Status: Has been on Hiatus due to the huge rush of uni life, but now first year is over, I'm going to do my best to give you lovelies the ending you deserve! =)
Diary of a Reluctant Ruler
So Began My Friday...
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Next day was Friday, and I was busy most of the day. I had a portrait sit-in from 10 till 12, which basically involved me sitting as still as possible whilst an artist tried to capture my image. Very, very boring. I apparently had a strange facial structure, so it took longer than most people to capture. What was that supposed to mean?
“Bonjour, majesté,” said Pierre, the French artist who had been chosen to paint me.
“Bonjour Pierre, Ca va?”
Hello Pierre, how are you?
“Ca va bien merci, majesté. Et toi?”
I’m well thank you, Majesty. And you?
“Tres bien, merci. Ca vous gene si j’ecoute la radio?”
Very good, thank you. Do you mind if I listen to the radio?
“Non, non.”
No, no.
“Merci.”
Thank you.
I switched on the radio, trying to find a station without rap or opera. I chose a French station out of courtesy to Pierre. It didn’t really matter to me, seeing as so many Adrian citizens spoke French as a second language. So began my Friday.
Bit of a boring beginning.
Maybe Miss Authoress is writing a filler.
What?! I’m not filler material!
Oh really?
Entirely action-packed, that’s me!
Well, maybe she’ll strike you from this bit if you ask nicely.
What?! I don’t want to be struck!
Well shut up then.
2 hours later I said goodbye to Pierre, and went to find Olly for some Lunch. She wasn’t in the library, or her room. I wondered how long I should look for her, as I had art in 45 minutes... I sighed, and went to the kitchen. Madeleine smiled at me, and grabbed my lunch from the counter. A leftover tartlet from last night and some milk.
“Mmmm... Madeleine, these are so delicious. All the food last night was.”
“Well, thank you Cherie,” Madeleine wiped her hands and sat down next to me, “I saw the papers.”
“You didn’t, did you?” I grimaced.
“Oui. You looked like a nice couple.”
I snorted, choking on the pastry.
“Heard your interview on the radio as well.”
“Which questions did they use?”
“One about your actual relationship to James, how you twisted your ankle... Whether you were single. They seemed to like that one. It cropped up a couple of times.”
“Well, at least it got sorted out quickly.”
Madeleine smiled, then disappeared to help a chef that had left something to boil over.
“There you are Phil,” James appeared at the kitchen door, “Am I allowed in?”
“As long as you don’t get in the way, you’re welcome,” Madeleine shouted from the other side of the huge kitchen. James smiled and sat down next to me.
“Our cook won’t let anyone in the kitchen,” James commented, “Olly’s gone into the city with Mum.”
“I was wondering where she was. Why didn’t you go?”
“Knowing Mum, she’d probably just want to shop. Besides, I thought you might like to show me around.”
My heart sky-rocketed, then began to hurtle back down again as I remembered art.
“Princess, remember?” I said, pointing to myself, “I’ve got an art lesson, sorry.”
“Sir, can I get you anything?” Madeleine asked.
“Wouldn’t mind,” James said, grinning.
They say the way to a man is through his stomach...
Er... I don’t want to go through James’ stomach.
It’s an expression, dimwit.
Madeleine put another tartlet in front of James, and pointed to the fridge if he wanted milk.
“You know, we’re going to have to do something about that,” James said, taking a bite.
“About what?”
“About your being a princess.”
“Oh yeah, because we can just waltz right into the job centre and ask for a change of career,” I said.
James laughed, shaking his head.
“No, I mean, disguise you or something.”
“Disguise me?”
“Yeah. Dye your hair... Or a wig or something...”
“A wig!”
He is not serious?
“Maybe not a wig...” James frowned.
“Maybe not a wig,” I agreed.
“What are you doing now?” James asked.
“I’m eating...” I said, waving the tartlet in his face. He made a swipe at it, but I swept it away and bit into it smugly.
“No, I mean this afternoon.”
“Art,” I repeated, wondering if he had short-term memory failure.
“Could you skip?” James asked.
“No. Grandmother would absolutely kill me.”
“How about this evening?”
“I’ve got that free,” I said shyly.
“Right. I’ll find you after tea.”
“Ok,” I nodded. “I’d better go.”
“See you Princess,” James waved as I closed the door. Was this a date? I wondered. I kept smiling as I went into art, which prompted my art teacher Miss Graham to ask me if I was feeling light headed, as I wasn’t known for my artistic talent.
