White Hawk [Temporarily on hold]

Chapter 2

A/N: Sorry. Won't always do an author's note. Dedicated to zwerple because she took second place in the previously mentioned contest. And, as previously stated...it's long past time for me to follow through. I'm such a horrible human being. Plus, she's the reason I keep writing...otherwise, who else would scare me into continuing? Her threats are the kick I need to keep going! Thanks, hun! You're an amazingly loyal fan!

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“Lady Rosalia...it is time to awaken.”

Rosalia’s eyes blinked open, and she was surprised to find herself lying back on her bed, half-curled into a fetal position. Slowly, she sat up, stretching slightly. Her eyes focused on the older woman in front of her. “Where’s Rhea?” she asked, confused. “Last thing I knew, she was brushing my hair...”

The woman chuckled. “My lady, that was a good hour ago. When you fell asleep, Rhea deemed it proper to let you sleep your cares away. Apparently you have not been feeling well today?”

Good old Rhea...always covering for her. Rosalia straightened. “I wasn’t earlier, but I am feeling much better now.” And she was. Her head was a bit clearer, and she felt refreshed. “Although I probably won’t be sleeping much tonight now.” She smiled slightly.

“The kitchen can always send up a pot of soothing tea later, should you find it necessary.” The elderly maid dipped her head. “But for now...it is nearly time for dinner. Your father requests that you dress a bit nicer for tonight, as there will be company.”

Dinner guests? Whatever for? And who? Rosalia frowned, but nodded. “Very well. Send Rhea in; she always knows what I should wear.”

“I’ll go get her, my lady.”

The woman’s tottering footsteps faded as she exited the bedchamber. Rosalia watched her go, feeling sympathy for the older woman. Perhaps it was time to let her retire in peace, with a sizable sum for all of her years of hard work. It had to be hard, trying to keep up with the younger servants around her. Yes, she would bring up Cheryl’s employment with her father later. If the woman needed the work, well, then, Rosalia was sure there could be another job more suitable for someone of her age.

Rhea’s appearance drew her from her thoughts. “You called?”

“I need your help in getting ready for tonight. Father wants me to look nice. We have dinner guests apparently.”

“Ah, but of course. I have just the dress...”

Rosalia watched, as Rhea disappeared into the closet - which was more of a room, really - and rummaged around. Within moments, the maid reappeared, looking pleased and holding a small mound of silky fabric draped over her arm. Rhea held up the emerald green dress. “This will make your hair look golden,” she beamed. “You will look stunning in this.” Rosalia touched her hair self-consciously, her cheeks coloring ever so slightly.

“I don’t want to attract attention from unwarranted suitors,” she said uncertainly. Rhea shook her head.

“Rosalia, you attract attention just being you. Your smooth complexion, your delicate figure, your beautiful hazel eyes, and that light brown hair that just shines in the light...I would die to have your hair, instead of this red mess of mine.” She ran a hand through her red curls in exasperation.

“I love your hair; you know I do. It’s such a unique color. So vibrant, so pretty...I’m stuck with hair that can’t decide whether it’s blonde or brown!”

Rhea made a sound of protest. “It’s beautiful. Don’t lie to yourself. Now...are you going to put this on or not?”

Rosalia accepted the folds of fabric. “Fine.” With Rhea’s help, she slipped into the dress, and turned to inspect her reflection in the mirror. Rhea’s deft fingers quickly did up the ties in the back, as Rosalia gasped. “I haven’t seen this one...”