The Short Stories of Miss.SunFlower

I hope you don't cry. But it's kinda complex again lol

Deirdre was in no hurry to leave. Paul wasn’t in any hurry to have her leave either. No one was.
She had her horse ready that evening, muttering something of about Her Highness wanting her home soon. He could care less about the princess’s wishes right then.
“Oh stay the night.” Sisters Ruth and Joyce pleaded her for the some-teenth time. She laughed and tried to shake her head, to which they protested, “The princess would not want you to be on the road at night – imagine what would happen!”
The girls had a point, Paul thought silently, trying not to raise his own protesting voice. Though he was sure he could talk her into another night in the village. He was not incredibly attracted to the idea of a solitary young woman riding a dark road by night.
“There are plenty of inns along the road.” She said slowly, “Probably much more used to catering a countess.”
But she was smiling, and then winked. That was agreement enough for the sisters, and for him. Deirdre would stay another night.
And with that, Ruth and Joyce practically held a party for the last night of their sister’s stay. Paul once again was stuck watching young women conversing, longing to talk to his old friend. No matter how much he did, it would never be enough.
Watching her have fun was a lovely consolation though. She looked, though still dressed as she did when she arrived, like she had never left them. He wished she hadn’t, but of course, his opinion on it didn’t matter.
“Do they RUN out of questions?” She demanded, having squeezed herself away from her other friends to speak to him, inside one tavern. She had been sending him sheepish looks throughout – obviously sharing his opinion about wanting to talk again.
“I’m going to take a guess and say no.”
“Joyous. I suppose I need to get used to being harassed with questions about my life’s occurrences. At least, at the moment it is by friends…” She sighed.
“As opposed to…?”
Her laugh lost a bit of humor, “Even if I am not married off, Julianne will be, and I am to come with her to every court dinner or ball until then.”
“Sounds exciting.” He tried not to sound TOO disbelieving of his words.
“Oh it’ll be horrific! Every one will want to know of my past here, and then everything I say will only be repeated a million times and everyone will be so disdainful and haughty and tell me how sorry they are that I had to live in such horrid conditions.” She nearly sounded like crying by the end of it.
Any lingering fears about Deirdre changing over the 5-year absence disappeared from Paul’s mind. He placed his hands on her shoulders to get her to look him in the eye again, as she’d looked away in embarrassment.
“I’m sorry, Deirdre. There’s not much more I can do than that.”
Her face had broke into a smile and now she laughed with the tiniest more humor, “Just be my friend. I know it’s hard with my being away for possibly years and years, but you have no idea how it hurt me when you avoided me upon my return.”
“Did not.”
“Paul, you did.”
He felt guilty because he knew she was right. He wanted to say something to her, but could think of nothing. He remembered his hand were still firmly on both her shoulders and removed them, then.
“Sister – how long do you plan on getting us tea? Ruth thinks you are stalling!” Joyce laughed from outside by the campfire. Deirdre sent him a sheepish smile.
“Want help with that tea you are supposedly making?” Paul asked, playfully.
“Yes, please.”
With some laughter and mess-ups he’d helped her produce beverages for herself and the sisters waiting.
“And now I must go out there again… I keep reminding myself that I love them dearly.” She giggled.
He grinned, “if you want, I could come out with you and keep the conversation steadily away from your court life.”
“That would be marvelous, really. But who knows, you may get intrigued and want to ask about it yourself.”
“I couldn’t care less about what you do back there, I’m just happy you are here right now.” He said truthfully.
“Well,” She continued, not to be deterred, “You also would not want to go against your love-to-be, would you? She takes such delight in questioning me; you would not wish to take it away from her. Or perhaps you just COULD not…” She giggled, and it grew to full out laughter at his flustered expression. She was so good at understanding his views of Joyce – friends were, though, he supposed.
When he’d found himself unable to speak again – it was strange how often he was at a loss of words around her – she laughed and took the mugs. “Wish me luck.” She said, nudging the door open with her shoulder, she glanced out and looked over her shoulder at him, “Oh and can ya make another mug? Neil’s out here too.”
Paul glanced out, and indeed, the other young man was. But then so were Keith and Damo. So it wasn’t as though they were alone. He exhaled.
Deirdre grinned, “Maybe you should come out after all. Don’t want miss. Joyce to have her heart stolen from anyone else.” A wink and she disappeared.
In the end he did come out, sitting between the again arguing Keith and Damian though not doing anything to stop it. Just laughed, and let their conversation take his mind off of things.
