Categories > Original > Romance > Confessions0 Reviews
Kristine thinks she's in love and she can't even talk to the guy! I can't say too much without giving it away. The rating is a comprehension thing, there's nothing bad in it.
I am writing to you from my camp. We declared war yesterday. But none of this pertains to him.
Yet I find myself at a loss for words, as I lie here next to the fire. I watch as the flames dance wildly, but gracefully, across the logs. They move so fast it is as if they are moving in slow motion. It is as if the wild flames are just gliding across an invisible barrier between itself and the logs. The flames appear to never consume the log.
Yet again I catch myself drifting away from the subject of my letter. I apologize, for my mind is elsewhere. As of late, my thoughts are all in a jumble. I cannot distinguish one from the other. I blame it on this bloody war.
The last time I saw him, was at his ball, over two weeks ago. He-dressed elegantly in family colors-and I-in a white gown-were dressed simply, nothing fancy to make a statement. I felt ashamed for the way I had dressed. All of the other noble ladies' dresses were magnificent. I felt as if I wore servants' rags.
But this ball was like no other, and the one that will stand out in my memories forever. This particular ball is when he first asked me to dance. I felt as if I were dreaming! Of course I did not trust my ears, therefore, I asked him what he said, and made my excuses as to why I did not hear him. Sure enough, that is what he said. I stayed calm and accepted his offer.
As we glided across the wooden floor, I felt as if I were floating. His graceful movements in turn made mine graceful also. The experience is beyond words. And the glares I received from the other ladies-who are trying their hardest to get him to court them-are, too, beyond description. They were awful!
I bent my head in shame and looked to the floor, but he would have none of that. He was quick to lift my chin and say, "You cannot dance properly if you look at the floor and let others distract you." This made me smile a little and I perked up...a bit. He was right of course. I could not let a bunch of hags get me depressed in a rare and beautiful moment.
Our bodies moved as one and soon I lost count of the songs. One song flowed into another and then another. I do not think anything would have stopped us, except the grumbling of my stomach interrupted my day dreaming.
His eyes crinkled with laughter, yet his face held its handsome composure. "I think," he began, "that you have neglected your stomach long enough. Please, go enjoy the delicious food before the Duke of Candlewood finishes what is left." I tried my best to smother the laughter threatening to escape my lips, but did a poor job of it.
As I made my way to the tables full of food, one of the other ladies caught him and took him back to dance. I could feel my face fall when I turned around to find that he was off dancing again.
After that, I snuck out the back doors and made my way to my bedchambers. I repeatedly told myself not to cry, for he is not mine to fret over. He danced with me for it was his obligation too. Thought that did not help the dam of tears to stay at bay. That was the second time I had cried myself to sleep.
However, I received word the following morn, from a trusted source, that the Queen from Kadmiel was planning to try and conquer our kingdom. That was not the news that made me angry, for this was foreseen a few years ago. What made me angry was that she was planning to kill off the wood elves. The very people I grew up around in the mountains. These people are like my brothers and sisters, yet they are wild and free. They are not bound by our laws, but have their own.
I practically grew up with them after my parents died. Both my younger brother and I took to the kind wood elves.
But I am writing to you to get my mind off of such disdainful affairs--and so far it has not worked. I lie here wiring while watching the flames consume the wood in a deceitful manner, and I feel as if he is here holding me close and comforting me, whispering in my ear that everything will be fine. It feels so real to me, nevertheless when I look up, expecting to see his handsome face, I see nothing but horrible blackness.
I laugh because I have hardly written about him and yet I must leave you, for I have a long journey to make on the morrow and I must get adequate sleep to night.
A/N: Please review and tell me if you think Kristine is in love...
Thanks so much,