Blame Aphrodite - SAMPLE-

Green Pinstripes

With my legs folded over the armrest of the rickety old chair, I flipped through the pages of a poetry book. It was a random one that I had brought with me from home, one that I had to sneak past my father. He hated that I read and never ceased to let me know.

There was something different about poetry. While they both cover an entire story, poetry does it in a short series of lines whereas stories need chapter after chapter to get the point across. With the shorter lines, poetry has to use words in a way to makes you really feel something. To me, all the emotions make the reading much more worthwhile.

I always had a fascination with poetry. Since I was young. My mother always read them to me before putting me to sleep and I carried that with me all through my life. I always read before bed.

But not much anymore. My father had confiscated nearly all of my books. Poetry, fiction, biography, all of them, no matter the genre, were confiscated and replaced with books he deemed to be acceptable. That included books on war strategy and the occasional auto-biography of a certain general.

While it made getting to sleep that night easy, they were boring. There was no emotion, no storyline, and no characters to get attached to. There was nothing.

Since I had been prohibited from reading anything that would interest me, I had resorted to hiding my material from my father, which was not an easy task when he had someone keep an eye on me all the time.

However, I had started to train Peter just fine. Even while he was under my father's employment, he started to learn who was actually worth siding with. Well, I suppose it was less who to side with and more who to cover for. Peter soon realized after he was hired that I couldn't be stopped.

"If your father sees you with that book in your hand, you'll be in big trouble," Peter said, entering my tent with a large box in his hands. "But do you care? No," He said, closing the flap behind him.

"It's Lord Byron's 'She Walks in Beauty'," I said, closing the book and setting it aside. "Did you pick up my suit?"

"Yes, and I had a very nice chat with Flora. She's very sweet. A little crude but sweet nonetheless."

"That she is," I said taking the box from him. I sat it down on my little table and opened it up.

Wow, she pulled through with the bright colors. Today was the day I was going to be meeting with the generals to announce my 'brilliant plan'. To say I was nervous would be an understatement. At least the suit would give them something else to focus on. Maybe the suit would be too eye-catching that they wouldn't be able to comprehend my plan.

Not that my plans were comprehensible to begin with. Either way, I was nervous.

The only thing that was getting me through this meeting was the promised look of concern on my father's face when he caught sight of me in this suit. Then afterward, I get to look forward to taking Valencia her new dress.

Even in a time crunch, the old seamstress was able to create something so beautiful and simple. I had given her creative freedom when it came to Valencia's dress and she delivered. It was a pale pink satin dress that would drape over Valencia's figure perfectly.

"Sir, your father said the meeting will start soon. You should start getting ready." Peter said, glancing at his watch. Finally, he caught sight of the suit I was holding up in front of him. Never had I seen his eyes so big. "Please tell me that you aren't possibly wearing that to this very important meeting with the generals."

I cracked a smile at my puffy friend.

"It's surely to get their attention. What do you think?" I asked, holding the bright orange waistcoat up to my body. "It pairs nicely with the crimson undervest, don't you agree?"