A Kind Of Bravery: A Mulan Retelling [1st Draft]

20. The Ball

Chapter Twenty:

The Ball

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The sea breeze ruffled Harriet's messy, yet growing hair. She had been home in Ecrivenia for nearly three weeks, and already her hair had grown a fair amount. While Harriet couldn't care less, Clara was more than pleased. Apparently this meant she could have her hair in a bun for the ball.

Harriet let out a sigh through her nose, snapping her book closed to instead stare out at the, no doubt, freezing ocean. It was weird to think her sister-in-law of sorts actually lived in its frigid waters, albeit many miles away, but Harriet was hardly one to judge. If Adelaide, Frederick's sister, wanted to have a tail for the rest of her life, Harriet wasn't going to judge her. Even if it was weird to think about.

Bringing her hand up to her face she took hold of the bridge of her nose between two fingers. The ball was supposed to be later that day, and she had allowed for Clara to do everything she hadn't been able to at the last ball.

She had sat through a fitting without complaint, she had allowed Clara to play around with her hair for over two hours, she had even let her sister experiment with what shoes would look the best with the gown. Her feet had ached for days afterwards but she hadn't said a word. She had said she wouldn't complain; so she didn't.

Unlike the last ball, Harriet was out of the castle with her sister's permission. Clara, being the older sister that she was, had picked up on Harriet's need for a little solitude and had sent her away earlier that morning.

It was admittedly freezing out, as it was very nearly winter, but Harriet didn't mind. The salty air coming from the ocean helped her not feel so stifled.

It had been three weeks and she hadn't heard anything from Leopold. To be fair, he was a king who needed to help repair his country after a terrible war, but Harriet wasn't sure what to think. After that night on the rampart, she had thought that he was fond of her; in fact she had been almost certain that he was, but with how he didn't once acknowledge it when she was at the castle of Marenta and she hadn't heard from him, she was beginning to believe she had imagined the whole thing.

Of course the weird stomach spasm she got every time she thought of him told her that she probably hadn't, but that wasn't relevant. There was no use in feeling like this if he didn't feel the same way, but Harriet couldn't seem to turn it off.

On top of that, she was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that she was a knight, but even so, she got pangs of guilt every time she thought of Oliver. Sure he had tried to kill both her and Leopold, but she couldn't just erase the memories of being happy with him from her mind. She had been going through them constantly trying to see what she had missed, but all she could think of was Clark's dislike of him, and that was a whole other matter.

Even thinking about Clark made her heart hurt. She hadn't seen the little mouse since the night of the parade. She assumed that he was with Xenon, but she'd neither skin nor scale of the dragon. It was like he had disappeared from her life just as Oliver had.

There were signs he had been there, but know they were only around in her memories. Harriet rubbed at her eyes. Maybe she should just avoid anything of the male sex for the rest of her life. She certainly wasn't being caused any heartache from any women. At least not if you didn't count the witch who had cast a curse on her.

She was just closing her eyes when she heard the sound of footsteps approaching. Harriet waited a moment before turning around, meeting the eyes of Mark.

Things had been a little strange between her and Mark ever since she had gotten back. They got along fine, but it was like Mark didn't know how to act around her, but Harriet had a feeling she knew why. She was different. She hadn't pranked or argued recently with anyone. She didn't joke around as much. She still smiled, but more often than not it was strained.