Hey there readers, and welcome to the thirteenth chapter
in the romantic series "Weaving a Romance" -- by your
friendly author, Ali! Thanks for all the comments so
far that I have received :) Please keep any feedback
coming, I try to respond as fast as I can!
In this chapter we find out where Bruce was --
if he didn't go back to the gazebo when he left Serena
in the gardens, where did he go? The answer -- and the
reasons why -- may surprise you! Plus -- Darien tries
his hand at cooking, with disastrous results, and one
of the Inner Princesses figures out Serena's secret.
The picnic is happening next chapter...this one was
long enough as it is. Please, enjoy Chapter 13, and
direct all comments toward slrunico@aol.com! Yay!
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
"Weaving a Romance"
CHAPTER 13: Suspicious Smoke Signals
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
My dear Angeline,
Darling,
Dear Lin,
Dear Angeline,
My Angel,
Prince Bruce angrily crumpled up the piece of paper
and tossed it into the wastebasket next to the desk --
where it joined the thirty other rejections. "It's no
use," he sighed, cradling his head in his hands. "It's
just no use...why can't I think of something to say to
her, you'd think she'd be the easiest person for me to
talk to, and now I can't even start the heading off
correctly."
He looked out the window and found to his astonishment
that it was just past dawn. "I stayed up all night?" the
young man asked in disbelief. "I stayed up all night," he
then repeated, breaking off into a pitiful moan.
How many hours had it been since he had said goodnight
to Serena? He tried to count them in his head, but it
was all suddenly too confusing. Must have sleep, he
thought, rising from the desk and going to lay on the
oh-so-soft-and-comfortable bed.
Bruce didn't even bother to take off his shoes, he
just lay there, staring up at the ceiling.
"That's funny," he mumbled to himself, "I never
noticed Angeline up there before..."
His eyes created the illusion of the profile of the
woman he loved in the lines of the plaster, and it took a
great deal of blinking to make the face go away.
Everything was reminding him of Angeline lately.
Even the girl he was betrothed to.
Serena had been showing him some of the different
kinds of flowers out in the royal gardens the night before,
and -- God, all it had taken was just a slight tilt of
her head, with the starlight aiming in the right direction,
and suddenly it was Angeline talking to him and not the
Moon Princess. The feeling had been so overwhelming
that it had driven him from the gardens, muttering an
apology and an excuse that the pollen was getting to him.
His eyes had actually started to well up with tears.
Thank God Serena hadn't of seen, or she would come
to think that he had feelings for her.
Which I had better have soon, he thought drunkenly,
or my marriage to her is not going to be terribly fun.
How could it be so impossible to drive Angeline from
his mind?
Was this some kind of way his subconscious had of
making him feel as if had not chosen the path he should have?
"No," Bruce said aloud. "No, I made the right
decision, I know that I did. It'll just take a little time..."
Sure, the voice in his head jeered. That's why you
ran away from Serena like a little coward, and up to
your room to write a letter of apology to the one you
truly love...you're just a coward, Bruce...just a coward...
The little voice had been speaking out of turn for
months now, and it was becoming an annoyance. It clamored
when his mother first reminded him of the betrothal.
It screamed as he wrote that first letter to Angeline
and left it in her room for her to find when she returned
and he was not there. It said "I told you so" when
Serena fainted dead away before his eyes that first day
he arrived. And it whined almost every moment afterward.
Bruce had come to think that he was pretty good at
blocking the noise his conscious made.
But really, it was only becoming harder to shut out.
Whereas there were several different chefs available at
all hours of the day in the kitchen of the Moon Palace,
things in the castle on Earth worked a little differently.
There was one head chef, who was really only called on
to cook when there was a special dinner to be had. Then
he would bring in many attendants and they would all set
to work.
Most of the time, however, there was nothing special
planned, and therefore, rarely anyone in the kitchen.
Just before meals a few maids came in...threw together
something in a jiff. Then after the serving and the
cleaning they were off on their merry way. It never took
more than an hour's preparation.
So, as Darien sat at the kitchen counter, thinking
on what to make for the picnic, it was not having the run
of the place that was the problem -- he did have that.
He could do whatever he pleased in the hours before lunch.
No one was likely to bother him.
What was the problem, was the cooking part.
