Anne of Survivor

Chapitre Huit: Snowflakes on Noses & Warm Winter Wassail

Anne sat in the galley trying to read over the letters she had received from potential lodgings, but to her great frustration, her mind would wander back to the words which continued to echo in her ears. '...you are in love with Captain Doran,' Devin's voice went round and round in her mind. She had tried to ignore it. She had tried to wish those words were never spoken. She had even tried to pray them away, and yet, nothing worked. No matter how ridiculous she felt the statement was, it lingered in her heart and festered in her mind.

"Stop it Anne," she spoke aloud to herself before trying yet again to focus on the task at hand.

Five inns had answered the inquiries she had set forth before their ship had left Île-de-L'est; however, three of them were the ones the captain, she sighed, had suggested a few weeks ago. The other two, though very nice, were a bit out of her price range. Of course, she could possibly stay at the Whispering Willows, but nearly all her money would be spent on lodgings alone. They did serve a sizable breakfast every morning, so if she was desperate, she could possibly get by.

The true question was; whether it was more important to have privacy or money, if it were money, she could suck it up and stay at one of the inns Doran, another sigh, had suggested. Doran, hmm, she wondered if he would be staying in an inn for the holidays. She smiled as a light dream of them dancing together, Christmas day, filled her mind and blinded her eyes, so much so, she hadn't heard or seen Bêrk enter the room. But when he pulled up a chair, the spell was broken, and her mind was made up. Whether through fear or a true desire to be herself for a while, Anne would never know, but she finally decided privacy was what she needed and desired most.

"Wow, Andrew, where were you," Bêrk spoke as he sat down. "Don't think I've ever seen you smile like that before.

Anne cleared her throat before lying. "I was just thinking about Christmas and how much I'm looking forward to carolers and a nice Christmas ham."

"Ah, that would bring a smile to your face. Hell, it brings one to mine," the other man chuckled. "Well, until then, it's back to salt beef and crackers. Let's start on chow."

Relieved that Bêrk had believed her fib, Anne quickly gathered her letters and started to work.

Orianna had finally done it. She had just approved the perfect invitations to the upcoming Christmas celebration. The tea length ecru, beautifully woven heavy weight linen paper, was embossed on the bottom with a lightly colored pearlized sprig of holly. The calligraphy to convey Orianna's message would be in gold ink.

 Family, Friends and Subjects,

Her Royal Highness, Princess Orianna-Loni,

Cordially invites you and your families

to a

Royal Christmas Ball

At Caardea Palace

On the 24th of December

In this the Fourth Year of Peace

Guests Will Please Arrive Promptly

At 7:30 that Evening