chapter two

chapter two of the book that is tentively called legacy

 

It seemed I would not need the Prince’s help today, as I arrived at the house breathless, my heart pumping manically, sweating enough to make a pig jealous, and completely flushed.

Melina looked up sharply at my arrival, her usually delicate features screwed up in a sneer.  My eldest sister, it seemed, had gone all out for the occasion.  She wore a tight-fitting red dress that showed off her curves, and had a slit that went all the way up her leg to show off her freshly tanned skin.  It was a scan tan since Melina never got a real one because she was terrified of getting skin cancer. It was a smart idea, except that nobody had gotten skin cancer in over a century.  But that was my sister for you.

Her face was layered with various tones and blushes that made her usually soft, pretty face look sharp and angular, but still stunningly beautiful.  Her hair hung loosely over her shoulders, but she must have had a shine up because her usually honey-blond curls were positively glowing.

"There you are," she snapped viciously, pulling me out of my reverie. "Finally decided to grace us with your presence have you?"

I didn’t have a chance to respond as I was suddenly surrounded by servants attacking my face with make-up brushes, styling my hair and scraping mud off my dress. Thank goodness I had thought to put it on this morning or they would have been trying to redress me as well, and that would have been--interesting.

Immy, however, was not so preoccupied.

"Give it a rest Mel." She muttered exasperatedly, leaning back against the wall.

Imogen could not have been more unlike Melina, and I mean that in every sense of the word.  Where Melina was darkly tan with blond hair, Imogen was ivory pale with raven black hair.  Where Melina was short and curvy, she was tall and thin.  Her features were naturally more angular than Melina could ever achieve with makeup or surgery; and her eyes, rather than being a light blue, were dark green and heavily lidded.  She was still just as beautiful, but in a harsher, more subtle kind of way.

Her outfit couldn’t have been more contrasting either.  She, unlike the rest of us was not wearing a dress but rather had Laser black pants and a dark t-shirt, complete with arm webs and a black collar.  I could only remember seeing my sister dressed up-and by dressed I mean actually wearing a dress- twice. She certainly wasn’t going to change that now, not for something like this. 

            She was, however, wearing a pair of chameleon shoes.  People called them invisible shoes, but they didn’t make it look like your shoes were invisible so much as they looked like they were made out of some blurry substance.  They were about as fancy as my sister got.

That brought me to the last thing about her.  She, unlike everyone else, wasn’t brimming with anxiety or excitement.  She was dead bored.  I know she would have preferred to hide up in her room and read while the Prince was here, but mother made her come.  Still, I was surprised she wasn’t trying to smuggle a book in anyway.

“Darcy,” my mother said wearily, coming over to me and straightening the dress along my hips, “You really shouldn’t leave things for the last minute, sweetheart.” Her voice was soft, but I could sense the strain behind it.

I looked at my mother worriedly. Lyrissa Jefferson was one of those people who always had a smile on her face, even when smiling seemed impossible.  It made her look younger, in my opinion.  Even with the age lines that were starting to become prominent, she still looked like the beautiful mother I had always known.

But now her face looked more lined than I ever remembered, and I could see a thin sheen of sweat lining her soft auburn hair.  Her hands lifted from my dress and moved until they were resting on my shoulders.  She smiled and ran her hand along my cheek, and for a minute I forgot my concerns, all of them.

            Then our welcoming system informed us of a visitor.  We barely had time to collect ourselves before the door opened and in walked Prince Nathaniel.

 

To describe the Prince, I mean, really describe him-would be impossible.  Sure I could mention his long, waving golden hair; deep, ocean blue eyes and full lips; flawless copper skin; but that doesn’t really say anything about him.  He was a guy that would walk into the room and you would be like, “Is this a dream? Because there’s no way a guy could ever be that hot…”  And he wasn’t just hot, he was gorgeous; straight jawline, jutting cheekbones, almond eyes, and a perfectly symmetrical face.  And of course, he had the build, body, and muscle tonnage to go along with all of that.  He was a guy with which a mere casual look could send a girl’s heart into her throat, whose voice could make a Blazecraft purr sound hoarse and weak in comparison.  The guy who always knew exactly what to say to make you feel, even for a second, that you were the luckiest and most desirable girl in the world.  The guy that was a stranger to me, and the guy that was staring at me. 

I averted my gaze and when I looked back after a few moments he was no staring in my direction.

“Thank you so much for inviting me, Mrs. Jefferson.”  He murmured, his low tone carrying across the room.  I think my heart skipped a beat.

“Oh your welcome, we love having you over, your Highness." My mother cooed in a surprisingly cheery voice, considering how stressed she had looked earlier.  We all curtsied respectfully and Nathaniel smiled. I felt the side effects-the heart racing, skin flaming, insanely red blushing kind of side effects- coming already. Lovely, I groaned.

