A man of perhaps twenty two or twenty three, sits on a stocky tree branch, one that bows slightly beneath his weight. He looks down on me, flashing a lopsided grin as I stare. I'm sure he speaks again, but I'm hardly listening, too dumbfounded by the fact he's hanging from a tree like some sort of primate. Words fail me so instead, I gape at him.
I know instantly that he is unwelcomed here. He is no guest, based on his less than acceptable attire. A button down shirt – one worn casual by ignorance to half of the buttons, exposing his chest and the fine hair that scatters it – and his pants are more combat wear, with multiple pockets trailing either side and the baggy fit being wrinkled and torn along the legs. His face is one of a stranger too, so certainly not staff. If he was staff, I'd have him sacked immediately. What sort of neanderthal spends his time settled on a tree branch?
He's still grinning, exposing his teeth, his head tilted as he observes me with interest, letting his dark, unruly hair fall astray over his forehead. It tickles his eyebrows but is still cropped short enough to allow his warm honey eyes to be seen, stealing away all of my attention. I care little for his stubbled jaw or his prominent cheekbones or his crooked, broken nose, because his eyes capture me instantaneously, what with their unnerving beauty.
"Seen enough princess?" He muses with a humoured tone. I shake my head, recollecting myself from my reverie and then I frown at him.
"How did you get in here?" I snap, not daring to let my eyes fall from him in case he tries to escape. Clearly, he's unaware that this is trespassing, or is arrogant enough to believe he can get away with it.
"Why," he grins, shuffling his body so that his back is rested against the tree trunk, his legs astride on either side of the solid branch he sits on. "You looking for a way out?"
I scowl at him then, edging forward so I can see him through the shadows, despite my mind screaming in resistance. I have no idea what this man might be capable of. He could be a reprobate, a rogue. Someone whose level is so low, it's irredeemable. However, perhaps it wouldn't be entirely false to say that I'm intrigued by him. I've never mixed with anyone, staff excluded, below my own level. I've never been this close to a normal civilian. He looks far different from anyone I've ever seen before.
I hoist up the skirt of my dress in both hands, careful not to trample on the trailing hem as I climb further up the incline, despite it being unventured terrain. He watches me with intensity, that boyish grin never once leaving his face.
"You know, I ought to call on security right now and have you arrested." I point out, my dress still bunched in my hands, my elbows stuck out for balance as I carefully watch my footing.
"Seems you're out here on your own princess. Go fetch them if you want, but I'll be long gone by then." It sounds like he's gloating. The idea of being arrested doesn't scare him. How outlandish.
"Well I don't much have another option. You're committing a crime." I try to tell him, waiting for his eyes to flicker in realisation. When nothing changes, I quickly realise he's well aware that what he's doing is against the law.
"You'd have me arrested for something as innocent as hanging in a peach tree?" He asks me, as if I'm incredulous. I can still hear the amusement in his tone though. He finds this whole ordeal comical.
I scoff and drop my dress as I reach the trunk of the tree, folding my arms. "It's not the hanging that's illegal. It's the trespassing." His smile widens as I mimic him. "You have no right being here." I tell him pointedly before he has room to reply.
"Alright," he surrenders, tilting his body off to the side as if to get a better view of me. "I'll go. Just wanted to see you were alright princess. Looked ready to throw yourself over the railing for a minute there." I can't tell if his concern is sincere, but I relish in the chance that it might me. If tonight has proven anything, it's that my feelings aren't regularly a matter of interest. The thought that this stranger cares is quite refreshing.
I almost thank him for his concern, but then I catch my tongue. "I'm not a princess." I say lamely, as if that is what's important right now. He shoots me a cynical look and his eyes graze my figure.
"No kidding? Posh frock for a 'not princess'." He states. I almost flush as he continues to observe me. His gaze is so intense, unyielding, that it brings a warmth upon my body.
"There is a celebration." I inform him for reasons unknown, flicking my hand towards the Manor from which I just escaped. It's as though the crime he is committing has somehow slipped my mind, pushed away by his brazen attitude and blasé manner. My curiosity for him has overpowered every ounce of reason. His appearance has enthralled me, as has the common tongue in which he speaks.
He hums and lets his eyes find the Manor. "We heard. That's why I'm here," he confesses. "Figured I've got better use for the food you'll waste than what the rats do." His admittance concerns me. Never before have I considered that some people might be so desperate as to have to steal from the waste of others.
"I'm afraid you might be at a loss. There isn't much food to be wasted." He sighs and lets his eyes fall on me again. He doesn't seem all that dejected though; still smiling like he's slept with a coat hanger in his mouth.
"That's too bad. Least it's not a trip wasted; I got to talk to a pretty girl." My chest constricts but I shake off his flirtation and harden my gaze.
"That's awful bold of you. It's clear to see your confidence isn't lacking." I claim, clenching my jaw when he flashes his white teeth at me. "My patience has worn thin. My night has already been something of a disaster without it being made worse by my fraternizing with a criminal."
"Disaster, huh?" He swings himself to a lower branch so that now, his knees are in line with my head. With him being much closer, his features are that much more distinguishable. My breath catches when I realise, he's quite handsome. Quite literally, breathtakingly so. Attractive, but in an undone way, not like the prim and proper people back inside the ballroom. "Sounds rough. What happened?"
