This Resurrection
Chapter One
The excitement in her eyes glimmered, showing off the perfect beauty extracted off her deep grey pearls.
“Welcome home, father.” She greeted, her broad smile always making the old man’s day.
He was a very busy man; always out of the country leaving behind his precious daughter in the hands of maids and guards. His wife passed on when Eva was a little girl, the passing affected him greatly.
Lawrence Audovera has never gotten over his wife’s death; not in a way that his daughter or his aquainteces had believed. He grieved but he knew he had to keep his mind off it. He then turned his attention on the business he was venturing into, shipping goods. Since the business had taken off, that was all he concentrated on, nothing else mattered.
Eva often was alone at the house, with nothing much to do at hand. She was curious and young, wanting to find out more about anything imaginable, sometimes going to deep. She was ambitious, wanting to venture into something she doesn’t know of and achieving it till great lengths. Much like her late mother, how her father had described it. And she kept on believing, believing that she would achieve them. Eventually.
She met a man one day, he was one of the workers for her father and one of the villager’s son. A pauper. She was mystified by him, his eyes, how graciously he moves, the way he converses. Money didn’t mean a thing to Eva, she wanted to go beyond that. She believed life was so much more then work and money; life was supposed to be full of love and passion. Life wasn’t meant for burrying yourself chest high into work that you couldn’t get yourself to breathe.
She liked this man, he went by the name of Alexander Bartholomew. Alexander was in his early twenties with a built body and ocean deep blue eyes. He was gorgeous, a man that was lusted over- that is if people didn’t know that he wasn’t someone with a rank. The son of a fellow villager, striving to work long and hard to make ends meet. He was confident that, if he worked hard enough he’d benefit over the years after. He doesn’t want his bloodline to ever suffer the poverty he is suffering now. He has great visions, those that will come true once he has achieved a higher status.
Lawrence Audovera setteled in his big arm shair as the servants came in with small cups of tea. His daughter seated across from him, her eyes mesmerized by the jewels and the soft fabric that caressed her soft hands.
“Sir Audovera,” called his assistant as he marched into the room, “There’s someone here to see you. A young man from the Bartholemew clan wanting to speak about the workload. Do you want to see him?”
The older Audovera nodded, “Send him in.”
Alexander crossed the treshold of the living room, his eyes meeting of those of cold gray ones. He greeted Lawrence Audovera, bowing his head in mutual respect, and turned to his daughter, the one he has been keeping his eyes on since he saw her, a smile starting to appear on his face.
Lawrence eyed the pair. As Alexander Bartholomew conversed, he kept stealing little glances at his only daughter. She too was looking exceptionally excited at the presence of the young man. A little bit too excited. Lawrence Audovera didn’t like that, he didn’t want his daughter to end up in the hands of a pauper. He was a man of name and wouldn’t go in shame as such to pair up his daughter with a poor man’s son. She was more capable of that, she deserved more then that.
But the only thing, and most important, that Lawerence Audovera didn’t know was how he felt when he first fell for his wife. He had forgotten how to care, how to cherish. He forgot how another person’s life can be more precious then his own. That was how Eva felt for the man that sat in front of her, conversing in a light speech with her father. Only hopes were up, right now.
“Welcome home, father.” She greeted, her broad smile always making the old man’s day.
He was a very busy man; always out of the country leaving behind his precious daughter in the hands of maids and guards. His wife passed on when Eva was a little girl, the passing affected him greatly.
Lawrence Audovera has never gotten over his wife’s death; not in a way that his daughter or his aquainteces had believed. He grieved but he knew he had to keep his mind off it. He then turned his attention on the business he was venturing into, shipping goods. Since the business had taken off, that was all he concentrated on, nothing else mattered.
Eva often was alone at the house, with nothing much to do at hand. She was curious and young, wanting to find out more about anything imaginable, sometimes going to deep. She was ambitious, wanting to venture into something she doesn’t know of and achieving it till great lengths. Much like her late mother, how her father had described it. And she kept on believing, believing that she would achieve them. Eventually.
She met a man one day, he was one of the workers for her father and one of the villager’s son. A pauper. She was mystified by him, his eyes, how graciously he moves, the way he converses. Money didn’t mean a thing to Eva, she wanted to go beyond that. She believed life was so much more then work and money; life was supposed to be full of love and passion. Life wasn’t meant for burrying yourself chest high into work that you couldn’t get yourself to breathe.
She liked this man, he went by the name of Alexander Bartholomew. Alexander was in his early twenties with a built body and ocean deep blue eyes. He was gorgeous, a man that was lusted over- that is if people didn’t know that he wasn’t someone with a rank. The son of a fellow villager, striving to work long and hard to make ends meet. He was confident that, if he worked hard enough he’d benefit over the years after. He doesn’t want his bloodline to ever suffer the poverty he is suffering now. He has great visions, those that will come true once he has achieved a higher status.
Lawrence Audovera setteled in his big arm shair as the servants came in with small cups of tea. His daughter seated across from him, her eyes mesmerized by the jewels and the soft fabric that caressed her soft hands.
“Sir Audovera,” called his assistant as he marched into the room, “There’s someone here to see you. A young man from the Bartholemew clan wanting to speak about the workload. Do you want to see him?”
The older Audovera nodded, “Send him in.”
Alexander crossed the treshold of the living room, his eyes meeting of those of cold gray ones. He greeted Lawrence Audovera, bowing his head in mutual respect, and turned to his daughter, the one he has been keeping his eyes on since he saw her, a smile starting to appear on his face.
Lawrence eyed the pair. As Alexander Bartholomew conversed, he kept stealing little glances at his only daughter. She too was looking exceptionally excited at the presence of the young man. A little bit too excited. Lawrence Audovera didn’t like that, he didn’t want his daughter to end up in the hands of a pauper. He was a man of name and wouldn’t go in shame as such to pair up his daughter with a poor man’s son. She was more capable of that, she deserved more then that.
But the only thing, and most important, that Lawerence Audovera didn’t know was how he felt when he first fell for his wife. He had forgotten how to care, how to cherish. He forgot how another person’s life can be more precious then his own. That was how Eva felt for the man that sat in front of her, conversing in a light speech with her father. Only hopes were up, right now.
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Isn't this lovely.