I watched eagerly as the pattering of horses' hooves against the cobblestone road - which was attached to a suspicious looking black carriage whose wooden wheels bumped on each of the individual hard, round stones - as it came to a halt in front of me. I clutched the handle of my umbrella tighter, and taking a final glance down at my dress, I made sure it was worthy of any climbing or running I was going to do tonight. It was.
The misty wind blew inside my umbrella zone, letting my hair seep in the damned rainwater that had poured just an hour ago. Curious, I tiptoed, trying to peek in the carriage windows to see what the man - or woman - I would be assisting looked like. Unfortunately, the curtains were drawn, so I could not make out any shape or being behind the carriage doors.
I waited for a moment or so, rocking on my heels, and breathing in the fresh rainy breeze. Yet no one opened the door.
Was this the right one? I scanned left and right for any other carriage, and this seemed to be the only one here. That looked suspicious, at least.
After a little more while of lingering and peeking inside the carriage, I concluded that they must have not seen me, so I strided forward onto the wet cobblestone road and knocked quietly on the door. A thought suddenly struck my mind. If they were going to open the door, it would swing out towards me. I stepped back a bit to make some space between me, my umbrella and the carriage.
A minute had passed. Two minutes. That dratted person inside would still not open it. Well, at least I could hear some activity inside with me here up close. And it seems that that activity, was nothing. There was nothing. I bent forward to knock once more, hinting to whoever inside that I was already here.
Still, after a moment of inactivity and silence - excluding the rain - no one opened the door. My ears were starting to burn from this joke. I snatched out a crumpled letter from one of my skirt pockets and read it (well, tried to). Using the streetlights to make out the words of the anonymous letter, it read:
"Dearest Miss Emma,
I need your help. I am terribly sorry but I will not introduce myself, for this is a matter that may cause unsolicited discussions if I make myself known.
I heard from a dear friend that you are capable of undergoing activities that a man would do, such as climbing and adventuring. I am what one would consider, a collector, of some sort. I retrieve many of the world's most important artifacts, in fact, those which remain until now unknown to the public. However, it is not your business to know what I do with those objects.
Now, I would gladly accept your aid in obtaining several items which I shall later instruct you to acquire for me when we have met. There is no need to worry about our meeting venue; I have everything sorted out.
Please stand-by at the Graelic Winery at the appointed time, which is to be midnight. Your arrival must not be delayed, and you are to wear clothing that would be of utmost comfort as you are to be moving a lot.
Until then, Miss Emma, do I expect your presence.
~ your future employer"
The beaten-up yet repainted carriage door swung open just an inch before my face. I quickly stashed the scrunched letter into my cape pocket as a dark gloved hand motioned for me to come in. What I saw inside astonished me.
Unlike the unkempt appearance of its shell, the interior of this unlikely coach had a tremendous inprovement. A sizable chandelier hung from its roof, and the door panels and window ledge were coated in gold leaf decorations. The air inside smelled like thousands of flowers and cinnamons, with a slight hint of tabacco. The plush seats were of a velvety material and as I hopped inside to take a seat, the seats allowed my behind to sink into it.
It was the perfect carriage for a princess. But all the while of admiring the luxurious carriage, I hadn't noticed my chaperone. I tried to make out his face, but to no avail. All the light reflected from the shiny bling inside doesn't seem to make the place brighter. Instead, it seemed to fog my mind. All I could make out of my chaperone were his full-black outfit that seemed largely out of place inside this tiny palace, and his slim physique.
"Close the door behind you."
His voice was deep and raspy, tired sounding but still authoritative. I followed his command and the carriage shot forward with a jolt. And to my surprise and awe, the glittering chandelier seemed to dim with a flourish of his hand, and at last everything went dark as the coach journeyed through the thunderous downpour.
----
// authors note //
So here I'm back with another short story! Hope you enjoyed it. Actually, I've written this a long time ago, so it's not that relevant to me practicing my writing skills (although I edited some parts). But I thought I'd like to share it with my readers.
If you liked this one, do you want me to continue writing it into a full-length story?
- shay
