Tea
2196 Words
"There you are, Odette." Thomas' legs quickened their pace. "You've been summoned," he started, pulling a phone from the breast pocket of his blazer. "There will be tea and luncheon at 1 o'clock with your mother and an esteemed guest." He paused as my gait faltered to a stop in the hallway.
"How can she 'summon' me in the middle of a class period?" My eyes rounded with vexation. "Does she understand how attendance works?"
"I've already made my rounds to the office. They were about as happy as can be expected." He sighed, checking the watch on his wrist. "You have about an hour before we are scheduled to leave. Will you need time to freshen up?"
"No," I seethed. "If she wants me, this is how she'll receive me." Marching to my next classroom, I slammed my books upon the desk. The nerve of that woman.
"Geeze," Oliva murmured. "What's made you so hyper?" Her thick red hair hung in ringlets framing her round cheeks. Disdain dripped--as it naturally did--from her pores.
"My silly mother," I breathed. My entitled, interfering, obnoxious mother.
"At least yours pays attention to you," she nipped. "Must be nice." A raw carrot came from her bag. Crunching it between her teeth, her dead eyes gave me a look. "You could just ignore her," she said with a lifted brow.
"Like you ignore yours?" I shot back. "Thanks, but Charlotte would never stand for it. I'd be whisked away before you could say Bob's Your Uncle."
Madeleine breezed past us, her graceful gazelle-like legs ascending upon a seat next to mine. "Such vulgar language." She criticized. "Very unbecoming for a princess," she teased.
"Princess-schminsess." My cluttered bag failed to yield my favorite pen. "I wish so badly sometimes to just be a 'normal' person."
"Normal people can't attend school here," Oliva chirped. "You'd be out on your butt."
"She could win a scholarship," Madeleine half whispered, her eyes taking a forlorn look. "There are several scholarship students here."
"Like the boy we all know you're sneaking around with?" I prodded. "What's his name... Robbie?"
"How clandestine. Is he very rustic?" Oliva asked, her eyes showing a sliver of interest. There were only ever two things to make Oliva come alive: Gossip, or death.
"Shut up, both of you!" Madeleine lowly shrieked. "If my parents were to ever find out, I'd be back in France so fast..." She shuddered. The thought of her bloodline obsessed parents were enough to send shivers down my spine. They did little but talk about the purity of the blood running through them and their offspring. Much like breeders, they'd sell Madeleine off to the highest purebred player, and in their sick heads, they would have done their parental duty right by her.
"He is rustic," I added, coming back to the present. "Black hair, dark eyes, ruddy cheeks. Very novelesque. Two star-crossed lovers just awaiting the time when peasants and royalty can mix." I batted my eyelashes in Madeleine's direction. "The stuff fantasies are made of."
"At least I might get a choice one day!" Madeleine huffed. "Unlike you, whose life is already decided."
Oliva blew a breath. "Low blow, Mad."
Shrinking into my seat, I fumed. I knew what she was saying was purely to get under my skin, but I hated that it did. Like a caged bird, all I wanted was a taste of freedom that no one could take away. Every small chance I had, the taste had been bitter-ed.
Like today.
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Derek
Gulping around the knot in my throat, I stood waiting for Princess Charlotte to arrive and invite me into her sitting parlor. Always anxious in Buckingham, I stood with perfect posture, noting how stiff my muscles were. Failing to hide a grimace, my man approached. "Your Highness?" He questioned with a quizzical brow.
"It's nothing, Oscar." I managed a smile. "Just a little stiffness in my back." The man backed away slowly, but his pensive eyes never left my body. Rotating my shoulders, I hoped Charlotte would come soon.
And Odette.
Odettte.
The thorn in my flesh, and the pain in my side. Ten years we'd been betrothed? No. Fifteen? Birth? I couldn't keep count. She was the goosly-awkward preteen that'd smacked me in the face with a handful of baking soda.
She was also responsible for wrecking my motorbike when she was about thirteen. Oh, and she nearly killed me when she claimed to have German Measles, and tried to sneak away from a party with me still in the car! I hoped to God that she'd learned how to drive. How she didn't see me in the backseat with a certain...someone, I'll never know.
My hand came to the back of my neck, rubbing the impish pain away. Yes, Odette. My parents had saddled me with a wild one, that was for sure.
Seeing her the previous day though, had done something to me. I couldn't quite place the feeling. It was akin to... desire?
Guffawing, I hated myself for the ludicrousness of the thought. There was NO WAY I could react to her like that. If anything, I was intent on unnerving her, making her as keenly uncomfortable as possible. Annoy her, much like she'd done me.
But the way she had stood there in that awful pink tulle dress... My mind wandered. Her face had been captured perfectly by the bright lights of the room; her body had matured from the last time I'd seen her. No longer was the gangly youth of time past. Her blue eyes were deep and as piercing as they'd ever been. Her blond hair had a slight wave to it, with just the one strand loosely falling along her cheekbone. How I'd wanted to reach up and touch it--smooth it away from her features...