That is an understatement.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
Next day was Friday, and I was busy most of the day. I had a portrait sit-in from 10 till 12, which basically involved me sitting as still as possible whilst an artist tried to capture my image. Very, very boring. I apparently had a strange facial structure, so it took longer than most people to capture. What was that supposed to mean?
“Bonjour, majesté,” said Pierre, the French artist who had been chosen to paint me.
“Bonjour Pierre, Ca va?”
Hello Pierre, how are you?
“Ca va bien merci, majesté. Et toi?”
I’m well thank you, Majesty. And you?
“Tres bien, merci. Ca vous gene si j’ecoute la radio?”
Very good, thank you. Do you mind if I listen to the radio?
“Non, non.”
No, no.
“Merci.”
Thank you.
I switched on the radio, trying to find a station without rap or opera. I chose a French station out of courtesy to Pierre. It didn’t really matter to me, seeing as so many Adrian citizens spoke French as a second language. So began my Friday.
Bit of a boring beginning.
Maybe Miss Authoress is writing a filler.
What?! I’m not filler material!
Oh really?
Entirely action-packed, that’s me!
Well, maybe she’ll strike you from this bit if you ask nicely.
What?! I don’t want to be struck!
Well shut up then.
2 hours later I said goodbye to Pierre, and went to find Olly for some Lunch. She wasn’t in the library, or her room. I wondered how long I should look for her, as I had art in 45 minutes... I sighed, and went to the kitchen. Madeleine smiled at me, and grabbed my lunch from the counter. A leftover tartlet from last night and some milk.
“Mmmm... Madeleine, these are so delicious. All the food last night was.”
“Well, thank you Cherie,” Madeleine wiped her hands and sat down next to me, “I saw the papers.”
“You didn’t, did you?” I grimaced.
“Oui. You looked like a nice couple.”
I snorted, choking on the pastry.
“Heard your interview on the radio as well.”
“Which questions did they use?”
“One about your actual relationship to James, how you twisted your ankle... Whether you were single. They seemed to like that one. It cropped up a couple of times.”
“Well, at least it got sorted out quickly.”
Madeleine smiled, then disappeared to help a chef that had left something to boil over.
“There you are Phil,” James appeared at the kitchen door, “Am I allowed in?”
“As long as you don’t get in the way, you’re welcome,” Madeleine shouted from the other side of the huge kitchen. James smiled and sat down next to me.
“Our cook won’t let anyone in the kitchen,” James commented, “Olly’s gone into the city with Mum.”
“I was wondering where she was. Why didn’t you go?”
“Knowing Mum, she’d probably just want to shop. Besides, I thought you might like to show me around.”
My heart sky-rocketed, then began to hurtle back down again as I remembered art.
“Princess, remember?” I said, pointing to myself, “I’ve got an art lesson, sorry.”
“Sir, can I get you anything?” Madeleine asked.
“Wouldn’t mind,” James said, grinning.
They say the way to a man is through his stomach...
Er... I don’t want to go through James’ stomach.
It’s an expression, dimwit.
Madeleine put another tartlet in front of James, and pointed to the fridge if he wanted milk.
“You know, we’re going to have to do something about that,” James said, taking a bite.
“About what?”
“About your being a princess.”
“Oh yeah, because we can just waltz right into the job centre and ask for a change of career,” I said.
James laughed, shaking his head.
“No, I mean, disguise you or something.”
“Disguise me?”
“Yeah. Dye your hair... Or a wig or something...”
“A wig!”
He is not serious?
“Maybe not a wig...” James frowned.
“Maybe not a wig,” I agreed.
“What are you doing now?” James asked.
“I’m eating...” I said, waving the tartlet in his face. He made a swipe at it, but I swept it away and bit into it smugly.
“No, I mean this afternoon.”
“Art,” I repeated, wondering if he had short-term memory failure.
“Could you skip?” James asked.
“No. Grandmother would absolutely kill me.”
“How about this evening?”
“I’ve got that free,” I said shyly.
“Right. I’ll find you after tea.”
“Ok,” I nodded. “I’d better go.”
“See you Princess,” James waved as I closed the door. Was this a date? I wondered. I kept smiling as I went into art, which prompted my art teacher Miss Graham to ask me if I was feeling light headed, as I wasn’t known for my artistic talent.
That is an understatement.
♠ ♠ ♠
I just found lovely lovely tune, which some people think should be Bella's lullaby for the new Twilight movie, though I think they've composed something else. But check it out anyway, it's called'The River Flows In You' by Yirumu.
It's beautiful. Here's a Link!
As always, I love you lovely commenters!
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Ivy, xXGreyWingsXx (c) 2008