Emmanuel swayed back and forth ever so slightly, rocking with the motions of his boat on the celtic sea. It had been about a fortnight since he embarked on his voyage to england. The past month had been a blur of travel; white sleeves stained by ocean waves, wet hair from sea rain, bottles of gin with his crew mates. Prince Emmanuel had been very fortunate to have a crew of sailors to assist him on his trip to and from spain. After so much time spent in new spain, he had forgotten how life was as a true prince, always having a collective of people to accomodate him.
Life in New Spain was much different to his previous monarchal life. There he was not the loving future king of spain, he was a desperately sought savior, with a million hands tugging at him to move in their direction. He started off a young man with a load of empathy telling him to fight for those people who spoke spanish in indigenous accents, dreading the way his apparent allies treated them. Then he became their friend, a sweet boy with a plan just good enough to believe in. A brave man dressed in armour for battle became an anguished child wishing to return home after all the bloodshed he had seen.
That was the day everything changed for him. The night at the fort, his army lost for the first time. After only one attempt, they were already losing. It was too late to take any of it back, it was too late to return to the obedience he gave his father. So he decided to persist, and take a leap knowing that if he fell, those children propped up on his shoulders would too.
It takes a man to lead such a life. Luckily, he was exactly that. He learned that kindness was not only found within generosity, but sacrifice of his time, resources, and money so that his people could have the simple things he was given from the beginning. So his chatter of a young lad became slow breaths of a man who spoke when spoken to, and nothing more.
The ship captain noticed his eyes had darkened in expression, and although he was much past growing, he stood a bit taller. It was five years that he had been gone. His mannerisms were different, as he learned a few things from the new spanish and a bit more from himself. He had become harder to hurt. His mother had been taken by yellow fever, and his father had not congratulated him for a single one of his accomplishments, but there he stood, calm, and sober, save for the flask he shared with his mates earlier.
They had still not yet arrived, and Emma was beginning to worry as the sun rose for another day. He saw the island at a distance, but it was still far. He had said in his letters that he would arrive in the first few days of the season; was he still on schedule?
If you were wondering who Emmanuel may have been writing too. As a prince and monarch, expect nothing less of him than to write letters to the queen of france? Did I say the queen of france? I meant a french girl who thinks shes good enough to be the queen of france, of course. One of his best friends, Belle Fleur. To this day it was a bit of an anomaly as to how they met. She had sent him a letter requesting they chat, and all of his friends told him it was a girl with a crush, or a sweet tooth for high ranking men.
Still, all that time ago, he took it upon himself to reply. As the prince; a dutiful man, he owed his devout attention to all of his subjects. Although Belle was technically not one of these people, she was still a seemingly kind lady who had complimented him in a way, therefore he returned her the same kindness. Additionally, her writing did not signal at a crush. Instead, she held an intrigue that made him desire to know her more. Since then, they had been writing to each other on and off, off when he could not respond due to the adversities that were taking much of his time to resolve.
When he concluded his phase of contribution to the war, and went to the funeral, his father told him that he would be participating in the courting season of England. His life had been very difficult for the past few years, and so he deserved the opportunity to socialize with likeminded people. To his surprise, however, one of them was his long time friend, who was also traveling for the season. After so much time imagining the way she might look, her voice, her laugh, he could finally see which of his theories were right and wrong, and know his friend the way he always hoped he could.
Around mid-day, the boat hit the sand where the docks were. It felt he had finally reached the promised land. Quickly, he asked the men at the dock what day of the season it was. He said that he had heard discourse about “calling” going on today. Without missing a beat, Emmanuel ran back to get his gifts he had prepared for the day and hopped off the edge of the surface onto the sand. His hair was messy, and his clothes were ragged as well.
“Prince Emmanuel, are you not going to retrieve your other belongings?” Asked his concerned men.
“I will retrieve them later, Morris. If you could do me the favor of gathering a few of my things, I would be forever grateful! Now if you will excuse me, I must go to the estate and speak with my friend before I go on with the rest of my callings. I will see you all tonight!” He announced proudly before going off to do exactly as he said. He had promised to visit, and Emmanuel was a man of his word. Yes, he was also responsible for his belongings, but he ran on the power of far too much passion to allow for such unnecessary formalities.
As if collecting all of his things, friends, and memories from the boat were not enough, Emmanuel was also supposed to enter the estate all dirty from sea salt, alcohol, and rain and excuse himself before seeing Belle. Was it possible he would be able to do that after just freshly seeing her for the first time?
On his way to the estate, he thought about it. He thought, and thought, and thought. Strangely, he was beginning to sense a long forgotten sensation of nervousness within himself. He worried that she would not find him as attractive as she had seen him in paintings, or that she would not be as kind as she was in the letters. All of it stressed him so much that he could think of nothing else until he knocked on that fateful door to enter her home.
Before he knew it, he was saluting Belle’s servants as he entered the home. It was similar to the way he imagined, grand, and light in color scheme. However, it felt so difficult to fathom that his fantasies of years were becoming reality in that very moment. He had walked upon the entrance feeling it amiable, then into the threshold of the home in disbelief, and then he saw her waiting for him in that room. Just like she was waiting for presumably many other callers to speak with her, he was one of the plentiful men amazed by her beauty.
She looked like the sun. Her hair was blonde and in perfectly bouncy, charming curls that radiated the energy of a girl who danced in fields and was not afraid to run barefoot. Her eyes were a beautiful, unique color that was just as warm as her voice sounded. Heavens, did her voice sound like the honey he imagined? Her nose was cute and petite, with long eyelashes that made a man wish to stare at her long enough to just watch her blink. And those lips, full and colored like springtime, pink and soft, smooth to the touch. He felt his face get hot when she saw him. He hoped she thought the same of him.
He was lucky to have changed into another outfit before getting off the boat to see her. It was at this moment he had wished to ask for someone else’s home to take shelter, he could have bathed and then gone to see her fresh! Unfortunately, he was just that comfortable with the letters spelled out to him on a scroll to ask her for a place to stay. His hair was still messy, and he most likely smelled of sea salt, but he gave her a smile.
“It is a pleasure to meet you. It is me, Emmanuel, and I apologize if I have brought you too many gifts.” He chuckled slightly, laughing at himself as he looked down at his very busy hands. “I was not sure which to choose.” He said sincerely, unsure of what else to add. He would attempt at more of a flirtation, but they were friends exclusively, and she was not seeking romance, so he remained respectful
@Kristi Belle