FanFiction.Net - unleash your imagination|
Author of 97 Stories |
In which DG doesn't choose a suitor.
"I don't understand," DG fumed as she tried to press down the ruffles on a garish blue dress that she supposed was trying to match her eyes, "why I have to start dating at all."
Cain's following grumble might have been an answer, or perhaps he had been clearing his throat. He looked even less amused than she did, which was definitely saying something. He sat across the room in an uncomfortably-overstuffed chair, trying to look as nonchalant as possible. DG continued to poke and prod at her dress as she turned in the mirror--there had to be some angle that was flattering.
"You'd think I'd get a choice in the matter, is all," she mumbled. "It is my body, after all. I should get say on who gets to touch it, right?"
Cain was looking rather pointedly at his feet, as if they were suddenly extremely interesting. "You get a choice," muttered back. "Your pick of which drooling, ridiculous excuse for a royal fleabag you want shoving his tongue down your throat."
"Oh God!" DG cried, throwing her hands up over her eyes. "I need a Brillo pad to scrub out my mind's eye!"
Cain's eyebrows drew down succinctly. "What?"
"Nevermind." She sighed, fussing with the ruffles once more, and pondered whether ripping them off would be enough to excuse her from the gambit her mother had set before her that afternoon.
Cain stood, one hand on his gun to make sure that it was still beside him. "You ready for this, Princess?"
"I'm gonna die," she grumbled, looking anything but the perky princess she was supposed to be. "I'm gonna kill her and then I'm gonna die." She gave him the once-over, taking in the familiar Tin Man uniform with a disdainful gaze. "How'd you get stuck tagging along with me, anyway?"
"Protection detail." Cain's face was grim as he patted the gun at his hip. "In case anyone decides to get frisky."
DG's lips finally pulled back in a smile at the mental image he'd created for her, of Wyatt Cain holding some young upstart a foot off the floor by his collar, gun flashing and teeth bared like a protective guard dog.
The reception room of the palace at Finaqua wasn't as large as the ballroom in either this or the Northern Island castle, but it was fitting for the occasion. Blue satin had been draped at the windows, something that DG found quite unnecessary. Blue and white flowers had been grouped together in vases on small tables set about the room, around which the gentlemen sat. There seemed to be a sea of them, but DG was sure that her worried, fevered brain was multiplying them against reason. There still had to be at least forty young men gathered in the reception room, all of them dressed up in finery to see her. To court her. A sick feeling decided to settle in her stomach, and she couldn't swallow it away.
"Oh man," DG sighed, looking helpless as she stood nervously in the double-wide doorway. "I think I'm gonna be sick."
"As long as you're sick in the other direction," Cain advised from behind her.
While not exactly the most encouraging words she'd heard from him, or anyone else for that matter, she stepped forward into the room, emboldened. If only to prove to Mr. Cain that she could, indeed, pull off this big-girl stunt, she set her jaw proudly and sauntered forward toward the roomful of suitors. She'd have to remember to scowl at her mother later.
She was announced by the page at the door, of course, and in a loud, obtrusive voice. She was sure that strangers across the castle now knew that she had entered the reception room, and she winced as all eyes turned to her and chatter stopped quickly. DG raised her hand nervously to wave. Cain turned his barking laugh into a cough into his hand. DG made a point not to look at him.
They were polite and allowed the princess to mingle. At least they had the reservation to not pounce on her at once, like a hydra. Her first destination took her to a small group of three young men, all looking clean and sharp. They bowed as she approached.
One in particular had caught her attention. He called himself Nox, the son of an earl, or a duke, or perhaps a lord. DG wasn't quite sure which, for he spoke quite quickly--obviously nervous in the presence of a bona fide Princess. She wondered if it was anything like the time she had stood in line to get Kenny Chesney's autograph. She smiled at the memory, and Nox must have mistaken it for interest in his story, for he continued on with renewed strength. Something about a horse, and maybe gelatin.
"I don't like him," a voice muttered just over her right shoulder. She nearly jumped, and Nox actually sprung back at the sudden appearance of Wyatt Cain.
She glared up at him over her shoulder. "Why not?"
Cain squinted at Nox from behind DG in a threatening manner. "He's got squinty eyes. He looks shifty."
DG sighed in an irritated way though her nose and walked quickly away from the hovering shadow behind her. Cain glared once more at Nox, pointing with two fingers at his own eyes, then back at Nox. His point was clear, and he turned to follow DG. Nox and his two companions edged to the door, never taking their eyes off of the Tin Man.
