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Zed,” she continued dreamily still looking at her father, “of Lucinda living on roots and garbage until she got lucky and became the mistress of the man who was the king’s assistant. They drove the poor bugger insane.”
He shook his head. "What a dreadful chap! I think he might be the devil!"
Belinda looked away for a second. "I don’t know if he is.”
There was a painful silence broken by Zeddy, who suddenly changed subject.
“I don’t think we should speak of this at this day.” She shook her head. After a while he asked her: "Have you had a nice birthday, dear?" She looked at him with bright eyes and nodded eagerly, surprised over the change of mood. "Good!" He stroked her cheek. "My, my, my. Why aren't you my daughter, love?"
"You just want to be my boyfriend, you old codger!"
He threw his head up in the air and laughed. "Watch out. Or this dirty old man is going to take you away on his horse and gallop away with you somewhere!"
Belinda looked at him, bemused. "Keep you in a cave like a treasure! Forever!"
Her left hand forefinger ran across his chest and ended up playing with a golden button upon his toga vest. She grew quiet for a moment. In her mind, Belinda was crying: “Why cannot anyone see that I am in pain?” She nodded slowly and smiled at Zeddy. "Remember when I insisted you sit on the floor and play cards with me?" He laughed. "Remember how mad I got that time when you didn’t want to play?" He nodded. "I didn't know three of your captains were waiting for an hour in the next room." She gave him a fake blow across the head. "You could've said something, Zeddy! After all, I was only seven! I only had my own will to think of."
"I never could say no to you, you know that. You always were stubborn…"
Belinda smiled, patting him on the cheek. "I guess that's true. I still am. I guess that will never change. I have to accept it, although it drives people crazy from time to time." Zedrick dismissed that thought with the brush of one hand.
"Ah, let them be irritated. It's all jealousy."
“Still, I wish I weren’t so harsh to my siblings some times!”
Belinda clapped Zeddy on the knee and Zedrick smiled, thoughtfully.
"Belinda, you are going to be a grand ruler one day!" And Belinda put her head against his shoulder and sighed. "That's right lean on Uncle Zeddy…" She started tickling him. "Good sweet Christ! This girl is mad." The people around them started laughing along with them, inspired by their folly. After a while she stopped and said, "Highly unorthodox!"
He started tickling her under her arms. She shrieked. "You're filthy!" That didn't stop him. "Bloody damn filthy!"
"Watch your language, Your Highness! “
"Watch your fingers!"
And the hush that followed was filled with mystery although overplayed by giddy mirth. It seemed that evening; the men around her were more than normally appreciative of her alluring, mysterious character, always subject to change and surprise. Whilst Alex spent his evening with Lancelot in his lap reading him Prosperanian folk stories, Belinda spent hers trying to be happy and wondering why she wasn’t. Whilst her husband spent his evening discussing fencing with Patrick, Belinda got very drunk and tried to forget that that there was something missing in her life.
Whilst all her sisters found peace in conversation about cooking or make-up or receptions with famous men, she found her peace in discussion about politics and spirituality. Once in a while she would stand up and dance to Bantrard’s music. He would play off, “Stamp your feet, for love is in town,” and she would dance with Steven for a half hour.
The orchestra would play “Bedroom Roses” for the umpteenth time with an improvisation in the middle and she would invite Patrick or her father for a dance. Patrick had excused himself for calling her a bitch and she had excused herself for saying he was steered by his groin. She knew why he had become nicer. He had copulated with Roberta again in a secret room. It was none of her business.
She grabbed her mother and danced across the room. She disguised so well that she was actually very afraid that not even her husband noticed her tears, but Belinda was afraid. She was afraid of Lucinda, not of Nina Ray. She always had been. She had thought kicking Nina would kill Lucinda. She had been wrong. About one o’clock the party died down and everyone went with lanterns back to their rooms. Sieglinde ended up discussing diplomacy with Zedrick under her lantern for an hour on her balcony while her husband the king snored in his room. They were of different opinion so when the topic of Belinda came up, Zeddy said she seemed very much in control and it was left at that. Belinda fell asleep upon her husband’s shoulder that night.
Now all that she had to wait for was the promise to be kept. Alexander dreamt of coins in wells and a giggling robin. That night Belinda slept well, strangely enough. There were no dreams, not even good ones, just deep sleep. Steven was at her side and he loved her very much.
That was enough, at least for the evening.
Friday Morning, June 5th, 1422 A.D.