“All the same, I appreciate it. In fact, I brought you a little gift, Madam.”

My Mother trilled, “For me?  You shouldn't have.”

He grinned as he reached behind his back and pulled a single red rose out from under his jacket. He presented it to her with a flourish and bow, “for my favorite hostess.”  

Mom blushed in a shade that rivaled mine.

“How sweet, you’re always such a gentleman.” He smiled again, but this time it was directed at me. I gulped, trying to fight my reactions, and failing epically.

“Excuse me, but I believe we’re supposed to be having dinner,” Imogen interceded. She seemed to be the only female in the room who wasn’t in a daze. Her tone was nonchalant, though I could hear a trace of annoyance underlying it. I was probably the only one who did.

‘Right, of course,” my mother said, jolting herself out of her trance. “Let’s all head into the dining room.”

Slowly everyone began filing out until only the Prince and I remained. He locked eyes with me.

“After you,” he said politely.

My heart fluttered as I turned to follow, his gaze burning a hole in the back of my neck.

Due to an unlucky course of events, I ended up sitting across from the Prince. This made it very hard for me to concentrate on not looking idiotic and actually getting my food inside my mouth, instead of around it.  Because of this, I was having a very difficult time keeping up with the conversation. When I did speak, my thoughts were jumbled, confused, and awkward. My stomach seemed to be getting tighter with every passing second, so I tried not to talk much.

 My sisters were quite different form me. Imogen was politely detached, responding only to questions directed to her or only when it was clear no one else knew the answer. Her disinterest in our guest couldn’t have been more obvious, but then, my sister had never really been close to him. Their interaction had always been minimal, existing only because of the common company they shared. 

If I thought my estrangement from Nathaniel had been drastic, it was nothing compared to what happened between Imogen and him.  There had been a time when they would spend hours talking about books or laughing at each other’s jokes, but those times were gone, and I don’t think either of them wanted them back.

Melina was the exact opposite, as usual. She seemed to have a personal vendetta against silence. As soon as there was a break in the chatter she was filling it with pointless and off topic babble, at least in my opinion. She wasn’t willing to relinquish control either. The only person she would pause for would be the Prince, though as soon as he was done she would fawn over whatever he’d just said, smiling flirtatiously at him while smacking her lips and tossing her long hair. I would think that my sister, being the boy expert, would know not to be so obvious; but I guess it didn’t matter, since he wasn’t watching her anyway. He was watching me.

Every time I looked up I could feel his eyes on me. Even when he spoke to my various family members, his gaze lingered on my face. The intensity of it seemed to burn my skin off, leaving me exposed.  So I tried to focus my attention on something, anything, else. Unfortunately, unlike my family, he seemed determined to keep me involved in the conversation.

“Darcy” he started, his voice pleasant and inviting. “How familiar are you with our nation’s present security situation?”

I set down my cup. “You mean the rebellion.” I responded firmly, cutting to the chase. With one sentence I had transformed from the socially inept dinner attendee to the bold and articulate one. I may have been completely hopeless when it came to friendly chatter; but when it came to politics, I was unrivaled.

The Prince inclined his head. “That’s not its official name.”

“That’s what it is,” I countered.

“Excuse me,” he smiled, as though amused, I felt a flicker of annoyance. “But I believe rebellion would imply that they are actually a threat, which they aren’t.”

“Then why are they labeled as a security situation?” I contended.  To some, it might seem I was being a little inappropriate; this was a royal after all.  But Nathaniel had made it clear to me a long time ago that he didn’t want to censure our arguments, and I assumed that still stood.  I was probably being a little too bold, however, but he didn’t seem to mind.  On the contrary, his lips curled up in an interested smile and his eyes sparkled as he cocked his head to one side, making me feel like I was a rather fascinating display he had just discovered. I blinked, momentarily forgetting what was going on.  He must have sensed this, because his lips spread into a full on grin, revealing his white, fluorescent teeth. 

“So, if you are so informed, then you must have heard of Jason Race?”

There was a crash, and then a scream.  Everyone’s eyes darted toward the kitchen, a sudden tenseness settling over us as we listened, and waited.

 

Author's Note

I am aware that I need to make my writing more concise, but I am finding this difficult as it is my natural writing style to over-elaborate. I'll being slwly working on that as I go along. I still want those hard-core reviews.

Reviews

[Jacques]

writing error - instead of this he seamed determine to keep me involved in the conversation. use this one instead - he seemed determined to keep me involved in the conversation . I can't notice any errors but focusing on your story - it seems to be moving very good and in a medium paced and satisfying way and i'm constantly thinking of where and what can come of this story and how many new directions it can take because i'm sure there are many and the characters are easy to read and well - written and reflective and relatable in some aspects which is good for a story - to have someone to relate too . great job and i will review more soon .