His friend sent him smiles throughout the remainder of the night, as she was indeed questioned of every aspect of court life. A topic that seemed as annoyingly boring as she’d made it sound.
The beautiful Joyce sent him grins as well, all the while trying to get him into the conversation she was in with Deirdre. But he already knew more than he wanted to about her life at the castle, and her feelings toward it. But he would grin back a sufficient amount for her, and the fire of questions would return.
“I think you are wearing her out.” He finally told the girls at last. “She does have a journey tomorrow.”
Almost everyone groaned like 10 year olds told to go to bed or gather fire wood. Not happy.
“Don’t remind me.” Deirdre said standing up and attempting to dust off the less than pristine gown around her. She then dropped her voice to a murmur, “I’m going to be killed for the state of this alone.”
He chuckled, “I’m sure you will be fine. I get your words about it being a bother now.”
She sent him the most ecstatic of smiled for that, “Exactly. And well, I really should be asleep now.”
“Goodnight Deirdre!” Everyone now gathered said in unison. She beamed at each before leaving the circle.
The next morning she had left. Paul knew she had to get out early but it upset him all the same. When would he ever see her again?
 
“So you are clearly smitten – tell me more about this highwayman.” Deirdre was trying to keep her mind occupied and away from the empty feeling in the pit of her stomach. She missed everyone so much.
The princess, of whom the room they sat in belonged to, looked up from absently brushing her golden hair. “Who? Oh him…. Oh… that has passed.”
Deirdre raised her eyebrows. Julianne seemed out-of-it, and in such a way she knew a male was inducing it. “So,” She said dryly, “What else occurred on this trip home?”
“Whatever do you mean?”
“You know full well what I mean. You look ready to burst.”
She giggled, and then leaned forward, ready to divulge in some juicy secret, “Okay, well, it was night… and we were stopping at a tavern to eat and rest. Mainly uneventful things, and I was also, well I didn’t want people to know I was the princess just then…”
“Disguised.” Deirdre gave her the word.
“Yes, so well, it’s a bit half way through this silent meal, and, someone else enters. We were alone very nearly, I should add, as it was late. And this man… oh I do not think I can describe him.”
“Handsome?”
“What an understatement of a word!” She laughed quietly, “ He had these eyes… when he looked at you, you just couldn’t breathe, or think. Made conversation difficult let me tell you.”
She blinked, “Conversation? You made conversation with some stranger! Your guards let you?”
“Oh just barely, and they were not happy with it, I will add. And his voice…” She sighed and returned to combing her hair. “He wishes to meet me again.” She added dreamily.
“Which is impossible.”
She shot her friend a hot look, “Well, I suppose it is. Thank you.”
Deirdre sighed, “Highness, I’m being practical.”
“I don’t care for practicality at the moment, thank you.” She repeated. “And who knows? Maybe he is a lord of some kind! Then all will be well.”
“I’m sure it would be wonderful if life worked that way.” She said with another sigh. She could not keep her gloom down. She felt so empty, so lonely.
Princess Julianne inspected her friend’s face, “I’m beginning to think, despite your views on it, that a ball would be good for you. You need to do something fun.”
“And a ball is fun…?”
“Oh, Deirdre it will not be so bad! Father is planning for one at the end of this week… do come!”
She did need to keep herself busy, and, well, she would have to eventually. Another sigh escaped her, “Yes, your highness.”
Julianne clapped, “Oh thank you! It’ll be such a comfort having you there!”
She gave a convincing enough smile in return, “May I go, then, highness.”
“I suppose you may.” Deirdre stood up to do just that, “Oh and, love?” She added hesitantly.
“Yes?”
“You will not be happy to hear this, but-“ an awkward cough, “Father, decided to open up that I am looking for a suitor… so I have begun to receive letters from foreign kingdoms to inquire about me. It’s typical apparently… and gives me a chance to choose and converse with a potential husband before meeting.”
Deirdre nodded, not sure what this had to do with her. The idea of courting through letters was a fairly nice one. It was slightly less awkward - only slightly, though. “Yes, highness?” She knew there was more.
“He’s done the same for you, Deirdre. And, well, imagine to have a few letters waiting in your quarters.”
She groaned, not bothering to hide her agitation at that, “Just perfect. I suppose I must sort through mail now.” Probably for the rest of her life, as she was sure now she would never cease to get letters until she was wed. Which was not anytime soon.
“I’m sorry.”
She said nothing in reply, and exited the room.