The way the sun shone into the room and woke her up made the day start well: softly. She rubbed her eyes, walking up to the bronze basin. Marie-Louise must’ve poured fresh water in there while she was sleeping because it was full. She washed her face and armpits off with water and sprayed some of the perfume her father had brought with him from his visit in Alliland. It was an ancient Roman combination: apricot, roses and honey refined with some cinnamon.
Belinda stood by the basin for a while, contemplating the prospect of going out and searching for Steven, but just lifted her head, looked at herself in the mirror and drifted away. She looked young. Yet, her eyes were the eyes of a much older, wiser woman. Were those the eyes of an arrogant girl? Some people called her aloof. Why was that? She was smart. She wasn't supposed to hide that, was she? Normal women perhaps accepted just becoming maids. Thank God it was different for royal women. She wanted to change the role of women. Women should have equal chances, rich or poor. Thank God that the ideas and inventions of the Roman Empire had been taken over by the Prosperanian Empire. She dared not even think of the fall that civilization would've experienced if the sewer-system and the bathhouses, the roads and houses and the medicine and homeopathies of Rome hadn't been taken over by the rest of Medatlantia with its fall. What would've happened, she wondered? Well, maybe the renaissance that followed centuries later after Rome’s fall would've come first now over one millennia after the fall of Rome or later. A lot of time lost in other words. But she still felt that women were not equal enough in Prosperania. When she became queen, or empress, as her official title would be, she would change that, putting women in important positions.
She went back to bed and sat down. Belinda then sat at the edge of her bed, wearing the lace-collared nightgown her mother had given her yesterday. Pink flowers with blue leaves were scattered across its white cotton surface and its texture was smooth and sweet against her skin. It was nicely feminine and comfortable, pretty and precisely her casual kind of night time clothing. The fact that her mother had made it herself was very special for Belinda. She liked anything that her mother did herself, be it the cooking or the night time talks. It was eleven o' clock in the morning and the bright, white light from the sun outside shone through the closed curtains upon it.
She picked up the book of poems that Belinda's sister Patricia had written for her and given to her yesterday. They were all bound together in a book labelled:
Poems by Patricia Ariana Carina
For Belinda
After reading the book for a half hour, she put it away and began asking herself who was out and about. Steven was up. The party had apparently gone on for a while when she went to bed at two o’clock. How many were drunk enough to have headaches today? Enough people, she guessed. Was Zedrick still drunk? Surely. He had been in quite a mood yesterday. What had he said? "Watch out or this dirty old man is going to take you away on his horse and gallop away with you somewhere. Keep you in a cave like a treasure! Forever!"
The fact was that he had been part of the rescue that galloped her away from what had almost killed her. That was why that joke was a good one.
She yawned again as she slowly walked up to the window to see what was happening in front of the castle. Her eyes were only half-open, just having woken up. She stretched for a bit there in solitude and tousled her hair. As she opened the red curtains and let light flood into the white room like a fresh breeze on a hot day, she held her hands in front of the face and grinned. Then she opened the door and walked out on her terrace. The freshness of the marble against her bare feet was very nice. She leaned against the stone-balustrade and looked down, standing on her toes.
Fabian and Patrick were chasing Lance down one of the mazes. She could see that clearly from her room on the second floor. They seemed to have such a good time. The breeze was blowing in her nightgown and the sun was shining through it, casting a silhouette of her body against the fabric. The breeze was refreshing.
A breakfast out here would be nice. She would call for the maid to bring her some. Just a while longer out here and then she would go for a dip. A dip in the pond would be nice. Was that a squirrel on that tree? She thought it was, how fast it ran up the stem. How agile. There was a bird on the tree as well. The breeze blew her hair around a bit and a lock of it fell down across her chest as she felt two strong hands embrace her, lift her hair up and kiss her neck.
"Good morning, my love!" Steven said, kissing her décolletage.
"Don't ever stop doing that. It feels good." She turned around. Steven caressed her cheek.
"Slept well?"
"No dreams."
“That’s good. We like that,” Steven agreed. “What else?”
“Nothing special” Belinda said, softly. “Only that I’m standing here dreaming and scheming.” She half-smiled at hime and half-closed her eyes. “I’m thinking of skinny dipping in the pond later. Want to join me for a swim in the fresh water?”
Steven smiled. “I’d love to,” he mused. “Only I promised your father to help him plan a strategic plan for shaping up the harbour controls. He says it’ll take all day. I am due there in an hour.”
“Don’t you men ever stop working?” Belinda spat.
Steven laughed, throwing his head back. “No.” He looked back at her and ran his fingers along her chin. “I do know a remedy for hang-over, though. It’s better than skinny dipping.”
“Uh-Huh?” Belinda inquired, sensually.
“Come into the bedroom and I will show you, my lady of worship.”
