Gigi became accustomed to life at Court, finding her days filled with shopping, teas, riding parties and everything under the sun that nobles thought of. But what she lived for were the balls and the dancing. With each passing day the mannerism, in which she had been taught, became more and more natural. The time she felt truly at ease though, was when she was twirling around the marble floor, in the arms of some nobleman. And the arms of noblemen were something that she was not wanting for.
Each time a ball took place, Gigi found herself making a new acquaintance. All of them wore their version of a charming smile and all eager to capture her attention. She felt giddy with each new face that smiled at her, unaware of the whispers that spoke up as she passed.
Though she found herself dancing with someone new most times, there were some that stayed the same. Clay held the largest bid on her time and managed to slip himself into her daily activities, no matter what they might be. Her hand could be often found in his elbow. His smile was a constant sight and no meal passed without him by her side.
In the absence of Raif, Gigi didn't mind his presence and enjoyed his flirty way. Davin seemed to hover around her at times, but his presence was more of a ghost, wandering, as he never fought for her attention.
It was Clay, Gigi was with five days later. Music poured from the open doors and laughter tumbled out after it. Making some excuse about fresh air, Clay guided her from the ballroom and onto the balcony. The air was deliciously cool and she breathed it in. Clay didn't stop to admire the view from the terrace, instead, he directed them to the grounds.
She made no objections and followed. With a sure step, he led her down a side path and further towards a circle of trees. There was an eagerness in his walk that Gigi found surprising. Energy radiated from him, as his thoughts spurred him forward.
"Where are we going?" she asked, looking up at his clean-cut face.
In answer, he sent her a smile. A smile so full of mischief and secrets that it made her blush to the top of her silk dress. They moved further from the gayety of the party deeper into the dimly lit grounds.
Lanterns popped up every few feet, but beyond that, only the half moon lit their path. The black velvet sky was sprinkled with stars and stray threads of clouds. Gigi felt her heart quicken in anticipation, though she didn't know what she anticipated. Clay eventually stopped before a willow tree, with wispy branches that dropped to brush the ground.
Gigi smiled as she gazed up at it. Slipping her hand free from his elbow, she pushed through. The base of the tree was twice her size in width. The soft grass cushioned her footsteps as she walked forward to touch the towering tree. Moonlight cut through the leaves and set pale blue shadows across the ground.
"Why did you bring me here?" she asked, still studying the rough bark.
When Clay didn't reply, she turned around. He was closer than she expected. Instinctively, she took a step back, the base of the tree blocking her path. His smile was more subdued than before, but there was an unmistakable gleam in his eyes. He moved forward, closing the small gap of distance between them.
"Genevieve," he said, her name slipping from his lips in a quiet breath. The heat of his voice caressed her face and a shiver run down her spine. He placed one hand against the tree, by her head, and brushed her cheek with the fingers of his other.
Gigi felt frozen to the spot. Startled by his gentle touch, she found herself at a loss as to whether to stay or flee. Built on that was confusion on which one she actually wanted. His hazel eyes held her trapped, the energy from before setting a fire in his gaze. Gigi's heart was beating wildly like rabbits.
"Genevieve," he said again, his tone more confident. "Marry me."
The words shocked her, wiping all thoughts from her brain. She received a second jolt when he kissed her, his hand holding her face. His lips were soft at first then became more forceful.
Gigi pushed him away, her mind reeling.
"Sir...Clay," she said, her breath ragged with surprise. "What are you doing?"
Clay ignored her question and moved close. "Marry me, Genevieve."
Before he could kiss her again, Gigi darted away from the tree.
"We've only known each other for a few days," she said, her accent slipping as her head spun with what had happened and his question.
"A few days is all it takes," Clay said, taking a step towards her. "Genevieve, I knew I wanted to marry you the moment I met you."
Gigi held up a hand, hoping it would keep him at bay.
