Chapter 2

A Chapter by Rose of Gondor

I pulled on the drawstrings of my silk money pouch, closing it, and strapped it onto the sash that tied my kimono. Lan greeted me gravely by the door.

“Where does Milady desire to go today?”

I wished Lan would just stop calling me “Milady”! It seems like the servants’ respect grew overnight for me, since Papa announced to them yesterday that I was to marry Prince Rin. I despise all the attention I am getting. It makes me embarrassed. And I really don’t want to be reminded that I’m betrothed to someone.

I sighed. “It’s alright, Lan. You don’t have to follow me today. I’m just going to Auntie Lee’s teashop.”

Lan stared me for a moment, her brows furrowing together. “Are you sure, Milady"”

“Yes,” I interrupted, without turning, “Yes. I’m sure. Really, Lan, I’ll be fine on my own.”

Lan looked doubtful. I flashed a smile and walked on, telling the butler to open the gates for me. I’m not surprised that Lan doesn’t trust me. The last time I went by myself, I got lost and Papa had to send a bunch of his soldiers after to me in order to find me. But really, I know where Madame Lee’s teashop is. It was where we always bought our tealeaves, and occasionally, Mama would take me to enjoy a cup of tea. Mama said that she knew Auntie Lee, whom I’d been taught to call Madame Lee or Auntie Lee, from a long time ago, when both of them were just children.

She is a kind woman, in her late-forties, with dark hair usually up in a stiff chignon and gray eyes that seem full of wisdom. Her advice is as good as her tea, if not better, and if I have any means of keeping myself sane at all, it has to be Auntie Lee’s advice.

I crossed the street. Auntie Lee’s teashop wasn’t too far from our house, and Papa had permit me to go un-chaperoned when I turned eleven. Since then, I’ve walked this path over and over again so much, I’ve memorized it.

I turned left and continued onwards. Arriving at the teashop, I went in, ringing the bell on the counter. “Yes?” a girl came to the counter. She was about my age, wearing a yellow kimono. Her long black hair was tied in the same fashion mine was"two loops on either side of the head and the rest worn down. She bowed. I bowed back.

“Is Aunti"no, Madame Lee in?”

“Not at the moment, but I’m her daughter. I can relay your message.”

“I’m Mayflower Hsia. My mother is a good friend of hers.”

Her eyes widened.

“So you are the Lady Hsia’s daughter! I’m Chrysanthemum Lee. Perhaps I can help you today. Would you like some tea?”

She smiled and walked from behind the counter.

I nodded, smiling. “Yes please.” Drawing a few coins from my purse, I paid her first, and followed behind her.

Chrysanthemum led me up a few flight of stairs up to the third floor. The staircase was elaborate and the sides were of carved wood. We sat down at a tea table on the balcony.

“So is it true that you are betrothed to the younger son of the emperor?” she tried to keep her tone casual as she beckoned for a maid to pour tea for us both, but I could hear the curiosity in her voice.

“So our servants gossip,” I muttered bitterly, taking a sip. The refreshing taste filled my mouth. I swallowed. Ah, mint tea.

Chrysanthemum flinched. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think… I’m sorry.”

I smiled at her. “It’s okay. I just don’t believe Papa would marry me off so soon…”

Chrysanthemum smiled, “Come now. It can’t be that bad. After all, you’ll be a prince’s wife.”

I sighed, shaking my head.

“All hail the prince Rin!” It was then that the cry echoed through, interrupting us. I sighed, rolling my eyes. “I wonder what he’s up to.”

I glanced at Chrysanthemum. She glanced at me. I smiled. She smiled.

We stood up at the same time, walked to the balcony, and looked down.

I looked down several staircases at the prince I had met yester day in his same black kung-fu suit, laughing. I really don’t know what compelled me to laugh. But from atop, I could see his short-haired head so clearly, and everyone was either staring at him or staring at me. I nearly bent over with laughter, standing from a high balcony.

