Scorn and Devotion

Chapter 32

warnings - Adolescents talking about a sexual act, mentions of abusive parents, Fae ritual

Flashback

Timothée wrestled with the buttons on his doublet. As handsome as he was, it looked ridiculous on him, too frilly and lacy. I giggled and burst from my hiding place in his closet, and pulled his hands away from the fabric. His look of frustration turned to one of shock.

"Where did you come from? How long have you been in there?" He demanded.

"Doesn't matter," I giggled and began trying to pull him to the window.

"Did you see me change?" He was blushing furiously.

"No, I didn't, now come on."

"What?"

"I want to show you something."

"Y/N, you know I have to leave in several minutes," He said reluctantly.

"Just come on," I urged, and finally we were at his bedroom window.

A figure with dark hair, wearing a fancy doublet, suspiciously similar to Timothée's, was climbing into a gold gilded carriage. Once the figure had entered the carriage, footmen came from the palace and loaded suitcases on the back of the carriage.

"That is my carriage," Timothée said, clearly baffled.

"Yes," I agreed.

"But that isn't me in it."

"A bright one you are," I laughed and ruffled his hair.

"I'm not catching on," Timothée confessed.

"You aren't going on your trip," I beamed.

"I think, I legally have to," Timothée sighed and fussed with his buttons again.

"Well, it looks like you're leaving now."

Timothée gawked out the window, at the carriage that was leaving without him.

"What have you done?" He asked.

"Well you kept whining on about how much you didn't want to go see Princess

Alexandra, so I fixed the problem. I got someone to dress like you and go in your place, and you and I are going to sneak away and camp in the Fae Forest."

Timothée sat on his bed, mouth hanging open. I knew he would be apprehensive at first, but I would get him to come around, I always did. He would end up thanking me in a couple of hours.

"You've really done it this time," he said, shaking his head. "This time it isn't funny."

"Come on, you didn't even want to go," I rolled my eyes.

"Be that as it may, my father is going to kill me. I'm supposed to be cozying up to Alexandra so it doesn't feel so damn weird when we get married in a couple of years."

Timothée was clearly agitated, just as he always was when Alexandra was brought up. He hated having to be a part of an arranged marriage. Every time he had to see her he got more, and more, uncomfortable. I hated seeing him this way. I hated him being sad ever, but this was a new kind of sadness. He wasn't himself for weeks after he came back from those visits.

"Who's in the carriage," He asked after a moment of silence.

"Francis," I replied.

"Francis?" Timothée said in near shock. "He hates me."

"Yeah well, he looks the most like you out of all the people we know. I had to promise him a kiss and a feel up my blouse to do it."

"You what!" Timothée whirled around, eyes nearly popping out of his head.