Six - Wants And Needs

RPOV

The sky was beautifully dark as I stepped out of the delicate carriage that had picked me up from Fairston Academy. Its blue-black hue seemed like the depths of the ocean at nightfall—frightening yet captivating. I struggled bringing my loaded, leather tote into the manor when a royal messenger suddenly appeared.

I nearly jumped out of my dress as he walked up to me. The fellow appeared slight and awkward in his commoner clothes, his skin very pale and his eyes and nose too big for his face. He looked very goofy and young, however I put on a smile and ridded my judgments.

"May I help you, sir?" I wondered kindly.

The royal messenger bowed, displaying a black satin hat. "Good evening, Miss Mazur," he greeted respectfully, his voice fairly high. He moved his small hands from behind his back and gave me something that resembled a package. "I've been sent by Prince Adrian to deliver this gift to you," he explained.

My eyebrows rose in curious interest. The package felt fine and fragile in my grip, delicate almost. I wondered what Prince Adrian could've possibly given me. Jewelry, a dress, flowers, perfume, lingerie? Anything even remotely romantic?

After staring at my mail for several, silent moments, I realized that the royal messenger was still standing before me. When I brought my gaze to him, an awkward look crossed his face. "Thank you so much," I said, smiling. The fellow nodded quickly then sped away on the cobblestone road, disappearing into the darkening day.

I went inside the manor and carried my things up the wrought, iron staircase. When I reached the top, Rhea was waiting in a lavender gown, her gnarling hands on her slender hips. She eyed my package suspiciously as I walked by, and soon after, I heard her following me into my bedchamber.

I turned around after setting down my tote and package. "Is something the matter?" I asked.

My stepmother crossed her arms. Her jade-green eyes were hard. "Where'd you get that, and who gave it to you?" she demanded, sounding very unhappy. I wanted to roll my eyes at her tone. Why'd she have to make what only pertained to me her business? It was increasingly annoying and very unnecessary.

In a mature tone, I simply replied, "Prince Adrian."

Rhea's bright eyes bugged out of her head. Then, quite angrily, she charged over to my bed and snatched the package, ripping the pretty paper to discover what lay inside. I gasped and rushed over to her, trying to take it back. Yet, my stepmother shoved me out of the way and ferociously continued.

"Stop it!" I shouted, tears brimming in my eyes. "Take your hands off my gift." Rhea ignored me, and after a few moments, she had the package open and yanked out whatever was inside. Her eyes were flaming as she glared at the objects in her pale hands.

"Prince Adrian gave you red roses and a note?" she sneered, her face twisting into a feral grin as she glared at my gift. Rhea threw them on the hardwood floor then demanded my attention as I hurriedly picked them up and clutched them to my chest. "What made him send you that and why? He just came back to England. He hasn't met any maiden yet."

I swallowed deeply, a burn permeating my throat. "He came to school today and talked to me during lunch. He…invited me over for dinner the night before his party and apparently, he decided to send me a gift to be sweet," I answered, averting my gaze.

Rhea suddenly kicked my mahogany door. She cursed loudly and ran her hands through her platinum-blond hair, tresses that Vasilisa inherited. "You're not going to that dinner and you're going to return that gift Prince Adrian sent you," she ordered, pointing a thin finger at the roses and note.

I shook my head, not wanting to obey this time. "No. You can't make me. I accepted his invitation and I'm keeping this gift," I countered strongly. By this point, I was looking at my stepmother. Her lavender gown blended into the walls of my bedchamber while my sapphire-blue dress starkly contrasted.

Her jade-green eyes darkened at my challenge, and Rhea spat, "Oh really? Well, I'll see what your father thinks about all of this." She marched out and slammed the door behind her—I could hear her heels clicking against the floors. I paced like a caged animal until Rhea reappeared with Father trailing behind her.

His chestnut-brown eyes met mine. "Rosemarie, what's going on?" he began.

I sighed. This was all suddenly so exhausting. I then explained, "She's upset that Prince Adrian invited me to have dinner with his family the night before his party. And, she doesn't like that he sent me a present." Father narrowed his dark gaze as he noticed the roses and note clutched to my chest.

He walked over to me, staring from above as he towered over my head. Father wasn't exceedingly tall, yet he was definitely over six feet, so he seemed intimidating, especially with his thick goatee and penetrating eyes. In a stern voice, he chastised, "Rosemarie, what did I tell you about Prince Adrian? He has a scandalous background, and you've no business getting involved with him."

I couldn't help but pout. "But Father—"

"No, I won't hear it. Like Rhea said, you're not going to that dinner and you're returning those gifts, whether you like it or not," he finalized, giving no room for argument. Rhea smirked triumphantly from behind him, sending me a wicked, green glare. Father gestured at my unwrapped presents. "Put that package together, then send it back. Despite my warning, I'll allow you to go to Prince Adrian's party. However, the dinner and gifts are too much."