So, the amount of letters on a small desk in her own chambers was not as dramatically large as she had it pictured in her head. That was a relief.
Still 4 letters from unknown men, wishing to pursue her, was not something that she was cheerily anticipating. That and these letters were supposed to help her narrow it down… and well, she figured she would discard all of them. That did nothing. She made an oath then she would try to respond to ONE letter
Getting it over with she read letter after letter. None said anything wonderfully spectacular. Some wanted to share their condolences about her lost 15 years. Those were in the discard pile without question.
All four were unsigned. Deirdre guessed that maybe it was meant to make the person more comfortable within the first few letters… then after that the name would be revealed and the conversation could continue in better light.
The letter she chose to reply to was the shortest and went;
“Dear Deirdre,
I hope this has gotten to you safely, and I hope that you have reached your home safely, after your trips out with her highness, Princess Julianne.
I am not too familiar of how long a letter would take to reach you, of how you get mail, or how you reply. If you reply at all, that is. I can only hope you do – and I cannot imagine you ignoring anyone.
But in saying that I’m reacquainted with the fact that, as of now, I truly do not know as much about you as I would love to. But, to be honest, I cannot find in my head a correct question to ask you – what does one ask in this kind of letter? How much easier it is to speak face-to-face, don’t you think?
I suppose I should not continue this rambling, foolish letter to you, countess. I will simply send this in hopes you reply, though I have given you little to reply to.”
And, like the others, there was no ending signature. Still the letter itself was the kindest she’d received, the most real. She could imagine a young lord nearly blushing as he penned the beginning of a courtship letter to the countess. It was endearing.
With a smile she penned her reply, trying not to think of it as the beginnings of being courted. Though that was exactly what it was.
 
ooooh can't wait to hear the end of that :D

out of curiosity, have you seen the Princess and the Frog?
 
“Do you miss her?” Joyce asked Paul softly one odd afternoon after Deirdre had left.
“Deirdre?”
“Aye.”
Careful with wording, he had offered to treat her for a lunch one afternoon. She had happily agreed, but it didn’t appear to be the time to have any declarations of feelings as Deirdre was the topic, right away.
He tried to shrug off how much he really did, “I figure we all do.”
Joyce wouldn’t have that, “Yes, I suppose we all do. I know I certainly do, a great deal. But you are so quiet now that she is gone.”
“Am I?”
A giggle, “You are, you are. But maybe we all are too.”
She wasn’t though. Maybe she missed Deirdre deep inside but after a little pouting she was back to her normal talkative self. You wouldn’t know that something had occurred, someone important had left. She must have been better at hiding it than it appeared he was.
“But... I’m wondering if you miss Deirdre a bit more.”
He was speechless, thinking of that. He couldn’t – couldn’t possibly miss her anymore than anyone else there did. For what reasons would he… oh. Joyce hadn’t had to finish that sentence before it hit Paul what idea the young woman had.
“You think- oh,” He laughed, “She’s one of my oldest friends, sure, but no. It’s not what you are thinking.” He was not sure how she could think he and Deirdre were anything more. She was beautiful, to put it simply, but well, he just didn’t.
Besides, she was a countess. Nothing could happen even if he did.
Joyce raised her lovely eyebrows, but said no more in contradiction. Paul looked at her. Did she look disappointed that he had no more-than-friendly feelings toward the young woman who had left, or relived.
He could have been easily making that second emotion up. He wouldn’t put it past himself to do such a thing. He couldn’t help it. He was so, as Deirdre would put it, smitten with beautiful girl. This lunch alone, he found himself staring, gaping at her. She really was stunning, her hair like fire and eyes always bright.
She took no notice of his silent staring… if there was any. Deirdre had convinced him that his expression was more than obvious when looking at Joyce, but again she didn’t seem to notice.
“If you say so.” She responded. And now he knew the tone – disbelieving.
That was embarrassing – the girl he loved was rather convinced he loved someone else, and nothing he said would do anything? Not good.
But before he could say anything at all, his lovely companion brightened, “Did you know my father is thinking of getting Ruth engaged?”
That had come out of nowhere, but Paul was thankful for the turn away from Deirdre.
“I thought he would one day… to who?” He was guessing he knew.
“Keith.” She laughed happily at the idea.
“I don’t suppose either is opposed to it.”
She beamed – devastating, “Well, Ruth doesn’t talk much about it, but I know she loves him. She always has. But, well, Keith NEVER talks about it much at all. If he wasn’t with her I’d think he’s not interested at all.”