I sigh, clasping my hands in front of me and offering him a flat expression, trying not to let his good looks muddle my thoughts. "Listen, Mister –"
"Kian," he introduces.
"Kian." I test the name on my tongue, oddly surprised with the way it sits quite pleasantly. "As flattering as your interest in my evening is, it's also wildly inappropriate. We are no better than strangers and lets not forget, as of current, you are a criminal."
"Yeah, but the rush makes it worth it." His argument lacks conviction, although I can't help but notice how he, a man of an undoubtably lower level and a criminal no less, looks far happier than I have ever been. "I mean, I bet these parties are boring. Dancing round with a load of bourgeoise pricks."
I gasp at his choice of term. "That's unequivocally false. Those people in there, I'll think you'll find, are practically aristocrats. And what a vulgar choice of term for them. I'll have you know, I'm quite much one of those people too and you seem to have no problem engaging with me." He grins at me lazily, tilting his head.
"Yeah, but you're pretty. I engage well with pretty girls – if you catch my drift." I'm unable to withhold the flush that rises then, plaguing my face with obvious embarrassment.
"That's quite enough. What's your surname?" I ask him sharply.
He smirks and then winks at me. "Why, do you want it princess?" If anything, my blush deepens, no doubt leaving me a violent scarlet, unmistakeable even in this low lighting. I can't believe he's so audacious as to suggest something that preposterous.
"You, this – I mean, honestly," I fumble, clambering for a coherent sentence as his coquetry has left me in tatters. Never once have I reacted in such a childish manner to a mans advances. That said, they've never been quite as insatiable.
"When you catch your breath princess, come find me." He grins, hoisting himself higher into the tree, back into the shadows.
"Where on Earth do you think you're going?" I snap at him, stopping my foot like an insolent child.
"To have fun! You should try it sometime." Then he jumps to another tree, the only sign of him the trembling of the leaves and before I know it, he's gone completely.
—•—
I don't have it in myself to revisit the party. There seems no need, as I already know that my engagement has been announced. It seems, much like the arrangement of it, my presence isn't needed for that either. Instead, I have myself head straight to my bedroom, using the intercom to call on both Margot and Zaveri. Not only do I need their help in readying myself for bed, I need their friendship too.
I've stepped out of my dress and while Zaveri releases me from the confines of the corset, Margot removes the pins from my hair that are holding my curls in place. One by one, they cascade over my shoulder, all the while my breaths become less shallow as the corset is loosened.
They've said nothing, waiting for me to begin I assume, but I don't know what words to say. In fact, even so much as thinking about what's due to come might leave me in a mess of tears. I don't want to marry, not yet. Not to him.
Then that man – Kian, he had called himself – in only a few minutes had captured my undivided attention. A trespasser with an attitude so arrogant that he could flirt so brashly, without even knowing my name. Yet, it was almost flattering, the way he showed interest. Not just in my looks, but in my state of mind. I mean, he'd only outed himself to ensure I wasn't suicidal. That's more concern than my own family have shown me as of late.
But who's to say it wasn't all a lie? It could well have been – I suppose there's no telling as to if he was just trying to talk himself out of trouble – but for a moment, I truly forgot about the tragedy of my real life. What was it he had said, I should try having fun some time? How ignorant of him to assume that I don't have fun already. Although, there is nothing about my current situation that I would deem to be fun.
"I don't want to marry him." I say finally. The girls both say nothing, purely because there is nothing they can say. As of now, my wants are redundant. It makes no change to the outcome, only earns me a smack around the mouth from my father.
"Might I suggest something?" Zaveri says coyly. I nod once as she unwraps the corset from my frame, leaving me only in my undergarments. "Perhaps getting to know Eason would make this easier. I know that it still would mean that it's not your choice, but he might be a genuinely pleasant man."
I hum in agreement. It's certainly the lesser of two evils. I could go into this marriage blind and struggle for the rest of my life, or at least prepare myself for what to expect. The arrangement would still hardly be enjoyable, but as Zaveri said, it'd be far easier.
"I suppose so." I finally concede. With my hair undone, Margot runs a soft bristled brush through it, forcing my curls into waves. Zaveri gathers my nightwear that I dress in thereafter, sending my hair behind my shoulders as I wash my face with the prepared wipes. All soaked in all sorts of cosmetics, blended in a way to accentuate my youth, prevent me from blemishing, and cleanse my pores. Wipes designed to keep me to what my parents conceive as beautiful.
"Is there anything else we can help you with?" Zaveri asks as I climb into bed, pulling the duvet to my chest with a miserable sigh. I shake my head but then stop abruptly.
"Perhaps you could have my breakfast sent up early tomorrow morning. I'm planning to take the day out." The pair of them share a look which they then transfer to me. One purely written by confusion, considering there hasn't been a single time I've left these walls without my parents, in all my nineteen years. "For fun." I tell them with a soft smile, ignoring the way their expressions don't waver as I settle into bed with a self-righteous grin.
—•—
Let's have fun.