Writing Fiction 1

Gingersnaps and Tea Cups

Alora wiped the crumbs from her face.

Sinking under the table, knots formed in her stomach.

It was the best place to hide.

She could still hear the music, but the people would stop coming up to her. No one could see her; but if her father got truly angry, she could find him before he punished her. She didn't wear the blue dress because the open back would have displayed the scars from the last time she had displeased him; but her father assured her that it was for the best.

After all, her father was a victorious commander in the Court of Dreams who needed a disciplined daughter. After all, this was a great honor to have his daughter marry the future Lord of the Court of Dreams. After all, Alora was too young for her protests to be taken seriously.

But she wasn't the consort yet and wouldn't be for quite a long time.

Her stuffy gown tangled around her legs. She tried to right the pink fabric but the layers of tulle and cotton and silk made it nearly impossible. The feat of fitting her whole dress under the table had been impressive, but then untangling herself proved almost impossible. Her blonde hair got caught on the splinters that had loosened from the table after years of use. She shook her head to try to free her hair, but it only ripped out a few strands. Alora covered mouth to keep from crying out in pain and alerting others of where she had escaped to.

The endless string of questions that she didn't know how to answer kept playing on repeat in her mind.

No, she didn't know if she was excited to get married. She didn't really know what marriage was. She didn't know if she liked Eryx. She only knew that she thought he was handsome and far more put together than she could ever be.

"Hey," someone whispered.

Alora whirled around and hit her head on a piece of wood. Hot tears stung her eyes as she whimpered.

She didn't want to cry. Especially not in front of Eryx. Eryx who was two years older than her. Eryx who was infinitely smarter than her. Eryx who had stood beside her only hours ago and answered every question asked of him without stuttering. Eryx who she was supposed to marry. Sure, it wouldn't be for years, but Alora wasn't so sure she would change much in a few years.

Eryx clamped his warm hand over Alora's mouth. His brown eyes darted around. Perhaps he suspected someone would flip up the velvet cloth that shielded them from the guests. Perhaps they would force them out of their hiding spot.

But why was Eryx hiding?

If anything, Alora thought that Eryx liked all of the attention and the questions and the idea of marriage.

Eryx released her. He went rigid. "Oh, I'm sorry. I smudged your rouge." He reached back over to rub the color off of her chin.

Alora let out a tiny giggle that surely would have earned her a disapproving glare from her father. She went rigid.

Eryx tilted his head, the gesture making him look less like the boy who had bested her at everything and more like a playmate that kept her secrets and shared his toys. "What's so funny?"

Alora lowered her voice. "Do you promise not to tell my father?"

Eryx nodded, his dark eyes alight with intrigue.

Alora leaned in and caught a whiff of his citrus scent. "I am not wearing any rouge."

Eryx's brows threaded together. "Then what did I rub off?"

"I ate some tarts a while ago. Father said I'm not allowed to have any but I don't think he saw me."

It was Eryx's turn to laugh. It wasn't mocking or prim or proper or regal, it was merely a melody. One that Alora thought would be wonderful to bottle up so she could hear it again as she drifted off to sleep that night.