DG threw a look over her shoulder to see if she'd lost Cain, and was satisfied enough to stand beside another young man. He kissed her hand once and as he opened his mouth to give her his name, the princess heard a voice at her shoulder again. "He smiles too much. He's up to something."
"Not everyone has to be up to something," she quipped back.
She stalked away nonetheless, hoping to lose her bodyguard in the crowd of young men eager to find her eye and garner some attention for themselves.
Before she could even attempt to chat up a rather nice-looking fellow, Cain was beside her, arms crossed and observing her new choice. "He's awful short, don't you think?" He stood a good two or three inches shorter than DG, and she wasn't even in heels. While she silently admitted that Cain had a point, she continued to wear her mask of irritation.
"He has girl's hands," Cain mumbled in DG's ear as she shook hands with another young man, this one tall and handsome, with ears that stuck out slightly. His handshake was unnaturally soft and moisturized.
"He's missing a tooth," Cain pointed out, literally, as she approached the man standing beside the one with feminine hands. "Probably has a violent streak."
"Pot. Kettle. Look it up," she muttered, glaring hard at him again.
One man stepped out toward DG, smiling pleasantly with his hands clasped behind his back. He introduced himself right out as Fortinbras. Cain's eyes narrowed and his brows crept slowly up his forehead. He exchanged an odd look with DG, then whispered, "Fortinbras? Are you serious? You don't even need me on that one."
DG continued to make her way around the room to try and at least be civil to the men her mother had invited to woo her. The ever-present Tin Man didn't help matters at all. When at last DG thought that she had found the perfect specimen of man among them, she mentally dared Cain to find fault in him.
He had bronze skin and a smile that seemed to light his face. His hair was black and combed away from his square, handsome face. His eyes were bright green and full of expression. He was tall, and evidently muscular even under his suit. He had a flat Grecian nose, and when DG approached, he bowed respectfully.
"Highness," he said with a slight accent of origin unknown.
She smiled in a slightly giddy way as he stood from his deep bow. His pretty eyes inspected her face, but he was quickly distracted by the angry, brooding, hovering Wyatt Cain beside her. DG followed his eyes and stared up at Cain in complete exasperation.
"Oh, come on!" She cried. "What can you possibly have to say about him? He's gorgeous!"
Cain crossed his arms. He allowed a thick pause as his eyebrows knit in anger. "He gives me the creeps."
DG finally threw up her arms and uttered a frustrated mixture of a growl and a scream. The room went silent. All eyes were on her again, but this time, it wasn't nerves tingling that set her insides on fire. She was glaring up at the man in the hat, and one accusatory finger shot out to poke him in the chest.
"No one's good enough!" She spat. "You'll never let me talk to anyone because no one's ever gonna meet your standards!"
He said nothing, and she assaulted him once again with her finger poking him just below the collarbone.
"They have personalities under the missing teeth and the girly hands, you know! Maybe if I got to talk to anyone else, I might actually like them!" She gasped. "You're worried I'd like them!"
His scowl deepened, and while he opened his mouth to say something once, he stopped himself quickly. This only further infuriated the princess.
"What the hell is wrong with you, anyway?" She shouted, entirely too close.
"They're not me!!" He shouted suddenly, his face going fully red.
DG's anger dropped away from her face in an instant, and she was left to simply gape at him. He obviously regretted saying it, but it was entirely too late at that point. He couldn't quite bring himself to clamp his jaw shut as he wanted to, and it hung open uselessly as he stared down at her with red hot intensity. She could only blink in astonishment.
"Cain...?" She asked at last, as if to check that he was still alive behind those eyes.
He finally snapped his jaw shut, squared his shoulders, dug up any pride and dignity he could muster, and stalked quickly off for the nearest door. Both DG and the man with the straight Roman nose stared after him, along with most of the room.
"Who was that?" The man asked, shaking his head.
DG gave him a sharp look that punctured his ego in an instant. "Sorry, Hercules," she muttered, shoving past him. "I gotta go." She took off after Cain, through the door, and disappeared.
From the balcony overlooking the reception hall, Queen Lavender exchanged a smug look with her eldest daughter, who returned it with a curling smile. Az shook her head, looking down on the suddenly confused rabble of nobility below them.
"A bunch of good-looking young royals upstaged by a stuffy old Tin Man," Az murmured, grinning. "You've outdone yourself, Mother."
"I only do what I can," she replied, and smiled down upon her work.
:
:
:
:
