Chapter 12

Day after day, road after road. Always the same thing. Just Michael and me. It's better than being alone though. I'm not always just thinking in the silence. Michael will tell stories, and I will tell him about Cecilia. Today is no different. I am looking for a memory that I have not already told. Only two days and already we are both struggling to find a story we have yet to tell the other. 

"I have told you so much about Cecilia, but I have yet to tell you how I met her...

My father, at the time, was desperate for me to pick a bride. He was so desperate, he sent me to an orphanage and told me that the first eligible girl I saw was to be brought back to the castle. As ridiculous as I thought it was at the time, I did as I was told. I had this Idea of what she would look and be like in my head. In my mind she was small, meek, and shy. She would have brown hair and green eyes, be pale, and have a gentle temper. That is not the girl I met on that rainy November afternoon.

When I arrived at the orphanage, I was greeted at the door by none other than Cecilia. I remember my first thought the moment I saw her. It was that she was the most beautiful creature I have ever seen.

Standing in front of me was a beautiful redhead. Her heart-stopping red hair was braided and fell down to her waist. With the exception of a few scarlet strands that collected around her stunning silver eyes. The cutest freckles were sprinkled delicately over her nose and cheekbones. So absorbed was I, in taking in her features, that I didn't see the expression on her face, until I heard her tone.

"Y-Your highness, do come in." She was annoyed and shocked, but mostly annoyed. I did not care. All I could focus on was her sweet voice. That voice as gentle as the wind, even in anger, and as sweet as a robin's song. When I walked in, I was quite surprised to see how clean it was. Most orphanages were no better than pig stys. Often times actually worse.  But not there. No, there were even murals beside the hanging lanterns. Beautiful ones at that. I shook my head in disbelief.

"Who painted those?" I ask, trying not to sound like a love struck puppy. I thought, just for a moment I saw a glimmer of pride in her eyes when she answered.

"Elisa did, sire." There is only one thing to trigger pride like the pride I saw in her eyes.

"Who taught Elisa?" That time she blushed. A moment of silence passed. I arched my eyebrow at her, but still she did not speak. "I expect an answer." I regretted my words, and my authority demanding tone when I saw her brush a tear away.

"I-I did." I was not surprised that it was she who taught the girl, I was surprised at the pain she tried to hide. I didn't push her to tell me more, for fear of hurting her.

"You are a fine teacher."

"Thank you, Sire." She said quietly. "Come, I am sure you have more important things to do than flatter an orphan girl. Miss Elber's office is just down the hall." I wanted to object to having more important things to do than tell her just how beautiful she was, but she was right, I did need to speak with Miss Elber. The hall was long, and the walk silent. Slowly, step by step, I grew more impatient, until finally, I burst.

"What is your name?" Once again, my tone came out authority demanding. She stiffened. A tense silence passed.

"Cecilia." Hate seemed to drip of that single, beautiful word. I wanted to apologize for my tone, but she didn't give me the chance.

"In here."

"I have still yet to apologize for the way I spoke to her." I say when I finish my story. "I just hope I get the chance."