By Kismet

Hale Daugherty: I was never a people’s person. I despised having to be in the same room as someone else. I hated circuses and huge crowds. I preferred to be alone. It was better that way. Iwas better that way. Three was a crowd, two was company.



The store was a few miles away and no fool would try and walk, rain, snow or even sunshine. But Hale had very little to work with. He didn’t have a car on him and frankly, he never thought he’d need one. Being a prince and of royal blood, he always had someone drive him wherever he needed to be. When that kind of service was available, who’d stop to think about purchasing a vehicle?

But that was not entirely the reason. His father, Abel, wanted his son to be honorable and noble and the best example for every person, female or male, out there. But above all else, he wanted his son to be better than his own father. Abel knew what happened when adolescent boys owned expensive, sport cars. There wasn’t much else to do with such cars after awhile but test their limits. The initial rush and pleasure from street races, bets and most importantly, girls, wasn’t as grand as the consequences that wasn’t obvious until it was bedtime and thoughts were all that were left racing.

After all, Abel had lived that life. And because of it came a mistake that he wasn’t sure how he felt about. He never told his son but Abel was everything he had been protecting Hale from. He was never going to know it now, but sometimes actions left permanent marks on Earth. Marks that even death itself could not erase.

About ten miles in, Hale’s feet were tiring from lack of rest and he grumbled when he realized the maid had no stagger in her walk at all. Deciding to muster it up, he lasted about two and a half more miles before deciding he had had enough.

He might have been a prince but that didn’t mean he had to listen to himself. He let a small chuckle pass through his cold lips as he searched for a spot to sit down. The maid kept walking, getting about as far as the next mile before turning around. By this time, Hale had shuffled a pile of snow to one side, slipped off his coat and put it on the little grassy area that peeked from under and promptly sat down.

“What are you doing?” Rose asked the second she was in earshot. Her cheeks were flaming red and Hale did not know if it was from the cold or her irritation. But thinking again he didn’t care. He picked up a small twig from the side of the road, flicking away the small rocks with his thumb and started making shapes in the snow. When he carved his fourth shape, a crown that looked more like a cake, the girl was a mere foot or so away from him.

“Did you hear me?” she asked, trying not to let show how his little stunt annoyed her. He would’ve been mad too, walking a mile and then back, especially adding the previous distance covered. But because he was sitting comfortably (albeit a bit too cold for his liking) and his legs weren’t suffering from lack of energy, Hale was content and let a ghost of a smile touch his lips.

“No. I don’t think I heard you asking me what I am doing.” He could see his words made a huge impact on her, increasing the colour of her cheeks at an alarming rate. He waited for the shout but it never came. All he heard was the howl of the wind as it bit into his exposed skin and trying to attack the little gaps between the buttons of his shirt. It was a bit unnerving sitting there with her casting a small shadow above him and not uttering a word. Hale hated company and silence was always his better option than a conversation that always ended far sooner than it was intended for, mostly due to it being shunned away by Hale’s sarcastic one-liners and often asshole-worthy insults.

Although he did it cunningly, his guests (or sometimes audiences as they watched him more than talked) kept their distances, only exchanging a polite nod to keep their respectable images still polished which Hale occasionally returned if his father had been watching him at the time. But it had been awhile since he was in the company of anyone (Thames had always been there so he was excluded) and he felt the need to practice old habits.

“Ahem.” He cleared his throat, lazily meeting the gaze of the now perplexed maid girl, who had a clear expression on her face. It was still red but it wasn’t scrunched up together in anger as it had been a few moments ago. It now held a hint of curiosity.

“You are blocking my sun, my lady. Kindly seat your tush down.”

Five, six, seven. Hale ticked off the seconds waiting until his words would sink in and the nasty remarks or even slaps, to come his way. He watched as her eyes fell towards the side and her lips parted lightly, her rather miniscule brain picking out the pieces of his sentence. “My lady” produced a slight blush which would’ve gone unnoticed from the amount of color her cheeks already had but Hale had been watching keenly and thus, spotted it instantly. “Your tush”, although usually a blush in reaction, made her legs shuffle and her body turn towards the left, effectively getting her butt out of his line of view. And finally, after sixty three and a half second, the childish jab at the size of her bottom clicked in her head and a human lioness was now standing before him.

She seemed to have been struggling (maybe wondering whether to kick or slap him perhaps) before she threw herself in a heap on the floor, her legs jumping in the air. Hale blinked, and not because of the snow that got kicked in his eye when she fell. He looked over at the person beside him in bewilderment, trying to understand what had happened just now.

“That was rude.” he heard her whisper, her voice shaking. From the cold or her emotions, Hale could not tell.

“That deserved a slap.” he said bluntly and then shut his mouth. What was wrong with him? Did he want to get slapped? He distantly remembered the last time he’d gotten a blow to his handsome cheek. It happened quite often back in the day that he had gotten used to it, really. It didn’t sting as much after. But it had been months since then, his skin was as good as untouched. He would feel the next slap as if it were his very first.

“I thought so too.” she said again, rubbing her bare hands together. Hale’s palms were being kept warm by the pockets of his coat and when he looked at the girl’s, he realized she wasn’t’ even wearing one. How had he not noticed that she was only wearing the worn-out attire she had on from the morning? Why hadn’t she worn anything to protect herself? It was bloody cold, Hale thought to himself.

“We should get going.” Hale mumbled when his conscience realized he was staring at her openly. She just sat there and stared at him back with her sky eyes, not even asking him why he was looking at her. He stood up suddenly, kicking his left boot to shake off the snow and trudged down the road.

“Wait.” he heard her shout and watched as she used her bare hands to lift herself off of the floor, before bending down to pick up his coat. She jogged her way to where Hale stood still, dusting off the coat quickly before stretching it at arm’s length.

“Your coat.” she said courtly.

For the longest time, he just stared at her; taking in her icy eyes, her rosy cheeks and her contrastingly pale neck. Then his eyes traveled down until he took in her whole form, lingering slightly on some areas before landing lastly on the coat that was held in her cold, red hands.

“I don’t want it anymore.” he said, looking back up to meet her bewildered gaze.

“But—“

“It’s filthy now, you expect me to wear it after it touched the ground? Forget it.” And with that, he turned away from her and kept walking the rest of the mile, shoving his cold hands inside his pants. He looked over his shoulder at the girl who was still standing where he left her and shouted, “You’re welcome to keep it, you know. I bet it suits you now.”

Hale didn’t look back after that but he heard her quick footsteps catching up to him after awhile. He chanced a sideways glance at her when she did and noticed the tint of a smile on her small, pink lips, his coat now around her tiny, curved body. It didn’t fit her at all, the sleeves obscuring all of her hands except for the tips of her fingers and the color didn’t suit her one bit. Her eyes flickered up to his face and caught off guard, Hale glared at her and picked up his pace. She glared back playfully and easily caught up again. He sighed and let his feet drag, knowing he wasn’t going to get rid of her company and her ridiculous pink lips anytime soon.

But he found that it wasn’t as bad as he thought. As long as she didn’t talk, Hale found he could perhaps get used to this.

Perhaps.



And I suppose I was a one-man circus.