Painted Roses

My Lady. Your Bride.

                  

The door to her father's office opened and Rosalia looked around. Mr. Cliffwood stepped out, bowing before turning around and gently closing the door behind him.

He glanced up as he pulled on his gloves and they looked at each other for a while, silent, almost like a challenge to see who would speak first.

Mr. Cliffwood smiled at her.

"My Lady," he said, taking his top hat and bowing low, "I believe a celebratory party is in order, in honour of the future Mrs. Cliffwood."

Rosalia turned away, folding her arms as she looked out of the window.

"Now my dear, don't be like that," Mr. Cliffwood said gently, walking towards her so they stood side-by-side. "I'm not your enemy."

"No? Have you told your sister that?"

"What my sister does in her spare time does not concern me. I can assure you she shall not touch you again."

Rosalia's hands tightened on her arms until Mr. Cliffwood caught one and pulled it towards him, kissing the back of it.

"I shall leave you be for now, until next time."

He squeezed her hand before letting go and walking passed towards the front doors.

"Is your sister like you?"

Mr. Cliffwood stopped at the door, leaving it open ajar and looked back. "Sorry?"

"Is your sister like you?"

"In what way?"

"... Enchanter, or wizard, or whatever you are."

"Enchanter. And yes, she is, you'd call her an enchantress."

Rosalia looked at him. "Did she put the spell on Braydon?"

Mr. Cliffwood pursed his lips, then gently closed the door again. "Yes, she did."

"She was his fiancée?"

"She was."

"I want to know more about them – and Braydon is too secretive. Would you tell me?"

Mr. Cliffwood smiled slightly. "Yes, that sounds like Braydon. Alright, I'll tell you, what do you want to know?"

Rosalia looked around, then gestured for him to follow her and she walked to one of the parlours at the front of the house. She called for tea and took a seat on one of the armchairs.

"You won't share the sofa with me?" Mr. Cliffwood asked with a smile.

"No, I shan't," she replied and he chuckled, sitting down. "I want to know about you, and your sister and Braydon."

"Such a lack of formalities between you two."

"He is a man who spends most of his time as a frog. Formalities ended when he hopping into my room while I was dressed in a nightdress."

"How scandalous, should I be jealous?"

"I feel it would be a waste of your time."

"Very well. Well as I said, I was not involved with the circumstances that led up to Prince Bray—ur, Braydon's current state. I don't know what pushed my sister over the edge, I don't know what made her choose to cast a curse, she should never have done so. Like everything, we have rules. To interfere with a monarch is too careless and reckless but nevertheless she chose to break the rules and thus here we are."

A maid knocked on the door and brought in tea and cakes. She reached to pour the tea and Mr. Cliffwood stopped her.

"I'll do that, you may leave," he said.