A Meeting of Minds

[aria]

Warm sunlight washed over the the plush bed where Arabella slept peacefully, her red hair in waves across her white pillow. It was only when the sun stroked her face that she began to stir. Turning her back to the sun, she opened her eyes and merely stared at the wall as her mind caught up with the fact that it was time to wake up. Only then did her bedroom door burst open, as if her eyes opening had been as loud as thunder. A young red headed girl leapt onto Arabella's bed and hugged her tightly. A hearty laugh rang against the walls of her room as she returned the young girl's hug. "Good morning Cecelia." Cecelia looked up at Arabella "Oh Arabella, isn't it wonderful?!" Arabella chuckled having no idea what her cousin was talking about, "What is wonderful?" The smile wavered from Cecelia's lips as she looked surprised that Arabella didn't know the news, "Why Prince Christian's arrival of course! Hadn't you heard? He is the cutest prince after all and he's coming to Uncle's home today!"

Ah, that's what it was. Arabella had known that Christian was coming today, she'd invited him. She had hoped that Cecelia wouldn't find out before she returned home, but to no avail. Someone must have let it slip. Arabella smiled warmly at her dear cousin, "You know, I recall you saying the very same thing about Prince Rian last month." The young girl shook her head swiftly, sending her hair flying, "That was before." Arabella looked at her cousin curiously, "Before what?" Cecelia smirked, "Before I found out Prince Christian was coming of course!" Arabella tried to hold back her mirth at Cecelia's reasoning. "I see, well you best get yourself ready for his arrival. You wouldn't want to meet the Prince dressed in your nightgown." Cecelia looked down and gasped as if she only just realized she was still dressed for bed before darting back out the door without another word.

Shaking her head, she laughed lightly as she swung her legs over the bed and stepped onto the cold stone floor. "If only Christian had been here to listen to that. He might believe me the next time I told him half the village fancies him." she said to herself as she went about getting dressed for the day. As she picked out a rich green dress a hand maiden walked in to help her dress. After some time taken to prepare, she looked herself over and nodded, "This should be good enough for father while still managable on a horse..." With that she thanked her hand maiden and left to go meet Christian who was soon to arrive.[/size]

[Mimi]

"Your Highness, we should be arriving in less than an hour's time. Shall I ride ahead to announce your arrival?"

It took a few moments before Christian answered, having to pull out of the lackadaisical mire in which he found himself due to the hot and humid weather and the nature of his, now that he considered it, ill-suited, dark clothing. He blinked a moment in an attempt to regain his bearings and, without meaning to, brought his horse to a grudging halt with an involuntary saccade. In a very methodical way, the long train behind him - and it was quite a long one indeed! - came to a halt as well, and a few whistles and neighs later, Christian had realized that he'd stopped the progression of the entire entourage. A nervous, embarrassed half-laugh came from the prince as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck apologetically.

"Pardon? I-I am afraid I had not caught what you said."

The man before him stared on a few moments more in silence with a stern expression that seemed to foreshadow a harsh rebuke, but instead, he merely nodded his head in an understanding-though-not-really-understanding way and repeated his inquiry. A few knights and their horses shifted restlessly behind Christian, and Christian found himself nearly distracted again, this time by the labored breathing of the steeds. Poor things. They had been traveling nearly all night.

"--our Highness."

"--oh. Yes, yes. Please do." Christian wave his hand dismissively in the air, and for a moment, at least to those that watched him, a look of apathy overcame his face uncannily similar to that of his brother.

The knight, well into his middle years, paused a moment with a concerned and curious raise of the brow. "Are you feeling quite...well, Your Highness? Perhaps we should take a respite seeing as we have traveled through much of the night. Yes, I think a respite would do you some goo--"

"--no! I-I mean, no, no, I am quite all right. It is nothing; I would hate to make the Duke and her daughter wait. After all, I had said we would arrive by late morning, and I would hate to go back on my word. Please, go on ahead."

Christian offered the man a wavering smile before gently kicking his horse's flanks and continuing on, and at his cue, the progression slowly began moving once more. He listened to the knight pause, uncertain perhaps in Christian's sincerity, before disregarding it and giving a brisk whistle for his page to follow. The two worked up a gallop, and within a few minutes, the sound of their horses hooves beating against the weathered path had all but disappeared. Christian watched after the dust they raised and waited for the minute particles to fall back to the ground before moving on to another topic with which to pass the time.