It was true, he thought. The blonde lad had seemed slightly out of it as of recently and he couldn’t think why.
“Oh I know he is interested. Not the one to openly admit it, but he is.” He told her, to keep her cheery.
It did, for a moment, “Well, that is very good to know. Father wouldn’t force either of them if they didn’t want to… which is good to know, in advance…”
“Has he talked about possibly getting you married as well?”
She didn’t seem uncomfortable talking with him about it. That was good. “Not TO me, specifically. But Ruth says he hopes to have us both wed.”
His heart sped up a bit, imagining himself married to the beautiful fire haired girl before him. “And how do you feel about the idea?”
She shook her head, a soft smile still on her lips, “I’m not sure yet… if I like the idea of getting married yet or not.”
“Do you have any one you wish to marry?” He asked before his thoughts caught up with him. He blushed a little.
But she laughed, “You even sound like Deirdre! She asked me the same questions to me while she was here.” She sighed then, “I miss her so much.”
“We all do.” He replied, though he could not help but feel she was stalling or avoiding his earlier question. But he wasn’t sure he was prepared for whatever the answer may be.
“I know you do.” She laughed, and before he could reply she continued “Do you know what time it is?” She blushed a little for no real reason.
He blinked, “Probably a little after noon. Why?” He added as her eyes widened, at his words.
She stumbled to finish what was left of her meal, giggling now, and blushing more, “Oh I promised – promised to meet some-someone this afternoon.” She finished and stood up.
“Did you?” He said slowly.
More laughter, “I did, I did. And I don’t – I’d rather not be late.” and without restraint she gave him a warm hug. “Thank you for lunch, Paul. It was lovely to talk to you… and I’m sure you needed it too.”
He blinked as she turned to leave, “hm?”
“With you missing Deirdre and all, you needed someone to talk to. Glad I helped.” And with that she giggled and left.
 
It was embarrassing, how much Deirdre anticipated her letters now. True, she still got four or five a day, but only one mattered to her.
Fascinating how a few letters could leave her already feeling close to the man writing them, though she still didn’t even know his name, status, age, anything. He was humble, polite, nice, and, her favorite quality, he was funny.
He must have lived somewhat close to the palace, for the letters rarely took a little over a day before a reply came. Always good as Deirdre didn’t think she’d like the bother of waiting long for another letter.
Once she finally asked him if he could give her his name at the end of a letter.
The answer, “Haven’t I been already?”
She blinked at that before penning the reply, “No, like all letters I receive – it is unsigned.”
“I imagine that is done by royal guards, wanting all letters to you to stay unknown. Not very fond of that idea, I have to tell you.”
Deirdre smiled, though she wasn’t happy with the idea either. It was silly that she COULD not know who was writing her. How did this accomplish anything at all.
He continued, “I could, possibly, find a way to slip my name into the letter itself, see if you catch it. Or would you rather I remain your unknown? I suppose if you aren’t opposed to it, I am fine.”
Another smile for that – oh he was so very kind. And she couldn’t help but feel that she was enjoying this nameless suitor being nameless, despite her earlier thoughts. There was something, embarrassingly, thrilling about the idea. All wishes for him to reveal his name were gone when she reached a signature the guards kept.
“Sincerely,
Your Unknown”
So letters continued this way. Between a countess and her unknown lord. She tried to ask him more about his own life, embarrassed by how little she still knew about him when he clearly knew about her. Everyone knew about her. And for the most part he answered, though he kept the answers vague.
He wasn’t old. That was a relief when he penned that he was barely over 30. He had no siblings, and sympathized with her missing the friends she left years ago – she liked that quality right away. His main fault was talking before he thought, often making an already awkward situation worse. That made her laugh, she was familiar with that quality – it was one she, herself, as well as many old friends, possessed.
Then he would flirt with her too. But every letter she received included the frivolous compliments, so she knew should not delight in them as much as she wished. But guiltily, she still did – when written by him.
When she was not writing to her first and only suitor, she was fretting about the ball that was coming in a few days time. She knew it was going to be the most annoying bother of an event but she couldn’t help feeling nervous. So many people would know her, and she would know no one.
It occurred to her as well that her unknown might be present. He would, like others, know who she was, while she would be left completely in the dark. She was excited and nervous - looking forward to and dreading this coming date.
Her unknown wrote after her she’d admitted her uncomfortable feelings – leaving out her wish for him to be present. The letter had reached her, most wonderfully, the day OF the ball.