“Hmmm?” Belinda responded, coquettish. “Does it hurt?”
Steven chuckled and took her
He shook his head. "What a dreadful chap! I think he might be the devil!"
Belinda looked away for a second. "I don’t know if he is.”
There was a painful silence broken by Zeddy, who suddenly changed subject.
“I don’t think we should speak of this at this day.” She shook her head. After a while he asked her: "Have you had a nice birthday, dear?" She looked at him with bright eyes and nodded eagerly, surprised over the change of mood. "Good!" He stroked her cheek. "My, my, my. Why aren't you my daughter, love?"
"You just want to be my boyfriend, you old codger!"
He threw his head up in the air and laughed. "Watch out. Or this dirty old man is going to take you away on his horse and gallop away with you somewhere!"
Belinda looked at him, bemused. "Keep you in a cave like a treasure! Forever!"
Her left hand forefinger ran across his chest and ended up playing with a golden button upon his toga vest. She grew quiet for a moment. In her mind, Belinda was crying: “Why cannot anyone see that I am in pain?” She nodded slowly and smiled at Zeddy. "Remember when I insisted you sit on the floor and play cards with me?" He laughed. "Remember how mad I got that time when you didn’t want to play?" He nodded. "I didn't know three of your captains were waiting for an hour in the next room." She gave him a fake blow across the head. "You could've said something, Zeddy! After all, I was only seven! I only had my own will to think of."
"I never could say no to you, you know that. You always were stubborn…"
Belinda smiled, patting him on the cheek. "I guess that's true. I still am. I guess that will never change. I have to accept it, although it drives people crazy from time to time." Zedrick dismissed that thought with the brush of one hand.
"Ah, let them be irritated. It's all jealousy."
“Still, I wish I weren’t so harsh to my siblings some times!”
Belinda clapped Zeddy on the knee and Zedrick smiled, thoughtfully.
"Belinda, you are going to be a grand ruler one day!" And Belinda put her head against his shoulder and sighed. "That's right lean on Uncle Zeddy…" She started tickling him. "Good sweet Christ! This girl is mad." The people around them started laughing along with them, inspired by their folly. After a while she stopped and said, "Highly unorthodox!"
He started tickling her under her arms. She shrieked. "You're filthy!" That didn't stop him. "Bloody damn filthy!"
"Watch your language, Your Highness! “
"Watch your fingers!"
And the hush that followed was filled with mystery although overplayed by giddy mirth. It seemed that evening; the men around her were more than normally appreciative of her alluring, mysterious character, always subject to change and surprise. Whilst Alex spent his evening with Lancelot in his lap reading him Prosperanian folk stories, Belinda spent hers trying to be happy and wondering why she wasn’t. Whilst her husband spent his evening discussing fencing with Patrick, Belinda got very drunk and tried to forget that that there was something missing in her life.
Whilst all her sisters found peace in conversation about cooking or make-up or receptions with famous men, she found her peace in discussion about politics and spirituality. Once in a while she would stand up and dance to Bantrard’s music. He would play off, “Stamp your feet, for love is in town,” and she would dance with Steven for a half hour.
The orchestra would play “Bedroom Roses” for the umpteenth time with an improvisation in the middle and she would invite Patrick or her father for a dance. Patrick had excused himself for calling her a bitch and she had excused herself for saying he was steered by his groin. She knew why he had become nicer. He had copulated with Roberta again in a secret room. It was none of her business.
She grabbed her mother and danced across the room. She disguised so well that she was actually very afraid that not even her husband noticed her tears, but Belinda was afraid. She was afraid of Lucinda, not of Nina Ray. She always had been. She had thought kicking Nina would kill Lucinda. She had been wrong. About one o’clock the party died down and everyone went with lanterns back to their rooms. Sieglinde ended up discussing diplomacy with Zedrick under her lantern for an hour on her balcony while her husband the king snored in his room. They were of different opinion so when the topic of Belinda came up, Zeddy said she seemed very much in control and it was left at that. Belinda fell asleep upon her husband’s shoulder that night.
Now all that she had to wait for was the promise to be kept. Alexander dreamt of coins in wells and a giggling robin. That night Belinda slept well, strangely enough. There were no dreams, not even good ones, just deep sleep. Steven was at her side and he loved her very much.
That was enough, at least for the evening.
Friday Morning, June 5th, 1422 A.D.
The way the sun shone into the room and woke her up made the day start well: softly. She rubbed her eyes, walking up to the bronze basin. Marie-Louise must’ve poured fresh water in there while she was sleeping because it was full. She washed her face and armpits off with water and sprayed some of the perfume her father had brought with him from his visit in Alliland. It was an ancient Roman combination: apricot, roses and honey refined with some cinnamon.