Arabella's image swam across his mind, and the faintest blush colored his cheeks at the thought. Not that they were involved in a romantic tryst as was wont the case when a young man blushed at the thought of a young woman, but the circumstances under which this visit would be conducted was reason enough to blush he thought. It hadn't been long ago - indeed, only a week or two prior? - that Christian managed upon a list of names that just so happened to be the list of prospective brides for the Silian King's second-in-line. He blamed himself for being too prying and getting into the things in the first place, but he couldn't help but notice Arabella's name circled - twice, in fact. Even Christian wasn't dense enough to not know what that meant, and it had preoccupied him for much of this trip across the country.

He glanced nervously to the sky; the sun had climbed quite high already, and Christian almost fancied it noon. He yawned, shading his eyes from the glaring rays. Arabella had sent an invitation to him a while back, and he couldn't help but wonder if she knew of their fathers' plans for them. Whenever he thought of it, a pang of unexpected guilt hit him. What if Arabella had already a young gentleman of her own in mind for marriage? He'd hate to force the arrangement on her; although, technically, he wasn't the one doing the forcing. Even so, it did seem that way, didn't it? What choice did she have, and he did like her so. Maybe, not in exactly a romantic way seeing as they hadn't spent enough time together as young adults for their relationship to even approach that, but they'd been good friends as children when sex rarely mattered because a child could barely tell the difference. Really, the dress was all the same - robes and whatnot - and it hadn't been once that young Christian had mistaken a fair-eyed and soft spoken boy for a girl and vice versa.

The more he dwelt on it, the more restive he got, and the more restive he got, the hotter it seemed, and the hotter it seemed, the more the scene of trees and sky seemed to swim before his vision. He blinked several times, trying to blink back the nausea which he attributed to riding nearly all night (and a possible oncoming fever?) rather than his clumsy state of mind.

It'd been scheduled nearly a month before that it was about time for Christian to make another sweeping tour of the countryside, farms, villages, ports, and wherever else the poor were starting again to grumble under the increased duties. After all, war was costly and reconstruction and annexation of new territory all the more so. It was quite a taxing endeavor, if he did say so himself, and by the end of these tours he was almost always exhausted. Sometimes the lords of the estates gave him quite a difficult time; other times it was the villagers themselves. He was just glad the government's popularity hadn't descended to the point of him being pelted with rotten fruits and vegetables.

Sometimes it took a few months to a little more than half a year depending on how long he spared each place, and he often did stay longer than he was supposed to if, or rather when, he got attached to a family or the village as a whole and made secret deductions and pardons on their monthly payments and seasonal crop yields. And it confused him to no end whether that was what his father intended to happen by having Christian the bleeding heart "reconnect with the people" rather than, say, one of his more experienced advisors. Christian had long decided not never to question the King's wisdom and leave it at that.

Christian suddenly felt incredibly light-headed, and he wobbled just slightly in his saddle, but even that slight wobble was immediately perceptive to those who followed him, watching much as vultures did.

"Your Highness!"

A general alarm rippled through the front line as a few men sped up to assist Christian should he tumble from his seat. Christian blinked a bit in surprise and attempted best as he could to ignore the black sun spots blinking in his eyes.

"Oh, look at that! It seems we have arrived. I shall go on ahead then."

Christian kicked his horse into a quick trot and sped away from the still fretting men. He disliked making trouble, and as much as he fancied he was getting a fever of some sorts, he dared not mention it lest it get to Arabella and worry her as well.

As he passed easily through the gates, the guards saluting him accordingly, he breathed a small sigh and ran the back of his hand against his sweat-dotted brow. He wondered if he looked as ragged and tired as he felt, but the cool interior of just the courtyard seemed to have an amiable effect on him. He'd always admired the Duke's home, but at the thought, he also frowned. Yes, yes, there had been some rumors that the Duke was discontented with the kingdom, hadn't there? Christian vaguely wondered at its significance in his and Arabella's unforeseen engagement, but he quickly batted the idea aside as he slid from his horse and leaned against it a moment or two longer, listening to his shallow, hot breaths against the horse's white pelt.

