lavenders blue

c h a p t e r : t w o

song: Clair Du Lune - Claude Debussy

tw: alcoholism, mention of death, minor panic attack, mention of beheading

Noon had passed and George knew the ball would be starting any moment. As he hummed a soft piano tune he looked outside, Lord Verdant's carriage was in the same place, the tan horses were being tended to by a gardner, one had a polished bridle with a cursive engraving that George couldn't make out, the first letter was 'P' but the rest were so intricate he would have to get closer to read it. George smiled down at the gardener and the small man beamed back, his light fluffy hair concealing his eyes, he gave a small bow before going back to the horses. The prince stepped away from his window, gliding his hand along the mahogany piano before picking up his crown again. George had changed from his formal sapphire cloak into a pale opal coloured velvet one. His mother had commissioned this one herself, the white satin lining was something his father would never approve of therefore he loved it. The cool fabric calmed his skin and George knew no matter where he would go, his mother's love would be sewn so delicately into the cloak that she would never truly leave him. 

Just as another tear slipped down his cheek there was a knock at the door, Niki opened it and smiled at him, 
"Everyone is ready for you in the ballroom my lord," She bowed, "your father sent for you."
George nodded, taking a deep breath and with that the pair made their way down the hall towards the large double doors that opened to the gantry. 
"And everyone's in there already?" He mumbled as a guard approached them, "won't you come with me?" He turned to Niki, squeezing her hand slightly.
"You know I'm not allowed," she smiled.
"We could get you a dress you would fit righ-"
"Your highness," the guard interrupted, ignoring Niki completely, "I will announce your arrival." He bowed and made his way through the doors. Niki bowed again,
"Have fun," she giggled and with that she was gone. George was alone again, riddled with anxiety and fear as he heard the guard clear his throat and the trumpets blare. This party was for him.
"Have courage..." he whispered, "be kind."

"Ladies and gentlemen! Prince George of Eroda!" The doors swung open and George was met with gasps and eager eyes. The gold and copper ballroom highlighted all the different coloured gowns as George slowly stepped onto the gantry. He followed his father's orders and bowed deeply to the people below him, as the law stated, they all bowed and curtsied back. Whilst he was standing George looked around fervently for Lord Verdant, but could not spot him in the large crowd. 
"Why don't you go down there and snatch up a wife my boy," the king's breath already stunk of dried rum and whiskey, surprisingly it may be safer to be amongst a crowd like that. George nodded,
"Of course father," and he made his way down the marble steps. All eyes were still on him as the cloak gilded behind, his eyes were still wondering, scanning across all the faces for him. Why him he still didn't know but one thing was for sure, he needed to see him. 

"Your highness, my daughter Rebecca," Lord William, the first pair in the throne room threw themselves at George. Rebecca curtsied and flaunted her golden necklace, that was clearly strategically placed, "may she have your first dance your highness?"
"I do apologise, I actually have someone else in mind." Wow. George was shocked at his own rudeness and Rebecca looked him up and down in complete disgust and she made her way off with her father. Thank god, George thought as he let out a breath of relief.
He was about to take another step forward when green velvet caught his eye. It was Drisilla's ball gown, it shone brighter than the others and George was eager to make his way over, but with every step he took another pair would approach him.
"Your highness my daughter-"
"My lord may I have this dance,"
"My prince may I introduce-"

Georges heart was racing as he gripped the inside of the cloak, the satin squashing in his grip as his legs felt weak. Before he could even stop himself he turned and broke for the large doors to the garden. He held onto his coat as he rushed down the steps, tears forming in his eyes as cries and confused voices faded from behind him. George swore he could hear someone following him and assumed it was a guard so he made a right turn into his mother's garden. The hedges blocked the light from the party and a white swing stood empty as it had for years. As he made his way inside the sounds from the distant party died down and became meer background noise to George. The hedges allowed thin whistles of wind to slither through the trimmed shrubs and onto the prince's pale, now red and blotchy skin.
"I have no courage..." he cried as he flopped on a bench in the now silent garden, "I tried to please you but I cannot." Tears fell faster than before as George felt the grief all at once, "I'm so sorry mother," he looked up at the sky to which the stars glinted back to him, almost in forgiveness. He cried harder, tears soaking his sleeves as his shoulders shook against the bench.
George sat, his shoulder blades pressed into the marbled bench as he shut his eyes, begging the tears to stop, holding himself as he wrapped the cloak around him. "Lavender's b-blue, dilly dilly..." he cried, softly singing to himself to calm him down, he choked out the words, then stopped when he heard someone approach.