“Stop it, Mayflower,” said Chrysanthemum seriously, the girl I just barely met, “The Prince is not to be laughed at.”

“And why not?” I asked, still laughing.

“Because the last time someone laughed at him,” Chrysanthemum told me, “He sent an army after them.”

“I don’t think he would do that to me. I am betrothed to him.”

“I don’t think he cares.”

I looked down at Prince Rin curiously, wondering what would happen had he noticed me laughing at him.

I couldn’t help it. I needed to know what would happen. And so I forced myself to find every single detail in him that made me laugh and I burst into guffawing laughter. In that moment, his head snapped up, a murderous glint in his eye as he looked directly at me.

I smiled gracefully and waved at him.

“Come on,” I said, barely able to contain a few giggles, hooking Chrysanthemum’s arm, “Let’s go down.”

She fidgeted for a moment before walking, and I had to half drag her to the staircase.

“Mayflower,” she mumbled nervously, “Why are we going down? The prince…he’s obviously seen you laughing!”

I grinned at my friend.

“Just keep on walking,” I told her, biting on the insides of my cheeks to keep from laughing.

We finally reached the end of the staircase, descending to where the prince is.

He gave me a death glare, but said not a word.

“Your Highness,” I smiled sweetly at him, bowing to him and Chrysanthemum did so as well.

He glared on still.

Chrysanthemum and I continued.

“

See? There’s nothing to worry"”

Suddenly she dragged me, darting through a small ally, ducking behind a rock.

“Look at this,” she gestured to the streets, “He obviously didn’t recognize you.” I was awed by what I saw, a group of well-armored men, marching through the streets.

Meanwhile, Chrysanthemum was untying her sash, revealing the trousers she wore under them. In fact, she was wearing a pair of blue trousers and a white kimono shirt under her yellow kimono. She tied her hair up, whipping out a sword that she had tucked into her belt, still sheathed.

“Chrysanthemum?” I asked uncertainly, feeling dizzy.

“I’ll fend them off,” she told me, “You go. Go.”

“But…”

“Go.”

“I can’t leave…”

“Just go!” And in that tiny fraction of a second, her sheathed sword was at my throat, the pointy end poking at my neck.

“Er…”

“Go. Now. Just go.”

I turned and darted back down the alley, thinking bitterly, Ugh. That was stupid, Mayflower. You should’ve listened to her! Then maybe neither of you would be in this mess right now. What would Mama say if she saw me right now? She’d be slightly amused and slightly annoyed. Alright. I’ll handle this situation that way. It’s better than to feel all panicky, like I’m feeling right now. Oh, God, what would Papa do if he knew?

Looking left and right for soldiers, I ducked through the crowd, trying to cross the street unnoticed"and then…oh god…I felt the blood leave my cheeks as I looked down at my feet. Oh god, please don’t let him recognize me….please don’t…

“Here’s our little flower,” said a man drily. I couldn’t see much, for I kept my gaze steadily on the ground, but one thing was sure, and that was that he was tall. He loomed over me. And he smelled terribly.

“Let go of me,” I exhaled shakily.

The man laughed. Then Prince Rin came towards us, pushing pedestrians out of his way,

“Who is it?” The prince asked sharply.

“What’s your name young maiden?” the man asked me.

I bit my lip. I wasn’t about to tell any one my name, not if by telling them my name, I could disgrace my father and my family. So I kept my head down, staring at my shoes.

“Well,” the soldier laughed, if you won’t tell me…” I felt his fingers close around my chin as he forced my face towards his.

In that single moment, I knew what I had to do. It was a crazy idea, a mad notion. But I acted it out nevertheless. I stomped on his heavy, black-booted feet, and as he fell back, elbowed him in the face. And then I ran like I’ve never ran before.

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© 2011 Rose of Gondor

Author's Note

Yea!!! I got to include my dream sequence here! I feel happy! Yea!!! Again, this is the total, complete rough outline of the story. Notice how I"m not even saying draft? I'm saying outline. Criticism welcome.