Dancing with Deception

Dancing with Deception (3)

So I'm trying to make this story more authentic to the time period and I'm wondering if the fancy language adds to the feel or if it's too difficult to understand, what do you think?

Comment and Vote?

Cheers,

xo.

***************************************************

Chapter 3 – A Costly Mistake

“Oww!”

He dropped my wrist to cup his rapidly reddening cheek, a look of complete shock on his face.

“So sorry, my hand slipped.” I replied casually, barely managing to keep the grin off my face at his dumbfounded expression.

“Is that so?” He asked in disbelief.

“These things happen,” I said, waving my hand in the air to brush off the incident. I had a feeling it was a common occurrence where he was concerned.

“The least you could do is kiss it better.”

Heaven’s above, he just didn’t know when to give up.

“Shall I show you how it’s done?” He took a step towards me and I stumbled back as he laughed at my expression of horror.

I rearranged my features to an expression of contempt and placed a hand on my hip. “Clearly you fail to grasp the concept of ‘I despise you.’”

He walked towards me once more, but this time I stood my ground, refusing to let him have the upper hand. “Oh I understand perfectly, I’m just determined to change your mind,” he said shamelessly, twirling a lock of my hair around his finger.

“Alexander?”

The stable boy jumped away from me with a start, and I was pleased to notice that for once he looked abashed.

A woman stood before us, dressed in a pair of fitted silk breeches and a tunic that tied down the front until the waist and fell to knees in a way that looked almost dressy. The scabbard hanging from her waist was a curious sight, until I saw the gleaming band of twisted gold resting on her head.

That was her? Queen Celia?

I could have died right there, would she think me some kind of harlot for being in the company of a commoner? Our position had been far from compromising, but the way he jumped back spoke of guilt regardless.

Immediately I dropped into a low curtsey.

She wasn't at all what I expected, with her dark brown curls falling softly around her face and the cheerful sparkle in her blue eyes that complemented the slight upturn of her lips in a half smile. Then again, after listening to my mother for the last fifteen years I had expected nothing less than a hag.