Prince Darien had been raised to think that a man
should never find himself in a situation that required
more than tearing flesh of an animal bone and slapping
it between two slices of bread. Messy, but adequate.
Women and trained chefs were the ones who pitter pattered
around in the kitchen, rifling through recipes, chopping
up things and measuring with odd contraptions. Even his
mother, the queen, was known to prepare a few meals of her
own once and awhile. Good meals.
But Darien was his father's son. He followed Aaron's
example of scorning such delicate matters as numbered cups
and spoons and powders with such strange names as "ginger"
and "cummyroot." In the end there was always a similar
product -- an edible meal...and the means to that particular
end did not matter to the male diners eating them. Let the
women worry over whether too much of this or that had been
added to the strange concoction. It was all the same.
Princess Lita of Jupiter's meal last night reminded
him that sometimes food can go wrong...and "too much of
this or that" -- or not enough, in some cases -- could make
a good deal of difference. Princess Lita had even been
talking to them at the gazebo the night before about how
she was certain she added a "pinch" more than needed of
something called "cayenne powder" and that was why her
dish had been so spicy.
If just a small amount mattered that much, Darien
figured he was in waaay over his head on this cooking thing.
Hell, he didn't even know what a cayenne was, let
alone how to grind it into powder.
His pride backed up his lack of culinary experience
as an obstacle between himself and the perfect picnic.
There was no way he would dare to ask someone more
knowledgeable in the kitchen to help out. And he had
already told Serena that he could do the whole thing alone.
No, if he was going to make something, Darien was
going to do it on his own, and that was the end of it.
There was a cookbook laying out on the counter, and
Darien began to thumb through it. After all, he thought
as he eyed one of the pictures, if women can cook, why
can't princes? It can't be *that* hard...
"Do you smell something burning?"
Jedite looked up from a document he was reading to
stare at the annoyance known as Zoicite, who had just
barged into the study in his usual, noisy fashion. "I
can't say I do," Jedite replied smoothly, in his best
"don't-ask-me-anymore-questions-and-shut-the-door-on-your
-way-out" voice.
"Well I do." Zoicite plopped into the armchair
opposite Jedite's desk and proceeded to pick up a
paperweight laying there. "Say now, this looks nice...
Where did you --"
Jedite grabbed the bronze horseman from the other
general and put it back down in it's proper place.
"Gift from the Ambassador to the Carplian Islands.
Two years ago."
"That's nice. Why'd he give it to you?"
"For my services at the Battle of Teron River," Jedite
responded through gritted teeth. "Have I answered all
your questions now? If so then please do me the grand
favor of leaving...I have a whole stack of papers just
like this one I'm holding right now to get through by
lunchtime, and I am in no mood to pass my valuble time
chatting with you."
"But what about the burning?" Zoicite wrinkled his
nose. "That was why I came in here to begin with. I wanted
to ask you if you could smell it."
"Well I don't smell anything."
Zoicite sniffed. "I should have known. I do believe I
have a more delicate sense of smell than you. My nose has
always been more keen --"
"Go search the castle for the source then, and leave me
alone." Jedite was quickly losing what little patience he had.
"I can't very well search the whole place by myself. I
wanted you to come along. In my weakened condition --"
"What weakened condition?"
"I caught a chill this morning." Zoicite raised a hand to
his forehead. "It could have become a fever. Therefore I am in
no state to go wandering around the castle looking for the fire."
"What do you want *me* to do about it then?"
Zoicite stared at him blankly, as if the answer was obvious.
Immediatly, Jedite shook his head and went back to his work.
"NO, Zoicite. I'm too busy, which I just finished explaining to
you two minutes ago. Ask Neflite."
"He and Malachite are fencing."
"Darien, then."
"Can't find him."
A low growling noise came from Jedite's throat, and
Zoicite suddenly jumped up from the chair. "I'm leaving,
I'm leaving," the strawberry blonde said smartly, as he
headed out the door. "But when we all go up in flames and
the newspapers blame our deaths on a mysterious fire, we'll
all know who COULD have prevented it --"
"ZOICITE! Take your damned nose whatever and --"
Suddenly Neflite popped his head into the room.
"Darien's practically burnt down the kitchen!" he exclaimed
before running back down the hall.
"I *knew* it!" Zoicite cried.
