name?"
His name? "Prince Delaunay de la Courcel, Papa," I answered.
He nodded. I expected him to soften after I said it, to hear the Courcel name and realize I was fine, that I was in no harm. Instead though, he straightened his papers and stood, walking around his desk to stare down at me.
"You're forbidden to see him, Azabel. Forbidden, do you hear me? For your childish behavior, for putting your guards through it. Gods child, he barely has the right to call himself a man." He shook his head, sandy blond hair moving. "No. Forbidden." My eyes grew wider with every word he said, and when I opened my mouth to protest, he held a hand up, effectively cutting me off. "Forbidden."
My teeth clicked shut as tears sprang to my eyes, a sort of numbness sifting through me. He dismissed me and I tried to walk out of the room in a stately manner, but my feet felt more like flying than flowing.
Forbidden.
Forgive me, Delaunay...
I spent the carriage ride with a wide smile on my face, ignoring the way my guards sat in sullen silence. I felt bad, knowing I'd frightened them, but the time I'd stolen with Delaunay was enough that I could look past it for a time.
When I got home I took my necklace and went to my rooms with it, sitting infront of my dressing mirror and looking at how it lay against my skin. A knock came to my door and I jumped at the unexpected noise, then stood, making my way to my door.
"My ladies presence is requested by her father." Damn - it was one of my guards. I took a deep breath and thanked him, giving him a long look as I walked by him. They'd told! Hells, I hadn't thought they'd say anything...
I made my way quickly, knowing my father was very likely quite upset with me. Opening the door to his study, I let myself in and shut it again, then walked forward to stand infront of him in silence.
It stretched on. He never looked up at me, merely continued writing as if I weren't standing there, occassionally dipping his quill back in the ink before going back to scratching on the parchment. At last he looked up and when he did I wished he hadn't; his face was cold and withdrawn, so very different from anything I was used to from him.
"Azabel. You know what you did was wrong on so many levels. You put yourself in danger, you worried Julian and Ignace. There are more than one pair of hands who would like to have a de Somerville daughter, a princess of the realm. And you snuck off." His face hardnened, and I fair shrank. "I thought you better than that."
"Papa," I began, trying to keep my voice from sounding exactly like it was: a protest. "Papa, it wasn't so bad as that. I... bought a necklace, and then went to lunch with a friend I met in the jewelry store." Color came to my cheeks at that, color I knew he saw by the way he looked at me. I hurried on. "He was with me the whole time, I swear Papa. I would never do anything to disgrace you, or put myself in jeapordy. But... I was safe..."
My voice fell fainter at the end, and I swallowed as he put his quill down. "What is his name?"
His name? "Prince Delaunay de la Courcel, Papa," I answered.
He nodded. I expected him to soften after I said it, to hear the Courcel name and realize I was fine, that I was in no harm. Instead though, he straightened his papers and stood, walking around his desk to stare down at me.
"You're forbidden to see him, Azabel. Forbidden, do you hear me? For your childish behavior, for putting your guards through it. Gods child, he barely has the right to call himself a man." He shook his head, sandy blond hair moving. "No. Forbidden." My eyes grew wider with every word he said, and when I opened my mouth to protest, he held a hand up, effectively cutting me off. "Forbidden."
My teeth clicked shut as tears sprang to my eyes, a sort of numbness sifting through me. He dismissed me and I tried to walk out of the room in a stately manner, but my feet felt more like flying than flowing.
Forbidden.
Forgive me, Delaunay...