“You’ll be fine.” It read, “You are a countess, who has had more experience in things than any of them can dream. If they even begin to treat you as though 15 years away makes you below them, don’t let them. If anything, you are above all of them, and show it. I’m sure the idea doesn’t appeal to you, but you deserve a chance to look down on some of the foolish people who think they can do that to you.
Don’t worry. It is just one night. It will not make or ruin the rest of your life, Deirdre. And if it is horrible, tell me all about it. I hope I can do something to help. I am very happy I can write you at all.
Sincerely,
Your Unknown”
How was it a single letter could improve her mood so much as this? She thought, as she brushed through her thick dark hair, reminding herself very much of the smitten princess after meeting two dangerously handsome men in one day.
“You look so happy.” Julianne told her, smirking as they met with each other before the ball. Looking over each other’s choices in gowns, hairstyles, and other courtly items needed for such an event.
The Princess, of course, looked brilliantly stunning. Her gold waves were doing nothing incredibly spectacular, in design, but still even in the muted lights of her room it glowed as though spun from gold. She could only imagine how it would look in the warm lights of the hall they would spend the evening at. Her dress sported the crimson and silver that was the kingdoms colors, and was cut perfectly to fit her, admittedly quite flawless, form.
Deirdre herself, had tried to keep her own style fairly simple – but that appeared to be an impossible ideal. She had her dark hair braided with the purest blue ribbon she had seen and then the braids wound back into a bun behind her. She didn’t like the bare feeling on her neck. Dressing, she was able to find one a little less… eye-catching. Though the deep blue and shimmering black around her drew enough attention. She sighed.
“Do I?”
“You do.” She giggled, “Which is a joy to see, lovely. You must smile more this night, it makes you look most charming.”
She shook her head, “I cannot make myself smile, if I am not enjoying myself.”
“Then enjoy yourself.”
Deirdre only laughed. She was certain she would not be enjoying this night.
She didn’t.
By the end of the night she was exhausted and completely fed up. The falseness in every polite tone was so apparent it made her sick. Every compliment, word of consolation or question of her past years annoyed her to the core.
Twice she tried to leave early. Once, she was stopped by an offer to dance, which she really wanted to refuse but could think of no excuse. The second time Princess Julianne stopped her, politely. She knew Deirdre wanted to leave.
“Give me another minute to say goodbyes. Then I can have a head ache and we can go.”
“Thank you.” She replied wholeheartedly.
That had been one night Deirdre never wanted to go through again. Though it was clear that she would have to more and more. That was distressing.
However the evening after that horrific experience she was once again cheered by another letter from her dear correspondent. Cheering, as well as confusing, and interesting.
“Dear Deirdre,
I have many things I wish to tell you in this letter. But much of it would come out ridiculous on paper. So, I can only I say I truly wish I could see you again, soon.
Sincerely,
Your Unknown.”
 
To say Paul didn’t miss Deirdre was a lie. To say he missed her a little was also one. To be completely truthful the past few days of events had made him long to see her more than anything else could.
He longed to tell her of everything that had occurred in the form of some incredibly long rambling letter. But the information couldn’t begin to be penned without him feeling like a complete idiot. She had her own things to deal with at her home, he knew.
He longed to see her again, and tell her all that had occurred in the days of her absence. That would not cheer her much though, as he knew she terribly missed her life here and telling her all that she was not apart of would not make her any happier, and Paul hated to upset her.
The first occurrence, only a few days after her absence was what they collectively called the gypsy scare. That had been, well, shocking.
A few days after Deirdre had left, the small town had expected little intervention of any royal for years to come. But that wasn’t the case. Unfortunately, the return of two guards did not bring Deirdre with.
They did bring a bit of a shock. As they believed, suddenly, that Keith had been the highwayman to have robbed the Royal carriage the day they had left. And while, of course, they jumped to defend their friend, Paul remembered the lad had been missing a good lot of that particular day.
But young Damian had paid that thought no mind. Keith was his older brother in nearly every respect, and he couldn’t imagine him as a thief, that was clear. So, without further worry, the younger lad argued Keith’s innocence and brought about the capture of a few gypsies – who everyone decided were at fault.
But Keith wouldn’t have that, which surprised Paul a bit, and after the guards had left, he told everyone he was indeed at fault for it.
That did little though, as George was kind and wouldn’t keep the lad imprisoned.
“I can’t believe what you do or have done makes you any crueler of a person than I know you as.” He said kindly. And that had been that.
