[lindsayx159]

Rating: 15+
Point of view: Third Person
Summary: This story is set in the 13th Century. Princesses, Kings, Queens, that sort of fun stuff. Even a little dash of magic, for you fantasty lovers.

Main Characters

Genevieve & Oliver

[lindsayx159]

Chapter 1: Dance Lessons

“One, two, three! One, two, three! One, two, three!” Sir Harold Benedict counted as he led her in the moderately difficult dance steps. “Keep your feet light, my Lady! Relax your shoulders! No, no!” he groaned sternly to her. “Genevieve, you must let the man lead!”

“Sorry, Sir Benedict.” Genevieve responded lightly. She dropped her hand from his shoulder, and took a step away from him. “I told you when we started these dance lessons, I’m dreadfully awful.”

“Oh no, my Lady, you’re just new to the dance. Believe me, I’ve seen much worse.” Sir Benedict hushed.

Genevieve found this hard to believe. She had been to other Balls before, and she had seen Princesses from other Kingdoms dance. They all moved with such grace, as though their feet did not even touch the glossy floors. She desperately wished she could dance like them, like a goddess.

“Alright, may I try again?” Genevieve asked as she smoothed her gown.
Sir Benedict nodded, and took her waist again. “Here we go. One, two, three! One, two, three!”

On the third count, Genevieve took one too many steps, crunching Sir Benedict’s foot through his leather dancing shoes. She then proceeded to fall gracelessly to the cold, hard marble floor.

Sir Benedict bit his lip to stifle a cry. “I think we’ve done enough dancing today, my Lady. Allow me to escort you back to your chamber.”

Genevieve silently agreed with a quick nod, and grabbed Sir Benedict’s hand to lift herself off of the floor.

Chapter 2: A Strange Meeting

“Here we are, my Lady. Until tomorrow,” Sir Benedict said with a bow. Genevieve nodded her head in return, and opened the solid wooden door to her bedchamber.

“Poor Harold,” she thought “I hope his foot is ok. These heels should be considered weapons,”.

She felt herself jump slightly when she saw a man in her chamber, laying on her bed. He obviously heard her start, and blinked his eyes open.

“Hello, there!” He said brightly, as he sat up from the fluffy white comforter.

“Hello,” Genevieve said in response, taking a step backwards. Who was this man lounging on her bed, and who was he to address her so informally?

“You won’t tell Matilda that I was slacking, will you?” He asked in a slightly playful tone.

Genevieve stared at him for a moment, then began to comprehend what was happening. Matilda was the Head Servant of the castle. He must be a new servant.

“Well, you’re new here, so I suppose I won’t.” Genevieve replied mercifully. She wouldn’t have told anyone, even if he hadn’t asked. She wasn’t one to get servants into trouble, she assumed that their lives were bad enough.

“Thanks,” the servant man smiled, still sitting on the bed. “So, you’re Princess Genevieve, huh?”

Genevieve was yet again shocked by his informality. “Yes,” she responded as she took a couple more steps into the chamber, towards the bed. “And you are…?”

“Oliver Fendrel, formerly of the village of Drayston. My mates back home called me Ol, you can call me that too.” He said with a smirk, as he fondled one of the little glass angels that had been on Genevieve’s nightstand. When Genevieve sat down next to him on the bed, he asked “May I call you Eve?”

Genevieve felt as though he had crossed the line, but she kept her composure. “Well, I don’t think that’s very respectful to me.” she said in a tight voice. “So, I must say no.”

Oliver chuckled gently. “Of course. How foolish a question!” He flipped his dark curls out of his placid, brown eyes. “Well, I should go. I’m supposed to hang this laundry. Goodbye, Princess!”

He stood abruptly as he bid Genevieve farewell, picked up the basket that was set near the end of the bed, and left the chamber. Once the door shut, Genevieve put her hand on her forehead, and fell back onto her bed.

“My dear lord.” she huffed, as she wiped her face.

[zelda534]

You're reposting this? Great! ^^ I read this story the previous times you posted it and I loved it. :D More please. :3

[lindsayx159]

zelda534 wrote: You're reposting this? Great! ^^ I read this story the previous times you posted it and I loved it. More please. :3

Yup!
It's been edited a lot, though! I like it better now, actually, and it's completely finished! I can't wait to get it all up. Thanks for reading!!

