34
"What you perceive to be real is merely a cover over the painful truth which is the only thing that is undeniably real," Delilah uttered almost to herself confusing the red head even further.
"Something did happen between the two of you. Why won't you tell me?" She pleaded.
Delilah looked away feeling cold at the thought of revealing how broken she felt inside, "Why don't you ask him?"
Cecilia made a sound that was mix between a sob and whimper. She got up on her feet to walk away so she could stew in silence about her cousin's predicament but Delilah's voice stopped her.
"I know I am being a horrible sister to you," Delilah looked up mournfully, "This is your month, your time, I should be accompanying you everywhere and yet you must contend with my various troubles."
"I don't mind, you've always been the one to hold my hand whenever I got into any of my various scrapes," Cecilia shrugged, "Though getting out what troubles you is harder then squeezing water out of rock."
Delilah smiled sleepily, "Don't take your anger out on that frock. You know how hard it is to get the wrinkles out of velvet."
Cecilia looked down at her dress which she had been clutching quite intently, "We are leaving soon so it doesn't matter any more but I'll change. We've got a long day tomorrow."
Cecilia discarded her clothes and slipped into night shift as soon as she closed the doors of the doors dividing the living room and the sleeping space in their suite. After taking time to wash her hair and selecting the next day's outfit Cecilia walked back to her single bed and looked at the neighbouring one in disapproval. Delilah was still brooding next to the fireplace surrounded by the choking cloud of negativity that Cecilia had failed to penetrate time and time again. She huffed and marched down the room to convey her disappointment but as she flung the ornate doors open her voice disappeared in her throat.
Delilah was not alone. Prince Damian was leaning over her cousin and had been caught in the middle of stroking a hand down her pale face. A quick looked confirmed that the brunette was fast asleep and completely unaware of the invasion of privacy. The man's eyes widened comically seeing Cecilia's furious face staring at him. He took a step backwards probably intimidated by what spelled in Cecilia's murderous green eyes. Before he could say something she swiftly grabbed hold of one of his hands and pulled him into the bed room and closed the door behind them.
Cecilia released his painfully squeezed hand and hissed, "WHAT are you doing here?"
"I needed to talk to her," Damian replied contritely.
"In the middle of the night?" Cecilia pulled at a strand of hair in frustration.
"Considering she will not talk to me, or even entertain the thought of being in the same room as me I thought it would be best if she were unconscious," Damian pouted like he hadn't aged since he was seven, "Has she said anything about me?"
"No, she still doesn't want to meet you and I want to know why?"
"I might have behaved a little recklessly though I still don't think I did anything wrong," Damian babbled uncharacteristically.
"I should have known it was your fault," Cecilia grumbled, "So what was it?"
"I kissed her, I know it was impulsive and a very very wrong idea but-" He stopped his tirade when Cecilia placed a hand on her face and started giggling.
"That's it? I should have thought she had seen you committing murder. Are you sure she didn't see you kissing some other girl?"
"No, I am certain that the lips mine touched were hers," Damian unconsciously pressed his own lips in remembrance.
"Well, you are a lucky man you were born a prince, otherwise with your brains..."
"I know, I know, Delilah would never condone such amorous behaviour, believe me I have been ruing it every day since she has been avoiding me. Will she even attend the final ball?"
"Be patient. I will convince her eventually the Ball is worth her while. All you need to do is give her space so her impulse to throw things at your face goes away," Cecilia couldn't help but add making the Prince look more sorrowful. He looked like he wanted to argue but instead he pulled out a small packet from his coat's inner pocket.
"Make sure she wears this on that night," He added, looking away from Cecilia's probing eyes, "I planned to give her much more but I doubt she'll want anything from me much less jewelry. It's just a simple gift."
Cecilia pulled out the present from its wrappings and plucked it carefully, "I promise."
"Cecilia!" Delilah called out, furiously, trying to make sense of her nearly empty wardrobe.
"Do I sense a hint of anger?" Cecilia peeked in their bedroom with eyes twinkling mirthfully. Her cousin's mood had cleared greatly over the days. She had even taken to spending time in the library which was quite miracle the first time she decided to step out of the room. The sadness still lurked in her eyes but the improvement was undeniable.
"Yes, yes and yes. When I told you to start packing I did not mean for you to send all of my wearable outfits into the trunks," Delilah raised her hands in exasperation.
"If that's what you call wearable," Cecilia snorted.
"Yes, they were extremely wearable. The Final Ball is tomorrow and I need to wear something that isn't cotton."
"Oh, whatever will you do," Cecilia mocked teasingly making Delilah wonder how much rum she had stolen from the kitchens.
"None, I assure you but I am quite clever you must agree. I have an outfit for you all ready to wear just in case you found nothing suitable," Cecilia explained while avoiding getting hit by a pillow.
"I knew you were upto something," Delilah rolled her grey eyes and sat down on her bed with her arms crossed.
"If you go back to the day of the fair you'll remember I went missing for some time. I was actually with our friends searching for the perfect dress for you. It wasn't easy since all the tailor had were these odious, gaudy designs but I finally found something I know you will like. You are my cousin and I know you give me a great sacrifice by chaperoning me when you are the one who should be chaperoned. I would not have had this experience without you and I wanted to thank you," Cecilia placed her head on her cousin's shoulder. It had been a long time since she could share a quiet moment with her.