So Keith had been freed, a few days after the other gypsies. Including a female who seemed rather close to the lad himself. But that little fact was of little issue either, as after that calmed down, ever so slightly, George publicly declared the engagement of Keith and Ruth.
Paul wondered what Deirdre would think of all of that, as it had occurred. He wondered if her company would have made the situation better. If hearing about it would surprise her. He wondered a lot about her, more and more by the day.
The other feeling of wishing for her presence was occurring at that very moment, and was a rather embarrassing situation.
Finally, finding himself unable to wait, he had told George he was interested in his daughter’s hand in marriage. He’d sounded pleased with the idea, but Paul figured he would be.
After that conversation he’d practically run into the woman he had been talking about.
“Afternoon Paul.” She greeted him in a sunny voice, cheeks pink.
“Afternoon Joyce.” He replied, breathlessly, his mind playing back the past conversation with her father, “Where have you been?” He added.
Her cheeks now simply glowed, “Um… well, Neil – ah, he’s been teach-teaching me how to horseback ride, every couple afternoons.”
Paul fought back a cringe at that. Was it just him, or did she really seem to be spending more and more time at the stables? He didn’t much like that idea, but tried to think little of it. Joyce was just so incredibly polite; she would spend time with anyone. He tried to think of that and not her blushes.
“Well you seem happy doing so.” He said simply.
She dimpled, “I am.” Then a pause, “So what have you been up to, then?”
He colored, and tried to think of a way to bring up the conversation. This wasn’t exactly the time and place he imagined it being said.
Thankfully before any words were exchanged, George called to his daughter to come. Though that didn’t ease his nerves at all. In fact it had quite the opposite effect.
Awkwardly he sunk into one of the seats around where, at night, there would be a fire, and stared into the black coals that were there now. He was thinking too much, about all this, getting too nervous.
He wondered what Deirdre would say; as of course she reached his mind again. Her words of consolation would be marvelous right about then.
And with that, he pictured her with him at that very moment, sitting beside him, smiling softly. Or standing behind him. Hands on his shoulders, rubbing them comfortingly, trying to ease his nerves.
“You are worrying too much Paul, it’s so unlike you,” He imagined her laughing softly. In his mind she was still dressed as a village girl, she had never left. In his mind, she wasn’t a countess, “Besides, you are the type of person one can’t help but develop a hopeless affection for. Trust me, you don’t have a thing to worry about.” She soothed him.
He so vividly imagined her there that he very nearly opened his mouth to reply to her. He then shook his head, wildly trying to erase that image from his head. What – where on earth had that come from!? Since when did he miss her so much that he was fantasizing about her being there? Joyce’s words about missing her more reached him, but he shook that out too as he thought about what the meaning behind those words were.
The sound of a door opening shook him out of his thoughts. He turned over his shoulder to see Joyce brushing out of the house she’d been speaking in. Paul met her eye for a split second but she glanced away quickly and moved to the quarters of her and her sister. Her face was beat red, but unsmiling.
That was, more or less, answer enough.
“She didn’t believe me at first.” George said softly, sitting next to him now. Paul hadn’t felt him come up, “ ‘Paul? No! He’s a friend father, but he would never consider me in such a way’. And to say she was distressed to hear I was serious, as well as you… well you can call it an understatement.”
He sighed in time with Paul and continued, “Would you be surprised if I told you she wants to marry the stable owner?” Another sigh at the silent shake of his head, “She’s stubborn when she needs to be, and I’m sure nothing would deter her from him. Not even me, though I wouldn’t want to, anyways.”
“I wouldn’t either.” Paul said at last, trying to make himself believe it, “If she loves him and he, her, then they should be married.” He sounded miserable, and almost childish. He took a deep breath and continued on a more mature tone, “She was obviously not the one meant for me, I suppose. I should probably talk to her though.”
“She is feeling rather put out. She’s in a tough situation, as she does like you, you know.”
“I know.” He tried to smile, “I’ll talk to her. Thanks for, ehm, trying.” He added stiffly.
“You’ll be okay?”
“I’ll be fine. Thank you though.”
Trying to keep himself from slipping into misery, as he went to convince his almost sweetheart that he was a-okay, he imagined Deirdre beside him again. Reiterating the words he thought in his head.
“It’s alright, Paul. She just wasn’t the one for you, in the world. There is one girl out there, one girl meant to be yours. She just wasn’t the one.”
 
Life in her cold hall was the most boring life in the world. Deirdre was willing to bet on that. Nothing of any importance happened really and lately her only excitement was the courtship letters of her unknown whom she still longed to meet… again.