He dared hoped he'd be able to reach a room and freshen up a bit before meeting with Arabella. It'd been a while since their last, and despite the circumstances, he'd be lying if he said he wasn't the least bit excited in seeing her again. She was perhaps the women with whom he could forgo stuttering the longest considering their past history together.

As he strode slowly across the greens, he quietly decided that he would have to gauge her reaction to see if she knew, and unfortunately for him, he was perhaps the worst out of any at reading peoples' thoughts. The notion disheartened him slightly, but just slightly, before he remembered Cecelia, and he brightened again. Surely, she would be excited to see him?

He quickened his pace; he wouldn't be able to meet either of them like so! If luck was on his side, he'd have his few minutes to make himself look presentable, but then again, luck rarely ever was.

ooc; I'M SORRY THIS WAS RAMBLING AND LONG. PLS FORGIVE ME ;__; but hopefully this'll give you a better idea of christian's personality? :,D if you hadn't lurked his other threads ^^;;

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[aria]

ooc; heh never apologize for writing like that. I had so much fun reading it. I'm sorry I haven't been around till today. Blasted classes. Now let the fun begin!

The flutter of fabric against the stone floor made only the faintest whisper of sound as Arabella crossed the expanse of her father's home. As much as part of her screamed to make straight for the stables to meet Christian and steal away with him before anyone was the wiser, she knew better. As much as it was more a formality, her father still expected her to go before him first. The last few meetings she'd been allowed to have with Christian had begun with a similar inspection and summary of what was expected of her. Her duties as a Lady of the lands, her obligation to assure 'his Highness' satisfaction, and the details expected from her after each meeting. It was a tedious activity, but Arabella had found over time that to question her father was to relinquish her time away from what was expected. So as much as her heart screamed to be free of this petty obligation, her feet found their way to the door that lead to her father's public quarters where he held the majority of his political meetings.

Opening the door, she walked through quietly, doing her best not to disturb her father. At a desk, quill rapidly dashing across parchment, she found her father. Without even looking up, his judgmental tone rang through the room, "I see your manners have lapsed once again, Arabella. Did we not go over this matter recently?" Taking a deep breath, Arabella held her tongue while the words she wished to say screamed within her mind. Once sure that she would not say something that would make matters worse, she drew closer to her father and bowed her head in reverence, "My deepest apologies, Father. I..." A wave of her father's hand cut off any further explanation. "Do try to abide by the rules I have set for you. You must always remember that you are a Lady and that means there is far more expected of you than a meager peasant."

With that, her father finally set down the quill and stood to look at her, only to frown in distaste. "What are you wearing? Do you not realize that Prince Christian will arrive shortly? And you dare to dress a mere step above a serving maid?" The utter disappointment rang with each word he spoke. His words caught Arabella off guard. Looking down at herself, she was dressed in a hunter green gown made of good quality. It was similar to a gown she'd gained acceptance from her father previously when seeking a journey to Court. "But Father..." Before she could say a word more, her father turned to her

"Do you believe this to be some sort of game? That I give you off to the Prince to have a good time? No! This is not for pleasure, and you're not to be dressed as you are." He shook his head, "I feared it would be as this, so I took precautions." He called for his aide who quickly went off to do as he was told. Arabella was still in shock from the ordeal. What was going on with her father. Sure he had his fair share of presumptions from time to time, but he'd never been so worked up before. The aide soon returned with the most elegant dress she'd ever seen. "You want me to wear that, father?" The frown deepened on her father's brow, "You will wear it Arabella. Now hurry off and change before the Prince arrives. And try to do something with your hair to make it suitable as well." Her father moved to go back to his desk to work as Arabella took the dress from the aide. It was exquisite, but there would be no horse riding in it. She wanted to fight her father on this, but two words from her had already set him off, she had no wish to push her luck.