Jedite threw down his pen and started banging his
head against the desk. "Damnit, am I to find no peace!?"
Zoicite stuck out his tongue. "See? The matter could
have just been resolved if --"
He never had a chance to finish his sentence. He was
too busy bolting from the room, in an effort to escape what
was commonly known as "The Rath of Jedite."
"What becomes of the brooooooken-hearted...."
"Check."
"Who had love that's now depaaaaarted..."
"I didn't think the little castle could do that
could do that."
"Trust me. It's a rook, and it can."
"What's a four-letter word that...oh wait,
never mind. I got it..."
"Da de da...I know I've got to find, some kind of
peeeace of mind..."
"MINA!!!"
Mina dropped the branch she was singing into and
stared the chess-players. "What!?"
"It's impossible to concentrate --" Raye began, at
the same time as Lita growled, "It's YOUR fault I'm in
check right now, Mina."
"How about a sixteen letter...oh...never mind about
that one too."
The lazy hours before lunch found the Inner
Princesses gathered together at the gazebo. Lita and
Raye were at the small center table, perfecting their
chess skills. A few feet away, Amy was laying on a
side bench in a rather un-princess-like manner,
engrossed in her latest word puzzle book. She
occasionally surfaced to ask questions, which she always
figured out the answers to mid-sentence anyway. Mina had
started out watching the game, then very quickly lost
interest...opting instead to grab a fallen tree branch
from the floor that would serve as a pretend microphone.
Two seconds later she had begun to belt out old ballads,
the volume of which increased with each stanza.
"How am I going to become a famous singing star if
you guys won't let me practice!?" Mina demanded. She
picked her "microphone" back up and shook it at Lita.
"It's really rude. I didn't try to interrupt your game,
but you stopped me on PURPOSE." She sniffed. "Besides.
If you were nicer to me, Lita, I would tell you how to
get out of check. But since you're being mean, I think
I'll just keep my hint to myself."
Lita mumbled something about the validity of Mina's
"hints" under her breath.
"You could try practicing somewhere OTHER than the
gazebo," Amy suggested helpfully.
"See??" Lita bellowed accusingly. "You're even
annoying Amy."
Amy declined comment and went back to her word
puzzle. "Maybe you could find Serena and she could
listen to you for a while," the princess of Mercury
stated softly, drawing a delicate pencil line through
a word she had already found.
Raye perked up her ears at this. Throughout the
argument she had been plotting her next move that would
ensure a checkmate. But the mention of their pig-tailed
friend warrented further questioning. "Where is Serena,
by the way?"
"I'm sure she's out with Bruce somewhere..." Mina
declared, eyebrows waggling.
Lita exchanged a knowing glance with Raye. "They
sure were out a long time in the gardens."
"They didn't even come for dessert," Mina added.
"And you know how Serena LOVES dessert. It stands to
reason then, that there must have been something going
on in the gardens more...delicious...than Mercurial fruit
cakes."
"Mina!" gasped Amy. A fierce blush settled on her
face as she rose to a sitting position. "That's simply --"
"True! You know it's true, Amy, we all know it's
true! Who wouldn't fall for a hunk like Prince Bruce of
Lerence anyway!?" Mina began to count on her fingers.
"He's got looks, brains, muscles, charm, great legs --"
"Kissable lips," Lita remarked.
"Exactly!" Mina cheered, and the two struck a
high-five, the argument of a few moments before long forgotten.
"I don't believe I'm hearing this conversation,"
Amy muttered, hugging her book to her chest protectively.
"Neither can I," Raye amended, eyes flashing dangerous
as fire. "Don't any of you think that if there was
something going on between Serena and Bruce Serena would
let us know? She's never kept anything that important
from us before."
"All she ever wants to talk about lately is how much
she hates Prince Darien of Earth," the Venusian princess
shrugged. "That's just boring. And it's prolly a cover
up, too...so she doesn't get all mushy talking about Bruce.
The thing with the Earth prince gives her something else
to talk about, to make us think that she's not as gone for
Bruce as she really must be."
"Mina, that made no sense," Amy muttered, returning
to her word book.
Raye spoke again. "It doesn't strike anyone as odd, though?"
"What do you mean, Raye?" Lita asked.
Raye chose her next words carefully. "I just don't
think that Serena and Bruce are that much in love."