Gah, no. Heaving a deep sigh, I moved from the center of the room to the window, hoping for any kind of distraction. Any two-legged distraction. We were near the center of the house, so all I could see was the court yard, abuzz with the ant-like staff of this massive ground. There were men walking to and fro, busy with their tasks. Women in their black pant suits and on cell phones. It was much like Amalieborg Palace, with the museum and the guard. The constant feeling of living under a microscope.
"Derek," came the sing-song voice from across the way. "Oh, darling boy, how wonderful it is to see you." The mothering princess came forward, raising on her tip toes to clasp her hands on my shoulders. "Last night wasn't nearly enough of a catch-up. Come with me, here, and have some tea." She sashayed between the open doors, her chin up daringly as she motioned where I should sit myself. "Now, tell me," she began, looking to the tea service. "What's this business I hear?"
The tall carved doors slammed shut behind me. A small panic rose in my throat, similar to the feeling of claustrophobia. This was the moment I'd been dreading. The whole reason that I had accepted the invitation for this visit. The whole reason I had been FORCED to accept the invitation for this visit.
"Well," I shifted nervously in my seat. Of all days for my man to lay out another buttoned shirt. What was wrong with a good polo every once in a while? The stiff white neck tugged at my Adam's apple, making it harder to swallow. I wasn't sure how I was going to tell her. Did I just come out and say it? I couldn't bring myself to hold her gaze. "I have been seeing--"
"Her Royal Highness, Princess Odette," came the low announcement from the other end of the room. The doors that had signaled my entrapment just moments before brought a fresh bout of oxygen as the ornate blue and gold swung open to reveal the most breathtakingly beautiful girl I had ever seen.
OH, why did she have to have this effect on me? I was bound to be disturbed by her. But, not in this way...
I couldn't drag my eyes away, much like it had been the night before. She was captivating. A true, rare beauty. Her once slicked bun was askew from movement. Her sweater casually sloped off of one shoulder, baring her bronzed skin for my viewing pleasure. Her dance tights and skirt displayed her lean legs... The more I looked, the lighter I felt. l*****g my lips, I barely managed to rip my attention back to our hostess. I didn't want to look back at Charlotte. I wanted to drink in every ounce of my future wife.
"Derek," Odette said cooly, flopping onto the embroidered cushions of the settee. "Mother," she said, a fake smile plastered on her mouth. "You've summoned me?"
Charlotte cleared her throat, barely audible to the delicate ear. "Yes," she replied, her hand smoothing the seam of her pink pant skirt. "I thought we could take the opportunity of Derek being in town to catch up with him." Her eyes were sending messages that my brain could half decipher. If it had been my mother, they would have gone something like, "Sit up straight! Mind your manners! Look interested and pay attention!"
And just like that, Odette straightened rather rebelliously on the couch; her expression changing in a few coy seconds. "Yes, my darling Derek," she cooed facetiously. "Do tell what's been happening on the upper peninsula?"
Amused, I mustered up a small remark. "Our growing utopia is well, but nothing to compare to Britain's might." Diplomatic. Vague. Complimentary. All of the check boxes you need when talking to foreign dignitaries.
"Come now," Odette prodded. "We read the papers. We see the news. We could have told you that. How is ol' Margaret?" A smirk was on her lips. She was baiting me.
"My friend..." I silently corrected, "...is fine."
Taking a small sip from her tea cup, Odette leaned back into the arm of the settee. "That's not what I heard."
"Odette!" Her mother exclaimed. "Honestly. Excuse her, Derek. Someone has lost their sense of propriety!"
"Margaret--" I interjected, starting to feel the pricking of sweat against my hairline. "Is back in Germany, serving her crown and country..as she should be."
Odette snorted into her tea. "I bet that was an interesting conversation."
"Odette! Honestly!" Her exasperated mother shot daggers from her eyes, her body tense as she sat in perfect erection her seat.
Slinking back with a satisfied look across her features, Odette casually crossed her legs, her body sinking back. I could tell she had thought she'd won this conversation. She had not.
"Margaret never faltered when it came to social grace and accomplishment." I gently interceeded on behalf of my friend. "She was the picture of grace and poise. I am honored to call her friend." I couldn't quite tell what emotion splattered across Odette's red face, but it closely resembled jealousy if I read her right.
At least, I hoped that's what it was.
"In fact, you all may have seen her newly established charity. It supports the deaf communities across Europe. We're all hopelessly proud of her and all her accomplishments." It was true. She had exceeded all expectations from her youth.
The thoughts of her still panged deep in my stomach. She had been a first love, and a quick love. Something beautiful and wild that had bloomed in one summer and had faded with the fall. She would always hold a dear place in my heart, that I knew, but it wasn't what it once was. We were comfortable old friends now. Cheering each other from the sidelines. She knew I had a duty, as did I, and that had been that. I was all of 17, she was 16, and though love often produces folly, she proved wise beyond her years, stopping what could have been the most damaging time in my life.
Instead, she had ripped my heart open. Then placed balm on the open wounds to help it heal. I would be forever thankful for her. Two years had passed since then, and I could say now that there was very little romantic love left in my heart.
Especially when faced with the new conquest sitting in front of me.
Yes, I decided then.
With a slight smile on my lips, I was quite determined to make Odette Alexandria Charlotte Maria Bernadotte Cromwell fall in love with me.
- Writer