I nodded in sad reluctance, collapsing onto my bed as Father and Rhea gave me one last look before exiting my bedchamber. It felt so great to finally have some silence. My mind was rampaging from everything that had just happened—I was so sick and tired of hearing how Prince Adrian was so bad.

What did Father know, anyway?

Wanting to kill those thoughts, I unfolded my arms and released the roses while keeping the note in my grasp. Opening the piece of paper, I held my breath as I read the inky words written by Prince Adrian.

Dear Little Rose,

From only one look, I was captivated. Your beauty amazes me each time I see your precious eyes, flawless skin, and supple lips. There is no doubt that you're the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in all of my twenty one years. As a gift, I give you six red roses to represent love at first sight.

I know this may seem a bit much, but I would really love to get to know you more. You're not like other girls. You'll never be like other girls.

I hope you enjoy this present, and I cannot wait for you to have dinner with me and my family. When the party comes, I'll definitely save a special dance for none other than you.

With all my heart,

Prince Adrian Ivashkov

I read the note over and over again. My eyes gave time to each magnificent, black word from beginning to end. I smelled the glorious roses. My heart swelled in my chest. My stomach seemed to flutter with butterflies. He really cared about me and wanted to be with me. He seriously felt that I, Rosemarie Mazur, was the girl of his dreams.

All I could see were Prince Adrian's emerald-green eyes. His defined cheekbones and nose. His styled, brown hair. His lean, lightly tanned body. His charm, his slight arrogance, everything. What if I actually became Princess Rosemarie Ivashkov of England? I'd have a whole, new life of wonders and privileges. I'd have authority over my stepfamily and Father. I'd bear male heirs to the throne.

It all sounded so magnificent…

"Rosemarie," said a feminine voice. I stopped staring at the note and was surprised to see Vasilisa in my doorway, her pale blond hair falling around her face like a dead curtain. She seemed exhausted and tortured, as if she had been sitting in a dark chamber losing her mind. Slight, dark circles hung under her eyes. Her skin was paler than usual.

Becoming worried, I rushed over to her and softly asked, "Are you all right?" Vasilisa released a heavy sigh and came in, only to close the door and slide down to the floor. Her black dress pooled around her. I'd never seen her wear black—she was probably in a dark mood.

My stepsister didn't speak for several moments. Silence hung in the atmosphere, tense and thick. I twiddled my thumbs until Vasilisa finally said in a low voice, "Do you think…do you think Christian will forgive me for the things I said?"

I was drawn to a blank. Had she seriously been torturing herself about what she had done all this time? Had she been driving herself insane with guilt and self-hate and remorse for nearly two days?

I tried to come up with an excellent response, yet I could only shrug. "I don't know. I kind of doubt it, though. I don't think Christian's going to give you a chance. I think he's extremely upset and doesn't want anything to do with you," I replied, nearly cringing at how harsh those words sounded.

Vasilisa flinched in actual pain, barely able to handle my answer. I studied her for a long time until she finally closed her eyes and said even lower, "Thank you. That was all I needed to hear." My stepsister stood up and left my bedchamber without another word.

The last thing I saw was her black dress.

It was immensely dark while I rode in the pitch-black night. Thousands of stars twinkled brightly in the sky as the silver moon illuminated the cobblestoned and dirt roads. Silhouettes of sturdy trees overlapped in the forests while shadows depicted creatures birthed by imagination.

My horse huffed giant breaths as his hooves pounded against the earth. Semi-dark mane flew in the slapping air and slightly blinded my vision. I wasn't headed anywhere in particular—I just wanted to get away from home and clear my mind. So many thoughts swirled in a mental tornado.

Rhea. Father. Prince Adrian. Vasilisa.

I needed to document it all and free it from my head. I brought my journal, the red velvet material somewhat visible underneath my satin cloak. The gold key was hidden in my boots.

I usually didn't ride my horse this late, since night was a dangerous time for traveling by foot or animal. However, it was urgent and I'd had to basically lie to Father and Rhea to leave the manor, especially when school was tomorrow.

It took a while before I came to a location I was satisfied with. It was deep within the forestry, and all I could witness were shades of black and green. I tied my horse to a thick, looming tree, using a spare blanket to keep him warm. He neighed in fright as I moved away, yet I calmed him with soothing noises.

I found a place to sit against a different tree. I leaned into the trunk and put my legs closer to my chest. Taking out the journal and placing it in my bent lap, I turned to a blank page and pressed my trusty quill to its whiteness.

September 30th, 1685

Father and Rhea are prohibiting me from having dinner at the royal palace with Prince Adrian and his family. How could they be so cruel and refuse that I should have a good time enjoying myself with a young man who cares about me?

I cannot believe Father thinks Prince Adrian is some superficial bastard who only cares about riches, women, drugs, and alcohol. While he does take notice of the prettier girls, I think he has shown that he has the ability to be deep and substantial behind his intentions.

Also, Rhea threw a fit because she does not like that the prince has paid more attention to me than to Vasilisa and Jillian. Her behavior was out of line this evening, but I suppose I can overlook that.