"I need no thanks," Delilah smiled softly, "I wouldn't have missed your coming out for the world."
"So," Cecilia sat up abruptly, "Are you looking forward to the final dance?"
"Cecilia..."
"I know, I know, but I am your cousin and I know you well enough to see a bit of your heart if not completely. He will choose you," Cecilia placed a hand on her cousin's confidently.
"Why must every conversation about the final dance be so tedious? The only thing I look forward to is our journey home," Delilah's hands clenched into fists.
"Your sense of fun is so lacking." Cecilia whined, "I won't badger you about the dance if you promise me one thing."
"What is it?" Delilah looked up hopefully.
"You will allow me to do your hair and makeup."
"Absolutely not! I can suffer through whatever you make me wear but not your attempts on my face. I remember what you did you me during Lady Winthrop's coming out ball," Delilah shuddered in remembrance.
"It was very long time ago," Cecilia pouted.
"Four months is not a long time and I had purple lips."
"But I've learnt so much in these months and I don't know when we will have the chance to attend anything at the royal palace ever again. Please, please, please!"
Delilah gnawed at her lip but let herself agree to her cousin's incessant pleading. It was easier if she said her goodbyes now and left behind the burden she felt in her heart in the place where everything had begun.
__________________________
Damian was not surprised by how unprepared he was for the final Ball. He should have a list of all the suitable girls he should dance with; he should have talked to his parents; the girl he had selected should at least have acquiesced to his proposal but nothing had gone his way that day. It was still raining, the guests were to arrive in an hour and he still hadn't had the opportunity to meet Delilah. It was like that damned kiss had created an impenetrable force around her which he could not break through in spite of all his troubles.
"Look at 'im. Ee's shaking like a nervous leaf," Damian's friends tittered gleefully while he looked at his pocket watch a hundredth time over.
"I am merely trying to keep up with the schedule," The Royal used up all his will power to not let his hands form fists which would probably goad his friends even further.
"And worrying if the girl's going to turn up," Another man added with a laugh.
"What if she doesn't?" A dandy named Alfred voiced Damian's concerns with the most nauseatingly flippant tone. The Prince mentally cancelled the man's name from his invitation list for the next thing he would host.
"Who would know? He's the Prince. He could point at any girl that catches his fancy and she'd be at his side in an instant," Lady Caramel, more known for her nickname then anything else, said, "I mean, what girl wouldn't say yes to him."
"True," Beatrix finally opened her mouth from the corner she was sitting in, "Damian is the cream of the crop. No girl would be foolish to say no."
"I'm sure there are many women who find me repugnant," Damian sat down on one of the armchairs with a falsely confident smile on his face. He discretely checked the gold pocket watch again.
"Indeed, I do not disagree but marriage can't always be about love. While I have been lucky to have found my soul mate, most women compromise in this area."
"Oh, please," Lady Caramel rolled her eyes, "Damian has the looks, the charm, the eyes, and the build. And let's not forget that small crown you see on his head is not merely an ornament. His coffers are drowning in gold. A woman would be blind to not appreciate the specimen that he is. There is nothing his wife would lack."
Damian gently patted the small band of gold around his head. His advisor had insisted he wear the ceremonial crown on his head. It was light weight and so golden it nearly blended with his fair hair which was why he had chosen it in the first place.
"Ladies, do not fight on my behalf. Your argument in the end is ultimately the same. No one would refuse me if I chose them," Damian interjected with a faltering smirk.
Beatrix was the nearest so she was able to whisper to him without much strain to her neck, "I cannot believe you are still worried. That root lover of yours will never reject you. She is older then the average debutant and that diminishes her prospects dearly. If not for you she would choose to accept for her family. Then you can woo her all you want. I know you have a way of making people fall in love with you."
"My parent's marriage is arranged and their courtship was so formal. My mother did not even know he would choose her until the final dance but now they are more besotted then any love match that I know," Damian swallowed the harsh reality of the situation that the woman he wanted might choose him for motives other than love.
"What does your mother say about your future bride?"
"Nothing. She keeps my father company more than me and the words we have shared on this topic are minimal. She still believes I will choose no one. I am uncertain whether she will be content with my decisions. My future has been tainted by my actions in the past although I am positive she will come around. My mother seems oddly fond of a girl she barely knows.
"They have already met?" Bea arched an eyebrow, "My, my and you believe your lady love does not know of your inclinations."
"The meeting was accidental and not of any design. My mother seems to think I am only playing with her feelings. Am I such a brute that my mother critiques me so severely?"
"This Ball must be bringing back a lot of unpleasant memories for her. She had her heart set on the girl she had chosen before," Bea uttered softly.
"I wonder... I wonder how things would have gone if I had chosen my mother's choice. She could have been the ideal partner. My strength, my guide and carrier of my deepest affection," Damian wondered out aloud.
"But you did not love her," His friend sighed.
"I could have grown to love her. Are you not insinuating that De-she will have to make the same compromise, that she will choose me for the worldly benefits of my status."
"Who said she doesn't like you. She spent more time with you then away. Her eyes follow you as much as yours follow her. In any case your aim should be to get her by your side. You can weave whatever epic love stories you want with her later. Why do you think I support you in your decision when she barely meets your usual standard of women?"