He’d said ‘again’, in that last letter. She played in her mind every person she’d met at that ball. But all of them were so snotty, so, so not like the polite and funny young man writing her. Those letters could all be an act, she thought but shook that out the second she did. They weren’t, nothing that incredibly sweet could possibly be lie.
She figured she must not have met everyone there. He said that he wanted to see her again, it didn’t mean that he had spoken to her when he first saw her. Maybe he was nervous. That made her laugh; she could imagine that.
But even that did little to make her want to go to another ball, which someday soon she would have to. She’d love to see him, whether again or for the first time, but it was not enough.
Deirdre knew she had only got more insufferably miserable after her trip home, but she couldn’t help it. Seeing how much everyone had grown was a depressing though, she could not help it. Damian had reached adulthood without her. Paul had fallen in love.
Why the thoughts of Paul with beautiful bubbly Joyce bothered her, she did not really know. They were adorable, or at least he was adorable when he looked at her and just relaxed into a foolish grin. Maybe she just wished a man would smile that way at her…
She liked to imagine the lord she wrote to easing into the same lovingly ecstatic smile at the sight of her letters, just as she did for his. She wished she could see that. She wished she could see him… as she always did.
And that’s how her mind was divided; home, and her suitor. And switching her thoughts between the two left her feeling happy and empty within seconds of each other. Rather exhausting, she had to say.
“How have your letters been going?”
“My letters?” The princess reacted to the question different than Deirdre expected when posed.
“Aye, the letters.” She stressed, “To your suitor of choice.”
Julianne colored slightly, “Right, ehm, about those.”
“You HAVE been writing them.”
“Maybe.”
“Highness!”
“Well, I can’t – I can’t put my heart in them, I’ve never seen the person probably!” That wasn’t stopping her, though, she thought with a silent giggle, “Besides I still think about him.”
“Him…?” She wasn’t looking forward to this answer, she knew.
Another blush for that, “Well, I mean after the tavern meeting first and then-“
“And THEN! You saw him AGAIN!?”
“For your information, he found me at the ball you so wanted to leave!” She defended sourly, “Well, he found me when I was outside for air.”
“And alone…” Deirdre probed stiffly.
Princess Julianne gave her another hot glare, “Deirdre, you wouldn’t think he – we- no! No, he just spoke to me for a little bit. He seemed out of it, though, we didn’t talk long this time.”
“Highness…”
“We made no plans to meet again, mind you… but if he found me here…”
“JULIANNE!”
The anger dissolved at Deirdre’s frantic squeak. “You called me Julianne.” She said softly, “And not ‘highness’.” She was surprised, but pleased.
“Julianne- Highness – I-“
“Don’t! Please Deirdre, I’m happy you used my name. You are closer to a sister and a friend than just a ward and someone below me. I hate when you use that title.”
The earlier argument was all but completely erased now, Deirdre sighed. The Princess meant well, and she did feel close to her. But she could think of nothing to say now.
“I know I don’t compare to the family you left, and I know talking to me normally only ends with us arguing. But, I do consider you a sister Deirdre, and I hope you do too.”
“Of course I do, highness.” She felt tears come to her eyes.
“Julianne.”
“Julianne.” She amended, “And I only argue because I care, you know.”
Now the princess sighed, “I do. And I suppose I have to thank you for that. Whether I acknowledge it at the time or not, you are good to me.” And with that she wrapped Deirdre in a friendly embrace.
“Speaking of, I was going to say this before – well we were distracted by this.” She continued, now grinning at her, her eyes also rimmed in red, “I’ve arranged for you to return to your home village for a few days.”
“What? Why?” She couldn’t think of any reason to just appear.
Julianne shrugged, “There were some things, happening, my guards told me. Nothing bad happened and everyone is okay, but I think you need to spend some time there, to… you know… make sure.” She winked.
“Oh Julianne,” Deirdre whispered, hugging her close again, “Thank you.”
“It’s nothing, it’s nothing.”
She pulled back, “Now, don’t go running off with mysterious strangers while I am away… I’m beginning to think this plan wasn’t just out of the kindness of your heart.” She meant it to be scolding but only laughed.
Julianne did too, “I told you, he made no plan to meet me again. And the next ball is scheduled after you return.”
“Joy.”
More laughter, “So enjoy your days at home Deirdre. I will miss you, but it will make you happy.”
“It will,” She beamed, “Thank you.”
