|1.||Chapter One||Read it Now|
|2.||Chapter Two||See below|
|3.||Chapter Three||Read it Now|
|4.||Chapter Four||Read it Now|
|5.||Chapter Five||Read it Now|
|6.||The end||Read it Now|
|Roran ran a shaking hand through his dark brown hair, looking down at his dirty knees, which were also shaking, breathing heavily as he brushed the dust from his un-tucked shirt. He rose from his hiding place behind the stacks of food crates; he’d been hiding there for quite some time now. But he feared not long enough. There were so many, many people. So much expected of him. He clumsily tiptoed across the dull, empty kitchen towards the window, knocking over a pile of saucepans. Stifling a yelp, he made a rushed attempt to set them right. Then pressed his burning forehead against the chilled glass of the window, cooling his temperature and cooling his nerves.|
A few minutes passed, Roran pulled back from the window and peered at the reflection; eyes dark and slightly widened like a fearful mouse against skin paper-white from nerves. His long dark brown fringe swept across the right side of his angled face.
His father’s voice boomed from within the hallway, calling his name. Roran jumped and scurried through the opposite door and into the bustling ballroom. The huge room was packed with aristocracy; Kings, Dukes and Lords, all very dapper in fine suits. Queens, Duchesses and Ladies wearing beautiful, and often unfortunately revealing, garments that made you wonder if it was really their daughters they had brought to show off this evening. The young girls whirled around in their rich, vibrant summer dresses, flicking their shimmering blond hair and flaunting their moves to the rhythm of the music, hoping to catch the eye of the apparently dashing young prince.
Roran cautiously made his way over to some neglected chairs at the corner of the room, keeping his head low so not to attract too much attention. He gingerly smiled at a group of pretty girls as he passed, but they paid him little regard and only a few smiled back.
From his shabby seat he dropped his head and peered out with one deep, dark brown eye. A shadowy silhouette of a girl captured his attention; he raised his head and brushed the hair from his face, rubbing his eyes in disbelief. She could just be made out from behind a body of girls in pastel shades. He relished the way she stood out from everyone else, how she didn’t follow the crowd. Her long dress fit like a glove enhancing her slender outline, her glistening black hair framed a pale yet graceful face. As he observed, he perceived another intriguing little character hovering above her, it was so miniscule it was a wonder he’d ever caught sight of it in the first place. Compelled by both the ethereal girl and her capricious companion, he misplaced his nerves for a while and advanced in their direction.
|Review this Story >>>|