[zelda534]

......... More?
o.O

[cashyia-boo]

Wow, this is really good.
I encourage you to post more!

[lindsayx159]

Chapter 3: A Sleepless Night

Night.

All the kingdom’s asleep, peacefully floating in their own minds, tuning out the cold world surrounding their slumbering selves.

All except for Princess Genevieve. She laid in her warm bed, piled high with beautiful quilts, unable to reach the sweet, calm Eden which she yearned for. Her mind was racing.

She couldn’t stop herself from thinking about the servant boy.

What was so special about him, anyways? It couldn’t have been his looks. Sure, his big brown eyes were rather attractive, and his bouncy curls were slightly to her taste, and his physique wasn’t too bad, and his cheeks were so…

Okay, so maybe it was his looks. But that couldn’t be the whole reason.

Genevieve shifted under the quilts, and flipped onto her stomach. She pulled her arms up over her head and rested her cheek on her hands.

“Damned boy,” she whispered into her pillow. “keeping me up all night. I’m going to be a troll tomorrow morning.”

Genevieve grumbled, and continued to ruminate the insolent, yet perplexingly attractive servant man.

Chapter 4: A Restless Morning

“Bah dah dum… dum, dum, dum! Bah dah! Bah Dum! Bah dum!” Oliver sang softly to himself as he pulled on his worn trousers. He tucked his new button down shirt into them, taking extra care to not crinkle it when he pulled his belt around himself. He slid his favorite three-buttoned maroon vest on, and stepped in time with his voice to the full length mirror that was propped up against the wall in the main servant’s quarters. There was barely anyone around, for it was not even daybreak yet.

In the light of the candles, Oliver primped himself in front of the mirror, much like a woman would. He first assessed his stomach, pressing it down, then tightening his belt. He then stepped close to the mirror, his face only a pinkie’s width away. He proceeded to prod at the red bump on his chin, then the black dots around his nose, a look of disgust and disapproval spreading across his face. Finally, turning his head to the side, he observed his hair, particularly the one spot where it was thinning. He sighed, and wondered if he would be able to comb it just right so that it wouldn’t show. He began to reach for the comb that had been left on the floor besides the mirror, when he heard someone calling his name.

“Oliver?” the voice echoed through the stone chamber. “Oliver, is that you, there? Why are you up so early?”

Oliver saw Elizabeth’s reflection in the mirror as she walked through the door from the main corridor.

“Oh, I just, couldn’t sleep, is all.” Oliver stated, not bothering to give her the whole reason.

Elizabeth raised her eyebrows, and Oliver could tell that she really didn't believe him. “Well, alright.” She sighed, her voice displaying her disbelief. “Why don’t you go into the laundry room and start scrubbing the bins?”

Oliver, looking down at himself in his ‘best clothes’, then back at Elizabeth. “You know I would love to, Elizabeth, but…” He began as he tugged on one of his curls, and tried to come up with a practical excuse. “but I was just about to head down the stables to prepare the horses for the King’s afternoon ride.” He nodded, proud of his own wittiness.

“Oliver, that’s what the horse keepers are for,” Elizabeth began to say, until Oliver interrupted.

“They requested my help. Back home, I had a horse of my own, and she was the best kept horse in the region. You can’t not let me go, Elizabeth. They‘d be really upset…” Oliver said in a convincing voice.

“Fine, fine.” Elizabeth said, not wanting to get into an argument. “Just be sure you’re back in time for the ball preparations. All the servants will be needed to make this ball run smoothly!”

“I promise I’ll be back. Thanks, Elizabeth!” Oliver grinned, as he watched Elizabeth hurry back through the door.

Once she was gone, Oliver stared at himself in the mirror once more. Though he had tried to look his best, he felt as though he still didn’t look good enough. He patted his thinning spot of hair, and turned away from the mirror.

[narutochic77777]

Cool ^^

[lindsayx159]

More comments, loves?

[zelda534]

Yes; it's great. Add more. ^^