The Ugly Prince

Somewhere Only We Know ~ Part One

Chapter Twenty- Four

Somewhere only we know

Crickets had played their little clickety croaky songs throughout the moonlit night, before the rain had spooked the tiny orchestra into hiding; as giant black clouds overshadowed the peaceful night sky playing its own endless plummeting tune.Though the songs of the late night insect orchestra andNature's seasonal downpour were songs of the forest that lullabied one to sleep, itslullaby's was unable to subsideher overworking and excited mind.As she lay on her back above the bedcovers staring at the plain ceiling, before casually looking back to the window that she had left open after discovering Drake's not and flowers. The window clean and open that allowed the crisp summer's breeze in to cool her overexcited face,where she saw the first signs of autumnbecome slowly present through herwindow as she stared at the small bouquet of daisies she had put into a small lilac glass bottle.

Before she had put herself to bed hoping for sleep to help calm down her nervousness of seeing him again, she kept recalling his note that she had folded away under her pillow. Somehow from reading it a few times she somehow found herself remembering it from word to word as if she had practiced for an important recital. Or perhaps the words he had written to her were powerful to flood her blissfully and nervously through her pillow to her head, embedding the words deep into her mind like a plaguing romance that caused her to be restless and wide awake. However the last few lines of the note recited themselves delightfully hauntingly replaying over and over again in her head "I want to see you again and I hope the small bouquet is to your liking, I know it's one of your favourites, Drake."

It's what she wanted too, before she discovered his note and even more now afterwards. The need to see him again was so strong and overpowering that it was consuming her with her utmost permission. All she could think of was him, her heart raced for him, the promising of kissing him if he guessed rightly made her blush deeply for she would have to hold that end of the promise. To kiss him was so otherworldly so unimaginable she couldn't imagine it, but the thought of doing so spread a warming giddy smile on her face. The other promise however; that she had promised herself for years began to remerge, she had swore a promise that she would marry any young man who guessed her favourite flower who wanted to have her hand in marriage. And now it happened to the most kind and gentle young man she had ever met had guessed rightly, and she so desperately wanted to be with him she could only hope that he felt the way she did.

For hours she lay on top of her bed covers unable to sleep and watched night turn into a new day, the day she would see him behind her house behind the old oak tree. She got up from her bed feeling strangely still widely awake and energetic, the smile on her face still present from the many happy thoughts of him and the many possibilities she hoped would come. Sitting on the edge of her bed she looked at her open window looking at the bright gentle rays of sunshine fill her room, she walked towards the rays of warming light soaking in its warmth as she leaned out of her window breathing in the clean air. Bringing herself back in she lifted the small lilac bottle of daisies to her nose breathing in it subtle sweetness, before placing it delicately back on her window as she made her way to the door exiting into the passage. She almost found herself skipping out of her room with a small bounce in her step into the small passage, until she stopped before entering the front room that was connected to the kitchen as she could hear the early morning chores of her parents in the room. She could hear the cherishing sound of the scraping of metal on metal, which was joined the sound of slight whiskingand the smells of oats and warm milk that brought back what felt like a distant memory of mother's autumn oaty porridge. Then the sound of clanking and the rough sliding that followed soon after by the scent of freshly cut logs upon a small building pile, she remembered on days like these at this time of year how busy her father was to chop and collect firewood for the arrival of winter.