"All the same," she said, her thoughts coming back to her, even though her body was shaken from the ordeal. "I am flattered by your offer but I must decline."
This response had no negative effect on Clay. In fact, it fueled him forward, his look more determined.
"Come, Genevieve," he said. "This is not an offer I would easily make again."
Gigi found her resolve and a spark of fire and clung to it. "I hope that is true. My answer is the same."
Before he could even utter one word in his defense, Gigi rushed away from the tree, unconcerned with manners. Her speed didn't stop until she stumbled onto the main path and the balcony of the palace lay before her. Though she could see groups of people gathered along the stone railing, she didn't move forward.
Still flustered by the kiss, she turned away and went looking for a piece of solitude. Her feet directed her to the quiet fountain she had visited before with Raif. As she stared at the stone tiers, the trickling water eased her racing heart. She took in a deep breath, settling herself.
She touched her lips, hating that the feeling of Clay's mouth was still lingering there. Without thinking of the consequences, she stepped up to the fountain. She cupped her hands, filling it with the cold liquid. She pressed her lips to it, hoping to erase the memory.
The feeling was still there but she felt calmer. A part of her ached for her mother, for the soft lilting voice that offered comfort. She longed for something that felt familiar in a world she had thought she was beginning to understand clearly.
An urge popped up in her mind. Giving the surrounding area a cautious look, she slipped out of her shoes. The grass felt comforting beneath her bare feet. She closed her eyes, savoring the feeling, letting it take her home for a moment. Her mind flooded with memories and she hugged them close, using them as strength.
The water continued to trip and fall over the fountains tiers. In the distance, the faint musical tones of voices and laughter could be heard. Opening her eyes, Gigi stared at the stone fixture. A rebellious spark spurred her into action. She gathered up the edge of her dress and stepped into the water. A smile sprung to her lips as she felt fully herself at that moment. The cool liquid stirred more thoughts of home, blustery her, as well as soothing the ache to be back there.
She was broken from her reverie at the sound of someone behind her.
"It is true then," a deep, methodical voice said.
Gigi spun around, sending up sprays of water. The Prince stood before her, his hands clasped behind his back. Shock kept Gigi's throat closed and her face from blushing. When Thayer took a step closer, she wrenched herself from her surprise. As gracefully as she could manage, she stepped from the fountain.
"Your Highness," she said, her face now filling with color.
"I have been trying to decide," Thayer said, a hint of harshness in his tone, "from the minute I saw you whether you were the vagabond I met. Now I know." He gestured to the fountain. "For what kind of lady would willingly step into a fountain?"
Faced with the fact that she was caught and could change none of it, Gigi folded her hands before her.
"I did not think you would remember," she said, keeping the inflicted tones of the Court.
The moonlight fell across Thayer's face, sharpening his handsome features. He stared at her, his brown eyes intense. Behind them was a look of accusation.
"How did you get here?" he asked an edge to his voice.
The question threw Gigi. "With my grandparents."
He took a step closer, his eyes hard with simmering anger. "Do not lie to me."
Gigi took a half step back, startled by his tone. "I'm not."
"Lord and Lady Brixton are grieving over their son. How dare you use their grief as a way of conning them."
"Conning them?" For the second time that night, Gigi was left scrambling to make sense of what was going on. All the self-assurance she had found vanished. "What are you talking about?"
Thayer took a step closer, his face hard as granite. Though he was only a few inches taller, Gigi felt as if he towered over her. Stumbling back, her legs hit the edge of the fountain. She nearly fell into it but was able to keep her balance.
"Alton did not have a daughter," he said, his voice low and threatening. "He would have told me if he did. Since this is the truth how do you explain your presence here? Especially, since the last time I saw you were living in a vagabond encampment with the rest of your low life kind."
At his last words, hot anger surged inside Gigi. Her blue eyes burned with the fire of the emotion.
"I see!" she said, her voice fiery. "Simply because of where I live and who I've grown up around I could not possibly have any right to a title."