Prince Adrian's gifts were absolutely wonderful. I usually did not like receiving rose-related things, yet when it was with a special purpose and given by a special person, I loved it. The roses smelled and looked lovely. The note was beautiful…I cannot wait to see him soon.

Vasilisa coming to me to talk about Christian forgiving her was strange. Does she really care about what he thinks of her? Does she wholeheartedly want to make amends? I guess I will never know, but hopefully, there can be some settlement.

Until next time,

Rosemarie Mazur

I released a heavy breath after furiously writing. My body felt relieved, and a weight seemed as if it had been lifted off my shoulders. There was nothing more I wanted to do now but go home and sleep in my comfortable, warm bed.

Groaning, I got up and walked over to my horse, who whinnied gratefully at the sight of me. I untied the rope then kissed his large muzzle before mounting, securing my journal, key, and quill in their respective places. Clicking my tongue and tugging on the reins, I directed my horse out of the forest and onto the road.

If it was even possible, the sky seemed even darker than before. I had to strain my eyes to make out silhouettes and have my horse trot instead of gallop. It made me wish that I had never left home in the first place, yet I would've never been able to clear my head.

It was a long while until I finally reached the manor. I took my horse to the stables on our property as quietly as I could before rushing to the back entrance and slipping inside.

The manor was much lighter than outside. Lamps burned candle wax on the vintage walls, illuminating hallways with orange-yellow fire as the crystal chandeliers shimmered in dimness. I tiptoed in my leather boots, trying to keep quiet, clutching my cloak so it wouldn't whoosh in the air. My bedchamber door came into view and I hurried to get to it.

Successfully, I reached my room and rushed inside, shutting the door softly behind me. I couldn't believe I made it back unnoticed, but considering how late it was, everyone should be in bed and asleep.

I removed my cloak, sapphire-blue dress, petticoat, and black brassiere. I went to my drawer and took out a long-sleeved, white nightgown to slip on. I combed my loose hair then crawled into bed.

Sleep welcomed me.

APOV

The awkward, royal messenger came bumbling into my private study as I was pouring myself a glass of Russian vodka. It was incredibly strong liquor, but years of consumption allowed me to be more tolerant. I leaned back into a fine, leather chair and started sipping. The familiar burn rushed down my throat.

"Prince Adrian, I delivered the presents to Miss Rosemarie Mazur," he shyly informed. The guy looked small in his uniform, and I was sure Rosemarie had thought the same thing when he had appeared at Mazur Manor with the package.

Waving him away, I simply replied, "Thanks. You can go now." The messenger obeyed without question and fled my private study, as if I was about to kill him. He was really annoying with his jittery behavior, yet I knew he was a nice and decent guy.

Once I was alone, I thought about the dark-haired beauty I had met at Fairston Academy, that prestigious school for children of prominent families. It was specifically built for that reason—keeping poorer people out. The school reminded me of how I was never really one for education.

Being the son of a king was a pain in the arse, sometimes. I had been forced to be taught by a private, paid instructor who gave me exclusive lessons that were boring and ridiculous. Tell me, young prince, what is the political structure of each European empire?

Those sorts of questions had had me skipping lessons more than once.

I had decided to attend to more princely matters, like horseback riding, archery, and swordsmanship. Not to mention, being prepared for finding a bride so I could claim the throne and rule my rightful kingdom with heirs to continue my legacy.

It was enjoyable meeting different women and having great times; however, when I had come upon Rosemarie earlier, she was like no other. First of all, she hadn't even chased me like her desperate, clingy schoolmates. She had held her ground while still being available, which I admired. Also, her features were exotic and absolutely gorgeous—I was tired of seeing the standard pale, skinny, and heavily makeup-ed girls.

I loved her soft curves. I loved her dark, long hair. I loved her golden skin. I loved her captivating eyes. I loved her kind yet tough personality. I wanted to know her more, so I'd had to make the feeling mutual by sending her those roses and that note.

I couldn't wait for her to have dinner at the palace. I couldn't wait to dance with her at my party. Hopefully, Rosemarie could even become my princess, but it might not happen because Cesarevich Dimitri of Russia had his family's annual ball after my party. Nearly every maiden in the world went to that event, and he was in more demand than I was, anyway.

His father was out of the picture. His mother couldn't keep the throne any longer. It was as simple as that.

Rosemarie was definitely going to go to the ball—all girls did. I knew I had to get her committed to me soon or she was going to fall for Belikov, and I was certain she would. Cesarevich Dimitri was older, taller, handsomer, wealthier, and had a strong Russian accent that apparently made women want to melt.

I poured some more vodka into my glass then swallowed it all at once, a vicious burn ripping through my throat.

Rosemarie Mazur needed to be mine.

And I wasn't going to stop until I had her.

******

Will Rose begin falling for Adrian?

Does Adrian genuinely want to be with Rose?

What's going on with Lissa, and will she ever make amends with Christian? Would he really forgive her?

Until next time...

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