The others gaped at her. "Not in love?"
"How could he not be in love with her?" Lita demanded.
"Never mind that, how could SHE not be in love with
HIM!?" Mina exclaimed. "Raye, have you taken a LOOK at that
body --"
"Love isn't about bodies, Mina," Raye argued.
"Not for Serena, it isn't. Serena is the type of girl
that wants more than that. At least, that's what I've
always thought. If and when she falls, it'll be for a
man who matches her soul. Who makes her feel complete.
You know?"
"You've never been one to talk about this kinda
stuff," Lita said suspiciously.
Actually, Raye didn't believe a word. She wasn't
much for the romance factor. She personally believed
that most of the kissing going on at court had more to
do with appearances and the physical rather than the
emotional. "Yeah, I know. But...again, it isn't about
me. It's about Serena, and what she wants."
"Personally, I do think that she and Bruce have
matched souls." Lita began to tick the reasons off on her
fingers. "They grew up together, spent a lot of time
with one another when they were little. They seem to
share the same opinions, and they look good together.
Not just their faces and frames, but their dispositions.
Really, Raye, they do seem to fit."
"That's just on the outside," Raye sighed. "Look,
there's really no way to make you understand the way I
think on this issue. Except to say that I don't think
she loves him."
"This is *Serena* we're talking about here," Mina
reprimanded. "Do you think she would take marrying a
man she didn't love lying down?"
"Not our Serena," Lita continued, backing up her
friend. "Especially if there was someone she cared for
on the side -- that's not what you think, is it, Raye?
You don't think that she's...in love with another man?
Do you?"
"Who else IS there?" Mina quipped. "There's only
one eligible bachelor roaming around the castle lately,
and without mentioning any names Prince Darien
I think it's safe to say that Serena's in the clear there."
At this, Mina and Lita, even Amy, shared a cheery
giggle. No one noticed Raye's eyebrows shoot up to the
middle of her forehead, in a sudden moment of inspiration.
No one saw the wheels in her eyes turning and spitting
balls of fire in violet hues, as she worked the pieces
of the puzzle together...one after another... The
longer she worked, and the more they laughed, it became
obvious that there was something amiss...something VERY
amiss...
"Speak of the devil," Mina was saying, and everyone
stood up to wave at the Moon Princess, who was passing
by the gazebo.
"Serena, we were just talking about you!" Lita cheered.
Serena stopped by the rail and peered up at her friends.
"Good morning...what about me?"
"About you and Bruce." Mina grinned. "Raye here
was just saying that she doesn't believe the two of you
are in love."
"Oh Raye." Serenity's daughter gazed up at her
best friend, with laughter in her eyes. "You're partly
right, Bruce and I aren't quite...at that stage yet.
But, we do grow fonder of one another more as each day
passes. I do...look forward to spending the rest of my
life with him." She smiled, as if hesitant to reveal a
secret. "Truly. I couldn't be happier."
Raye barely acknowledged this with an "mmm hmm..."
Mina began babbling again. "We haven't had a
sleepover in a while lately. I say we have one -- tonight.
So you can tell us all the gossip about the wedding and
the prince and all of that."
"The prince? Oh, Bruce you mean. Of course."
Serena, obviously on her way to some kind of
meeting, offered one last smile, and hurried off.
In her rush, she missed seeing Raye's face...how
shocked it was when the final puzzle piece had fallen
into place.
Two people on their way to a secret picnic.
One left her friends giggling at a gazebo.
The other left behind, among other things, a smoking
stove, messy kitchen, four laughing friends, and three
fussing maids. Not to mention a castle in a state of shock
and flurry of activity, as the gossip worked it's way up
and down the social ladder.
Prince Darien had been caught trying to make chicken
tetrazzini, flat bread with tomato pesto, green salad, and
chocolate mousse pie...all by himself. Without even the
aid of someone more experienced in the kitchen.
What was more...according to some affluent sources,
he was making it to eat -- with someone else.
Of course, no one knew just how this kind of juicy
information got around. But they were more than willing
to share it with a lended ear.
The generals, as usual, were probably the cause.
When you get right down to it, anyway. Twenty minutes
after Darien had made his departure, his best friends were
still yuking it up in the all-but-destroyed kitchen.