At first, Thayer was surprised by her outburst, but his own fury quickly forced it away.
"Alton had no daughter," he bit off.
"Are you so sure of this?" Gigi snapped back.
"Yes! He would have told me. He was my closest friend." Passed the rage in Thayer's eyes was a grief that laid buried deep.
Though the declaration made Gigi falter in her anger, she wasn't ready to give it up just yet.
"That may be true, but there is truth in my title that you, in your narrow-minded way, can not see."
Thayer glared at her, his mouth a thin line. She stared back, challenging him with the look. The tread of footsteps on the gravel path cut the tension between them. With great willpower, Thayer reined in his emotions. He took a step back, his eyes still hard as he looked at Gigi. She took in a shaky breath, the fight from a second before draining from her.
From the pathway, Raif appeared. Gigi looked at him and all at once relief washed over her. He strode forward, his gait confident. The corner of his mouth curled as his gaze jumped from her to the Prince.
"Your majesty," he said, giving a bow of his head.
Thayer shifted his attention over, his face impassive. There was a small dip of his chin, in acknowledgment, then he left, without a single glance at Gigi. With the sight of his retreating back, she found herself breathing deeply as if she hadn't been breathing for the past few minutes. Raif followed the Prince's path until he slipped out of view. When he turned back to Gigi, his gray eyes were filled with laughter.
"I leave for a mere five days," he said, "and already you are talking alone with the Prince. It seems I must not leave again or you will forget about me completely."
Gigi felt a smile growing, already her emotions easing with the familiar cadence of his voice.
"You have nothing to worry about," she said. "He is arrogant and too close-minded."
Raif chuckled. "How bluntly you talk of our future king."
"He does not deserve the title."
Raif took a step closer and Gigi didn't back away. "I find most people who have titles do not deserve them. But that is something neither of us can change." He pivoted and, with a mischievous smile, held out his elbow to her. "Come. I found you for the sole reason of dancing with you for the rest of the night. I do not plan on being disappointed."
Gigi felt her spirits lighten. She took his elbow. But before she could take a step, Raif glanced down at the grass and where her discarded shoes lay.
"You will need those, vagabond girl," he said, his tone speaking of his entertainment at her barefooted state.
With colored cheeks, Gigi quickly slipped her shoes on. Taking his arms once again, she allowed him to guide her back to the palace. As they walked, he told her of his travels. She listened, filling her heart with the rhythm of his voice.
She was so entrenched in his presence, that she didn't notice Sir Clay standing on the balcony. Didn't notice the way his face went tight with embarrassment at the sight of her already on the arm of some other man. Didn't notice the way he spun on his heel and walked off.
She noticed nothing but Raif. She felt nothing, but calm as she stepped back into the ballroom and danced the night away in his arms.
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Greetings dear reader!
Who wants to join me and go hunt down stupid Sir Clay?
I never really liked that guy anyways. ð
Alright what do we now think of Thayer?
Cause really I'm pushing him towards the Sir Clay side of the board myself. For reals, he didn't need to act like a complete butt head!
So off topic, sorta, I read a good amount of fantasy books because the main story usually isn't about the romance but about the adventure. There is one thing that bugs me though, the names! The made up names they create for people and places are baffling! They create these words and then never give you a glossary on how to pronounce them! For reals, it's so annoying! I have to make up half of the names cause they spell them all funky and I'm completely clueless!
Does anyone else have this problem?
Well, this is where I need your help, I love writing fantasy and I will write more so I need names. Girl names, guy names, location names, any names you want to give me I'll take. They just need to sound fantasy-ish! Can you help me out?
Also what you fantasy spirit animal?
Mine is a hippogriff, because I'm really huffy if you don't approach me the right way, so BOW HUMAN!
Gosh I'm so weird I really wonder how you put up with me. ð¤¦ð½ââï¸
Unicorn, dragon, heffalump! (Or you know vote, comment, follow)