The Ambassador's Daughter

Chapter 17

Bucky found Steve in the library. He dropped into a chair across the table from Steve. "We need to talk." Steve looked up from the book he'd been reading.

"About?" Steve prodded.

"What do you think? What do we ever seem to talk about these days?"

Concern flooded Steve's face, "Is Louise ok?" He started to rise. Bucky raised his hands to stop Steve from getting up.

"She's fine! She's more than fine." Bucky sighed and shook his head. "Have you ever... I mean, I think...I mean, she's...Oh, never mind," he stood and walked out of the library and started back towards his room. He paused and then changed direction and returned to the gardens. Steve stared after him.

"That was weird," he muttered. He turned back to his book and then his head snapped up again as a realisation hit him suddenly. Steve lurched to his feet and raced after his friend. "Buck, hey! Bucky!" He called. Steve searched the gardens and then Bucky's room and couldn't find him. "Oh, well, I guess he'll actually spit it out when he's ready." Steve couldn't help but smile as he returned to his book.

*

Louise stood on the pedestal wearing the dress she'd picked, as the tailor pinned and measured the gown. Louise's mother rambled on about plans for the ball, but Louise was really struggling to concentrate. Every time her mother mentioned dancing or Wakanda's dance etiquette, Louise's mind wandered back to the short dance she'd shared with Bucky in the garden earlier that day.

"Louise!"

Louise looked at her mother. "Yes, Mamma?"

"What is so funny?" Elise asked, sharply. "You've been standing there with that silly grin on your face the whole time I've been talking. Is the importance of this ball somehow funny to you?"

"No, Mamma. I'm sorry, Mamma." Louise apologised. "I was just thinking about something that happened at the palace today."

Elise raised an eyebrow, "You must focus on the here and now, my child. What I am telling you is very important if you wish to avoid making a fool of yourself and our family. Now, what is the customary termination of a dance?"

"Really? They have etiquette for the end of a dance?" Louise asked incredulously.

"Yes." Elise replied, "Now, answer the question."

Louise sighed and closed her eyes thinking, "Umm, it is customary for the man to thank his partner for the dance. A new partner he does not know well is thanked with a kiss on the hand; a partner he is familiar with is thanked with a kiss on the cheek?"

"Very good. Now, Louise, who should be thanking you for a dance with a kiss on the cheek?"

"My father, possibly King T'Challa if we dance together." Louise answered readily. As far as her parents knew, no one else in Wakanda knew her well enough for the more personal thank you. "Unless there's a different protocol for dancing with the king?" Louise asked, suddenly unsure.

"Good, catch." Elise responded, pleased. "There is a different protocol for that. The royal family are the most powerful people in the country and, therefore, have a different set of customs that apply to them. The king does not thank his partner for dancing with him, she thanks him for the honour of dancing with him."

"Oh," Louise replied, Elise stared at her daughter. "Oh! Um, when dancing with the king, one must respect the royal person so...um...a deep, formal curtsey will suffice?"

"Good." Elise encouraged.

"I'm done," the tailor cut in. Louise carefully climbed down and stepped behind the changing screen and carefully changed out of the pin-filled gown. She stepped back into the main room and handed the gown back to the tailor, who took it and scurried out of the room. Elise pointed to one of the vanities, indicating that Louise should sit down.

Louise sighed and sat in the chair. A stylist, who had been sitting in a corner waiting for her turn stepped forward. "Do we really have to do all this?" Louise complained as the stylist pulled Louise's hair out of its pony tail and began combing through it roughly. Elise narrowed her eyes at her daughter, warning her to behave herself.

Louise scowled, and jerked away from the tugging of the painful tugging of the stylist's brush. "There's a head under that hair!" Louise snapped, swatting at the stylist.

"Behave yourself, child," Elise warned.

"Mamma, it hurts! And there's no need for it to hurt. I haven't done anything since I brushed my hair this morning but put it in a ponytail." Louise complained.

"Louise," Elise's voice carried a heavy warning. Louise bit her tongue and gripped the arm of her chair tightly. Finally the stylist set aside the brush. Louise sighed in relief as the stylist began to run her hands through Louise's hair, lifting it and holding it in place and readjusting it. The stylist muttered about possible styles in Wakandan as she worked. Louise didn't particularly like any of the styles the stylist mentioned.

"What if we did a more classic look?" Louise asked in Wakandan. Elise narrowed her eyes, she understood some Wakandan, but mostly just the very basic phrases. Louise knew it made her parents nervous when she spoke Wakandan, as neither of them understood much of it. They couldn't sensor or control what she said. The stylist looked at Louise's reflection in the mirror.

"You have a style in mind?" She asked, brusquely.

"I was thinking something from the 1940's, with a modern touch." Louise replied. The stylist narrowed her dark eyes and surveyed Louise's reflection with renewed scrutiny.

"You certainly have the features for it. It would be an attractive look on you." She nodded, "Yes, if that is what you want, I will do it." She switched to rough English, "I am done, Madam. I must return to my shop." She nodded respectfully to Elise and Louise and left.

Louise sighed in relief. "Are we done here, Mamma?" Elise nodded and dismissed her daughter with a wave of the hand. Louise left the room quickly and hurried to her room and the privacy it gave her. She massaged her sore scalp and changed into a pair of cotton pajama pants and a light blue, baggy t-shirt. She laid across her bed and tucked her pillow under her chin, staring blankly towards the window. She could still feel Bucky's arms around her, how cold but gentle his metal hand had been. How gentle and strong his real arm had felt as it pulled her body close to his. Just thinking about it made her heart rate pick up.

Shesighed and buried her face in her pillow.With my luck, she thought, the dancedidn't affect him at all. With another sigh, Louise rolled over onto herback and stared up at the darkening ceiling. She closed her eyes and eventuallydrifted off to a sleep full of very pleasant dreams.