 
Paul had never been so happy to see a person in his life.
It had been shock, more than a shock when Ruth and Joyce pounded on his door one morning. Opening it he wasn’t sure what question he should even ask.
He didn’t have to though, as the information was too good to keep in, “Deirdre is here!” They squeaked in unison. Neither even waited for his dumbfounded reaction and took off to greet their friend and sister.
Standing in the doorway he couldn’t yet comprehend what was told to him. Deirdre? DEIRDRE!? But – Wha- What on earth was she doing back now! It was almost as though she had known how much he’d wanted to see her in the past few days. That was impossible though, but he was thankful for her presence all the same. More than thankful.
He didn’t know how long he’d stood mulling over the information but suddenly he focused to find her wandering to him. She was dressed in a gown for traveling and a similar cloak, looking much more like herself.
“You look like you were just told the meaning of life or some like piece of immensely important and treasured information.” She winked.
Paul laughed, and without a thought brought his arms around her in a millisecond hug. Dropping his arms he just grinned, “I’m glad to see you.” He simply said.
She looked at him in mild confusion, “I can see that quite well.” She said finally, with a small chuckle.
“Have you been harassed by the sisters yet?”
Deirdre beamed, “Not yet though I expect it soon. You, yourself, haven’t asked a question I’ve been waiting on.”
“What?” He replied stupidly.
“Why I am here.”
He laughed, of course that had been the only question in his mind, “Alright, fair enough. Why are you here, Deirdre?”
“I have no idea.” And with that she broke into the most delighted laughter that had her leaning on him for support.
Paul himself couldn’t hide his confusion at that, nor his own delight at her laughter. She was so happy to be here, he could see it. And of course, no mater the reason, he was happy to have her.
“Do I get an explanation?”
She lifted her head from his shoulder, and explained, “Her highness tells me a day ago that she has arranged my visit here for a few things – to catch up on events that have occurred in my absence… Paul’s what’s happened?”
Her laughter had died out in her words but Paul’s joy only grew. How on earth did fate know that he’d been so longing to tell Deirdre about the events that she had missed?
“There isn’t much but what happened is rather spectacular.”
“I cannot wait to hear – will you be telling it tonight, as Joyce has already declared another like party for my return.”
His foolish grin faltered, “Some of it can wait for around them…”
She caught on, “Some of it you want to tell me in privacy?”
“It’d be easier.” He said slowly.
“I can elude them for a few moments…” She pushed him into the doorway he’d been standing in and shut the door. Proving her words.
He couldn’t help but find it awkward, still standing incredibly close to her, now inside, alone. His heart did a familiar skip of a beat, which helped nothing. His heart had done similar tricks so often around Joyce. But this was Deirdre, his old friend. That was not a reaction he should get.
“So,” She said, her tone softer, “What did I miss?”
Paul took a breath, “Joyce is planning to get engaged,” He watched Deirdre’s face light up and quickly added, “To Neil.”
“Neil?” She whispered, now there was no hint of a smile on her lips. “She chose Neil over… you?”
The way she phrased that, like he was such a prize flattered him into a tiny smirk. “I suppose I’m not her type. And Neil is very good to her, the two of them I suppose, work better, together.”
She looked confused at his good humor, “Are you alright with this? You love, loved her so much, I know. I don’t think I could be- I could possibly be so calm about it as you are.”
That also flattered him, “It’s not easy, it probably won’t ever be. But I’m seeing it like, well, there’s someone out there for me, and she just wasn’t the one.”
“You amaze me.” Was her only reply.
“Thank you.” He smiled, “That’s all I wanted to tell you, that I couldn’t say in front of them.”
“I can imagine.”
Paul found himself embarrassingly reluctant to open the door, happy for this brief moment with just Deirdre. But at last he did, and as he escorted her out, thought of another thing to say, “How was the ball?” He’d heard a great deal about the ball hosted by the royal family, Deirdre’s first Royal court event.
She sighed; clearly this wasn’t a topic she cared much about. “Eh, it was annoying, it was infuriating. I am glad it is over, though I have another one when I return. Her highness will not let me miss it.”
He didn’t like the thoughts of her returning again, “And when is that?”
“I leave three days after tomorrow. The ball is the day after.” She replied glumly.
Ruth and Keith’s wedding was that day. An event he had so hoped Deirdre would be staying for.
Paul glanced at the lovely girl’s frown. She was miserable enough about the concept of leaving, without knowing of the joyous event she would miss out on.
He would not be the one to tell her.
 
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