"Cook? Darien? Cook?" Jedite pointed at a pile of
dishes, several of which had been broken during the frenzy
to put out the fire in the oven. "There should be a law
banning the two words together in the same sentence."
"After this morning there probably WILL be a law,"
Zoicite countered, dusting his hands off to properly
display his contempt for the situation. "Did you see
how unkempt he looked? There was colored powder in his
hair, and the black streaks from the wood oven on his
face... I don't know who got the worst of it. The kitchen,
or Darien himself."
"When I saw the mess I just about died... One has to
wonder how he managed to get so much of that white stuff
everywhere." Malachite wiped a finger over the powdered
counter, and then sniffed the residue with an upturned
nose.
Neflite held up a yellow tin. "I believe it's this
stuff here."
"What does it say on the side?"
"Something like 'flour'..."
The men looked at each other, and then burst into
another round of laughter. "The whole thing just sounds
so feminine!" Jedite gasped for air. "I just don't
understand...why would he go and do that?"
"I have a few theories," Zoicite suggested.
"Let's hear them, then. We'll never get the truth
out of ole' Darien. Did you see how mad he was when he
left?"
"The look on his face just about killed me all over
again," Malachite chuckled.
Zoicite waved his hand in the air for silence.
"Theory 1: He's gone insane."
"That's my vote," Neflite declared.
"Theory 2: Someone made a bet with him that he
couldn't...cook...or...something..."
"Nah. Darien would never make a bet with someone
who would want to do that kind of thing."
"Unless it was the Moon Princess." Jedite nodded
his head. "That could have done it. All she'd have to
do is just hint that there's something he *can't* do...
something embarrassing, like cooking."
"Is there a third theory, Zoicite?"
"Oh yeah." Zoicite cleared his throat. "My own
personal favorite: Theory 3 -- He promised some girl he
would make a lunch for her."
"It must be the girl that's got him so worked up."
Neflite snapped his fingers. "I wonder who it is?"
"Must be some broad then," Jedite enthused. "Some
damn fine broad..."
At that remark, the head-maid, Bertha, appeared in
the doorway. Her look was one of a major at war, gazing
upon a looted battlefield. Her weapons were a mop and
dust rag. Her troops were made up of three wide-eyed
kitchen girls. And her battle cry: "All ye, out of the
vicinity at once. Cleaning to be done, yes."
The generals, not really used to being handed orders,
were slow to move and quick to protest...until Bertha
decided to stress herself in a more forceful manner.
"OUCH! HEY! Stop hitting me with that thing!!!"
"I'll have you know -- HEY -- ma'am, that we're
members of the court!!"
"An' I a member of th' royal cleaning crewe...OUT!"
Bertha gave the squawking Jedite one more thump on the
head with the broomstick...then, after a thought,
clobbered Zoicite again for good measure.
The great and mighty generals of the Earth were
thus defeated by an army of cleaning maids, and forced
to retreat into their study...where they would sulk
until Darien came home that evening.
~~~END OF CHAPTER 13~~~
Just a few ending comments. The cooking terms used
are all real, there really is something called
chocolate mousse pie, cayenne powder, ginger, flat
bread with tomoto pesto...the only thing I made up
is cummyroot, simply because I thought it sounded
like a cute kind of spice name.
The song that Mina is singing is Jimmy Ruffin's hit,
"What Becomes of the Broken-Hearted"...I thought it
might be some nice foreshadowing...whoops, is that
giving too much away?
There are so many fics that focus on Serena's
inability to cook, and I thought, wouldn't it be
kinda cute to put Darien in that situation?
During this time period, kings and princes were
not known to cook for themselves. Yet Darien is
willing to give it a shot to give Serena a special
treat. ::snicker::
COMING NEXT TIME: Darien and Serena meet for their
picnic; Raye plans her next move, (and we don't
mean a chess move either...) and another secret
meeting is planned.
E-mail comments to slrunico@aol.com! I need
to know lotsa stuff, such as how I am doing with
character development, and how I am depicting the
romance between Serena and Darien.
~~~Ali~~~
P.S. As always, look for the latest chapters at my
little web site: Sailor Unico's Fan Fiction Hide-Out!
http://members.aol.com/jlcavazos/index.html
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geocities.com/tokyo/courtyard) (
geocities.com/tokyo)