Rejected

Chapter 15

Butchered Shakespeare ahoy. Be warned.

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Damian walked in with Lady Bea on his arm. They smiled at their usual crowd of friends as they made way into the Winsham Ladies' private sitting room. There was a good mix of women in the party so he was pleased that the gathering wasn't the slightest bit on the scandalous side; he really did not want to be lectured again.

"Not him again."

It was Cecilia who stole the words right out of her mouth. Delilah stood up to greet the Prince, slightly surprised he had appeared. His friends had each arrived at their designated timings, holding bouquets; they had looked concerned and suitably saddened but the Prince was conspicuously missing so Delilah assumed he was staying away.

"I am not to blame for this delay," Lady Beatrix announced to the room congenially, "Damian was up to something and he wouldn't tell me what."

Prince Damian handed Delilah a bouquet wrapped in silk. When she looked at it closely there were no flowers at all. What appeared to be a bouquet from the outside turned out to be a package full of candy floss.

"How did you know?" Delilah asked in surprise.

"You mentioned you were craving it, remember? I thought they would make you happy."

"Thank you! I am extremely pleased by your choice of gift," Delilah's eyes were fixed on the pink floss.

"The pleasure is all mine," Damian insisted, glad his gift was received well. The social pleasantries separated them and the conversation was lulling when Prudence's sister suddenly announced a need to have a book reading.

"The prince is a lovely reader. No one can match the clarity of his speech and his delightful expression," Charity's tone was carefully flattering without going over the top and her sister Prudence seethed a little. Isabella, Mary and Prudence were sitting in one corner, keeping Cecilia company. They were all eyeing Delilah very closely who had not even noticed their scrutiny during her conversation with Agapito Rossi.

"Indeed, the ladies were always enthralled whenever the Prince performed," Agapito smirked trying not to mock his friend about the affect he had on Ladies in the Capital. Beatrix pulled out a book from the small book shelf on the wall with little concern for the host’s privacy and grimaced when she read the print on the cover.

"Ugh, 'The magical world of herbal medicine'; I think I might drop dead just listening to the title," She announced with much exaggeration. She went through many other books but deemed them unsuitable until she found a poetry book Delilah had packed from home. The Lady flippantly opened the book and handed a random page to the Prince.

"It looks to be a sad piece," Damian uttered, looking the sonnet warily.

"No matter, you can pull it off," Lady Beatrix smirked confidently before taking her place next to him.

"I love your eyes, and they seem to pity me, knowing I'm tormented by your disdain," Damian looked up for effect. His eyes sought hers unconsciously and he swallowed. It wasn't as if Delilah was batting her eyes at him slyly or with ulterior motive; she was watching him like a dutiful audience must with nothing behind her eyes other than politeness but he felt she could look through him. Damian looked down back at the sonnets in his hand and continued with appropriate feeling.

"In black, they look like mourners at a funeral, gazing at my pain with pretty compassion. And to tell the truth, the morning sun doesn't look as good in the gray eastern sky, nor does the evening star look half as good in the western twilight, as those two mourning eyes look in your face," Damian looked back at her again. Her eyes weren't as dark as the poet's beloved but their lightness did not dispel the idea that the eyes mourned him. Those eyes felt like they could reach every inch of his pain but then Damian paused in recollection that he had no pain in his heart. Instead of feeling lighter his heart felt heavier.