Crestfallen

A Woman's Past

Chapter Five

People were in a hurry as they rushed outside. A trumpet's sound means a royal visitor has arrived. Who could it be?

"Her Royal Highness! Queen Beatrice of March has arrived!" At the same time a woman, dressed in a long, lavish, pure violet gown with ash blonde hair wearing an accesory adorned with pearls, stepped out of the carriage. She turned her head to the crowd as they whisper and mumble, amd she observes the people surrounding her. She's looking for someone.

The door of the palaced was opened and the people made their way for her to enter. She walked apace while her eyes searched the room and the halls, very disappointed. Has Anastasia not buried their conflict from long ago? 

From the corner of her eye she saw a figure walking towards her. Might it be her son, perhaps? "Glad you arrived safely. Wouldn't you like to rest?" he uttered. My, the duke of  Iranne! A man she knows, well, used to know very well. "Such a suprise seeing you here, Francis. What brings you here?" she spoke with a bit of dislike, traced from her tone. "Don't be dense, I live here." he grinned. Her eyes widened at his response. "Right." she replied, embarassingly, but not too obvious that her ego will be affected. She is after all, a woman of pride and dignity. Simply, she glared at him.

"So Francis, when or where can I meet my son? I'm sure he is very excited to meet his mother." "You do not call simply call me 'Francis'. Have you no manners? You are not in March, so please, have respect. I am a duke here." It pains her, it pains her really. She would never get along with the family of Ronezavich, especially after her issue with Anastasia. However she does, plan on sorting things out with her for tension between two queens are irrational, when their husbands are the closest of friends. But Anastasia's brother, Francis, really ignites the inner turmoil within her. What a shame.

"Fine. Please, Sir Francis Ronezavich, Duke of Iranne, will you kindly escort me to Raien's chambers or wherever place he may be?" she said sarcastically, and Francis noticed it. He looked her in the eyes with ire, and she did the same. Suddenly, both of them were hit by a flashback of what they were once before.

A young lass and a boy of her age, were running towards the hills, barefoot, with the wind in their hair. They were having a great time together. "You wouldn't be able to catch me, even if you tried!" the lady shouted joyfully, looking back while running away from the lad. "Oh yeah? We'll see about that!" the lad ran faster, catching the girl and wrapping his arms around her, twirling her around in the fresh summer air, both of them giggling. Oh the joys of young love.

They layed down on the grass, facing the sky, looking at the clouds. "Beatrice, do you think-" he uttered, looking at her. "What?" she answered, facing him. "Do you think there is a chance we could be like this for, a lifetime?" he asked, troubling the lady. He knows she can't. He knows they can't. They both have different paths already set out for their lives and they don't have a choice but to take it. Thinking about it, is simply foolish. Even though it feels nice to dream of it. A life with the one you love. Such a luxury, a luxury them elites cannot have.

"In another world perhaps. If I were a milkmaid and you, a humble farmer, perhaps that we might even be married by now. Our son will probabbly be helping you with your crops, and our daughter helping me with the meal. What a wonderful dream." she chuckled, and he looked at her with agreement. He took her hand and placed a little dandelion between her fingers. "Here, make a wish. Wish that if we were born again, we would find each other, and fullfill our dream." She smiled, closed her eyes, and gently blew on the dandelion as pieces of it flew into the breeze.

"I love you, Beatrice." he placed his hand on her cheek, and leaned closer to her, exploring her face, from eyes to lips. "I..I can't Francis..I..we musn't even be seen together like this.." she stopped him and stood up, and brushed off the grass from her clothes. "I..I must go." she spoke, hesitantly. He can see it. He can see that she wants to stay if only her duties weren't confining her heart. "Beatrice I might never get to see you in such a long time so please!" he talked and walked closed to her, leaned in to her, cupping her cheeks with his hands.

"Francis, I am enganged to the King of March, if people see us-" he placed a finger on her lips, silencing her. "If people see us then it is most likely they'll take you away from me, so please, let us make our last moments worthwhile." She can't speak no longer, since she agrees with him completely. Risky as it is, but it's now or never. She leaned closer to him and placed her lips on his. A moment they wish would last forever. A kiss to be cherished for a lifetime.

How did things turn out to be like this? How can two lovers once so sweet turn into sour enemies? Both of them were thinking the same thought as they looked into each others eyes, seeing each others soul. She looked away, and took a deep breath, before facing him again. "Please, just...just take me to my son." she stuttered, trying to avoid eye contact. "How many years have passed since us, Beatrice?" he asked, making her feel uncomfortable.

"Mother? Is that you?" a distant voice can be heard from the hallway. Beatrice looked behind her to find her son running towards her. "Oh Raien! How I missed you dearly!" she spoke as she ran towards the boy. "My, how big you've grown! How old are you, love?"
"I'm eleven, mother! I have lots of things I wanna show you!" her son excitingly spoke, hugging his mother. Beatrice looked around, and Francis was out of sight. The heart, so cruel yet so beautiful, she thought.

|A/N| I just can't believe I wrote a mellow chapter like, RIP my 13 year old brain. Maybe I've been watching too much koreanovelas. Don't forget to vote and comment! (please :3)
I stayed up late for this lmao :( |