Returning to her room, it seemed as if the maids knew what was going on and were already there waiting to help her change. They sinched the corset tighter before sliding the silver gown over her. The embroidery was done in gold and was quite intricate. But once she was completely dressed, she knew her movement would be limited. Indeed, it wasn't the only thing limited. Arabella was finding it quite the task to even breath. But the maids had obviously been given their orders from her father. Her discomfort was trumped by his words. Once they maid was done fussing with her hair, Arabella looked in the mirror. She looked like she was going off to a wedding. She knew this all was a bit much. Something had to be going on, but what and who could she ask about it. She had no idea what to do, and before she had too long to think about it, the call rang out that the Prince would be arriving in a short time sending Arabella out to find him.
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[Mimi]

ooc; aw, thanks. i'm glad you enjoyed reading it, but now i'm sorry for taking so long x.x i'll be faster next time, scout's honor! thanks for being patient with me ^^;;

Christian crept along the relatively deserted passageways, curiously wondering where the staff was. He knew the Duke kept a few hundred laborers on hand at all times to care for the extensive home, even more if you included those hired for the surrounding lands and the serfs and whatnot. For it to be so quiet today seemed... odd to him, but then again, perhaps the Duke was planning an evening ball, and all were preoccupied in the ball room? Who knew, but he was glad for the privacy, and after a few more minutes of sneaking about, much more like a fugitive than a prince, Christian grew tired and straightened into a stately stride. There was little chance he'd reach an empty room without being accosted in some form or other, and if so, he might as well meet the person or persons with some dignity befitting his title. He wouldn't want to disappoint his father or his kingdom, of course. Christian bit his bottom lip; oh no, anything but that.

It seemed, however, that he was wrong, at least in one respect. The layout of the castle, which had confused him endlessly as a child, had now taken on a tone of familiarity, and he navigated its twisting halls and sudden turn-offs with ease. He dared say he knew it as well as he did home, so much so that, much to his surprise, he managed to avoid each and every chambermaid or stable hand that he came across by diving into this hallway or that -- and without getting lost too! In all honesty, Christian was feeling quite self-satisfied and would have given himself a pat on the back had he, exhausted already, not been further exhausted by the... athleticism of his circumventions.

Turning the corner to the guests' quarter, Christian quickly stole into the nearest room and breathed a shallow sigh of relief, mopping at his forehead with the yellowed handkerchief while leaning against the door. He'd have to be quick; if word got around that he'd arrived for such-and-such length of time without paying his respects to the lord of the household (and lady), it might come off as rude. It was easier said than done; Christian seemed to have caught a migraine, and at this momentary respite in activity, he was made acutely aware of the fact. Groaning quietly, he squatted on the floor, messaging his temples. What timing! Uncomfortable or not, he had a duty and his word to uphold, and rather heavily, he pulled himself back up and over to the jug of water. Sluggishly, he poured a third into the washing basin and slowly wetted his hands before consenting to rigorously scrubbing his face. Something like a stubble had recently started to form on the once baby-like smoothness of his chin, and at seeing it again in the mirror, he hung his head with a defeated sigh. Shave. He'd forgotten to shave; though, maybe it wasn't so much that he'd forgotten as that he'd pushed it aside because he spent more time cutting himself than the hair. Running a hand across his face, he groped for a nearby towel and hastily dabbed at the rivulets of running water in his hair and betwixt his eyes.

All the while, Arabella re-entered his thoughts, and he nervously shifted his feet. Had he made her wait too long? Of course, of course he had; what a terrible guest he must have seemed.

Agitated, Christian threw down the towel and took another half-second to readjust the collar of his coat before making for the door, determined to affect an air of robustness and to find his hostess. There wasn't much time for the former, but the latter was just a few steps from the door.

"A-Ara-Arabella!"

He floundered for his words and failing there, decided to make an awkward bow instead. A sweat droplet rolled down the side of his forehead. Needless to say, he'd wanted to find her as quickly as possible but not this quickly that, instead of boosting his confidence, stripped him of what was left of it altogether. The initial surprise didn't go away, and Christian found himself unable to concentrate on one thing as he remained bent before her, much longer than was necessary.

"G-Good to see you again!"

Did his voice sound louder than normal? Was she wearing a silver evening gown? A silver evening gown seemed a bit too formal didn't it? Maybe it was because her father had told her so. Was her father doing well? Was his own father doing well? Was his brother doing well? He hoped he wouldn't disappoint his brother --

Christian's migraine suddenly seemed to grow ten times worse.

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