Between Love and Time | Chaelisa

Chapter 2

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Sitting at the edge of a fountain, Rosé carefully studied the people who walked around the town square. It was entertaining to see how certain elitists avoided physical contact with the "common" people as if they had the plague. The ladies would shriek in terror as they passed the stands chicken stands. The chickens would merely cluck back at them.

She always felt out of place; unlike her friends, she behaved in such a peculiar. She was always teased about it. She had no revulsion nor classist attitude towards those beneath her "class"; on the contrary, she loved to chat with the regular townsfolk. Rosé knew she was a Cavendish through adoption; she knew that there was always the possibility that humble blood ran through her veins. Perhaps that was the reason why Rosé acted differently.

Suddenly something caught her attention. With a gleaming smile, she strolled towards a painter she had seen in one of the plazas. She made a signal to her coachman to wait for her. Being here was an excellent distraction to the troubling thoughts of performing for an audience that night, including other personal problems that consistently plagued her mind. As much as she wished to run enthusiastically towards the artist, she had to remember to walk like a dignified lady of noble blood. She had been trained at an early age to follow the social class rules. She held her dress and smiled at the man sitting on a small wooden stool. He had been doing portraits of people. From what she had seen so far, he had an impressive talent.

The painter turned to face the kind girl, "Would you like one, miss?"

"I would be delighted." Rosé politely answered and then pointed to a small black object next to his tools, "What is that?"

The man signaled for her to sit down and explained, "This my lady..." He held up the small black stump, "Is charcoal. There are very few who have mastered it, but I assure you that the results are excellent. Please allow me.

Rosé's charm was always noticed by those around her, including the painter. He may have been forty years old, but he was still under the spell of the lady who undoubtedly belonged to the noble class based on the quality of her dress and the way she behaved. He sat there a little more than ten minutes tracing with the charcoal. The townsfolk started to gather around to see how the artist immortalized the beautiful young girl. His drawing was a relatively new technique; most nobility would have their portraits taken by renowned painters in oil.

"All finished," the painter sighed. "Your name, miss?" He asked as he signed at the bottom and dated the drawing.

"Rosé Cavendish. Would you tell me how much I owe you, sir?" She courteously asked as she started rummaging her coin purse.

Meanwhile, the painter looked at her in awe. "Free of charge, consider it a gift. The duke's lovely daughter shouldn't have to pay. It is a pleasure."

"You have no idea how grateful I am. It is lovely; I've never seen a portrait done like this before. It's absolutely perfect. Protect your health so that you may continue doing this for many more years." She said.

Excitedly she bowed, gripping the gift close to her body so she wouldn't lose or drop it. She hated using her family name, but kind deeds like these warmed her heart. She waved goodbye to the townsfolk, and with her typical elegant efforts, she entered her carriage. The people of Devonshire always talked about her; most comments were positive. She was different from the rest of the upper-class. She had a strong empathy for others. She was the reason why her father, the duke, was loved by the people of Devonshire.

On the way back to the mansion, they passed the site where they had stumbled across the peasant. Rosé noticed that there were still some ruined apples scattered around the mud puddles. A smile escaped her lips. She had seen countless colored eyes among the English people, but she had never seen a pair of emerald eyes that glimmered and silently spoke like the peasant's eyes. Was she okay? Was she safe and un-injured? Rosé pondered.