Belinda stood by the basin for a while, contemplating the prospect of going out and searching for Steven, but just lifted her head, looked at herself in the mirror and drifted away. She looked young. Yet, her eyes were the eyes of a much older, wiser woman. Were those the eyes of an arrogant girl? Some people called her aloof. Why was that? She was smart. She wasn't supposed to hide that, was she? Normal women perhaps accepted just becoming maids. Thank God it was different for royal women. She wanted to change the role of women. Women should have equal chances, rich or poor. Thank God that the ideas and inventions of the Roman Empire had been taken over by the Prosperanian Empire. She dared not even think of the fall that civilization would've experienced if the sewer-system and the bathhouses, the roads and houses and the medicine and homeopathies of Rome hadn't been taken over by the rest of Medatlantia with its fall. What would've happened, she wondered? Well, maybe the renaissance that followed centuries later after Rome’s fall would've come first now over one millennia after the fall of Rome or later. A lot of time lost in other words. But she still felt that women were not equal enough in Prosperania. When she became queen, or empress, as her official title would be, she would change that, putting women in important positions.
She went back to bed and sat down. Belinda then sat at the edge of her bed, wearing the lace-collared nightgown her mother had given her yesterday. Pink flowers with blue leaves were scattered across its white cotton surface and its texture was smooth and sweet against her skin. It was nicely feminine and comfortable, pretty and precisely her casual kind of night time clothing. The fact that her mother had made it herself was very special for Belinda. She liked anything that her mother did herself, be it the cooking or the night time talks. It was eleven o' clock in the morning and the bright, white light from the sun outside shone through the closed curtains upon it.
She picked up the book of poems that Belinda's sister Patricia had written for her and given to her yesterday. They were all bound together in a book labelled:
Poems by Patricia Ariana Carina
For Belinda
After reading the book for a half hour, she put it away and began asking herself who was out and about. Steven was up. The party had apparently gone on for a while when she went to bed at two o’clock. How many were drunk enough to have headaches today? Enough people, she guessed. Was Zedrick still drunk? Surely. He had been in quite a mood yesterday. What had he said? "Watch out or this dirty old man is going to take you away on his horse and gallop away with you somewhere. Keep you in a cave like a treasure! Forever!"
The fact was that he had been part of the rescue that galloped her away from what had almost killed her. That was why that joke was a good one.
She yawned again as she slowly walked up to the window to see what was happening in front of the castle. Her eyes were only half-open, just having woken up. She stretched for a bit there in solitude and tousled her hair. As she opened the red curtains and let light flood into the white room like a fresh breeze on a hot day, she held her hands in front of the face and grinned. Then she opened the door and walked out on her terrace. The freshness of the marble against her bare feet was very nice. She leaned against the stone-balustrade and looked down, standing on her toes.
Fabian and Patrick were chasing Lance down one of the mazes. She could see that clearly from her room on the second floor. They seemed to have such a good time. The breeze was blowing in her nightgown and the sun was shining through it, casting a silhouette of her body against the fabric. The breeze was refreshing.
A breakfast out here would be nice. She would call for the maid to bring her some. Just a while longer out here and then she would go for a dip. A dip in the pond would be nice. Was that a squirrel on that tree? She thought it was, how fast it ran up the stem. How agile. There was a bird on the tree as well. The breeze blew her hair around a bit and a lock of it fell down across her chest as she felt two strong hands embrace her, lift her hair up and kiss her neck.
"Good morning, my love!" Steven said, kissing her décolletage.
"Don't ever stop doing that. It feels good." She turned around. Steven caressed her cheek.
"Slept well?"
"No dreams."
“That’s good. We like that,” Steven agreed. “What else?”
“Nothing special” Belinda said, softly. “Only that I’m standing here dreaming and scheming.” She half-smiled at hime and half-closed her eyes. “I’m thinking of skinny dipping in the pond later. Want to join me for a swim in the fresh water?”
Steven smiled. “I’d love to,” he mused. “Only I promised your father to help him plan a strategic plan for shaping up the harbour controls. He says it’ll take all day. I am due there in an hour.”
“Don’t you men ever stop working?” Belinda spat.
Steven laughed, throwing his head back. “No.” He looked back at her and ran his fingers along her chin. “I do know a remedy for hang-over, though. It’s better than skinny dipping.”
“Uh-Huh?” Belinda inquired, sensually.
“Come into the bedroom and I will show you, my lady of worship.”
“Hmmm?” Belinda responded, coquettish. “Does it hurt?”
Steven chuckled and took her
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