The Unforgettables

Chapter six

"LYDIA!" A flock of birds scattered from the trees above her causing snow to topple down from the branch they'd been sitting on. She brushed winter from her book before closing it and looking down the path from which his voice had come. "LYDIA!" He came into view, full on sprinting towards her and when Stiles attempted to stop, he only slipped and fell sending him into a breathy laughter.

"What's the matter with you?" The girl laughs.
"I've been invited to the ball!" He grins so widely that it hurt even Lydia's cheeks just looking at him. But then she begins to process what he had said. She was the princess and he had been invited to–
"The ball?" Her voice cracks and she clears it nervously.

His smile stretches farther as if that was even possible. "Yes, The ball! W-with the music at the palace and the beautiful girls in extravagant gowns and–" he pauses, voice lowering to an enchanting tone. "and the princess."
Ode to joy, Lydia thought. She stood from her place, book tucked tightly under her arm as she began to walk the opposite direction from which he had come. He followed without shame.

"How have you been invited?" She asks.
"This year, they've been so kind to offer a smidge of royalty to those who have never seen it. Invited all of the workers family I suppose. Father told me hisself." Stiles heart nearly leapt out of his chest while Lydia's sank to the pit of her stomach. It's not that she wasn't proud of him or happy for him but if it meant knowing who she was...well, not so much anymore.

"That is...brilliant. Very sweet." She tries.
"And they've said to make it a masquerade!"
"A masquerade, how charming." Her voice was stale, unimpressed. He seemed to notice, grabbing her tenderly by the hands. She looked down to the snow in shame. She could've at least tried to sound happy.
"Well I should hope to see you there." He speaks quietly, as though it was a secret, his cheeks more of a blush rather than from the cold.

He brushed a curl from her face, rough hands skimming the softness of her skin in an almost teasing manner.
"Look for me?" He was asking her to make a promise. She felt dreaded.
"I'm not sure I'll be attending...."
Stiles looks at her, baffled.
"Not attending?" The ball was a place of dreams and surely this girl was invited. She was financially able enough to receive an invitation.

Lydia nods, apologizes, then quickly tells him she must go leaving him in the shade of winter with confused thoughts.
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She felt like there wasn't any oxygen, storming into the kitchen in a frenzy trying to decide whether she felt angry, worried, or upset.
"You have heard?" Allison watches the girl pace the length of the table where she was kneading dough. Lydia nods. "Telling the boy seems slightly appropriate..." This cause a glare to be sent her way. No way in hell was Lydia about to ruin what her and Stiles had developed.

She was stressed, desperate to make sure things could remain normal between the two. And maybe she shouldn't have lied in the first place then but it was too late. Plus the boy would've died if he found out she was a royal. Allison then sighed, told her to relax, it was a masquerade. Masks could hide her identity and that was that. But she was still terrified.
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Authors note:

I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry.
Comment, read, sorry it's been a while.
-Sorry