The Picnic: Cloning with Lydia
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Warning: Writer has no idea what’s she writing, just needed to get it out
“Is there a difference between hope and want, Prince Emmanuel?” Belle questioned amused by his choice of words. ‘i told you that i am supposed to find a wife. That does not mean that I want to. Obviously, I do hope’ That was what the Prince had said, his words quite contradictory. “Both imply that it is a desire, do they not?” Her eyes twinkled, “But thank you my prince, for enjoying my company.” Belle had said, her tone though might have sounded sardonic, was not.
At the Prince’s next words, Belle had resisted the urge to roll her eyes or to show any emotion. Instead, she had studied Emmanuel’s expression, noting the fleeting glimpse of longing that flickered across his features. “I thought you did not wantt a wife, meaning that you wish not for marriage but then again I suppose you do hope for it.” With a light teasing voice, Belle’s words flew, “I did not take you to be quite sensitive, but I suppose you must forgive me for my blunt nature. It is a trait inherited from years of navigating the intricacies of high society and I have never learnt to yield.” Belle said at the end, quoting one of her favorite plays from Ancient Greece, Antigone.
When Belle was quite young, she had taken a liking to ancient Greece and Rome, like most creative European minds do. Ancient Greece is after all the mother to Western civilization as it is known, influencing politics and philosophy. But unlike many western aesthetes, Belle does not romanticize Ancient Greece, she was far too wise to romanticize Ancient Greece and wish to be born in such civilization, for a woman it was worse time than times of today and its culture of pedestry was not to fly today. Furthermore, though Belle did not romanticize Ancient Greece, she sure did find herself often fascinated by their art, particularly their literature and plays. Sophocles, emerging as her favorite playwrighter. He was quite brilliant and far ahead of his time, unfortunately not all of his plays were preserved for posterity. Nevertheless, the ones that survived, like Antigone, continued to captivate Belle’s imagination with their timeless themes and compelling characters and Antigone was quite the compelling character. Quite headstrong, her sister had often compared Belle to Antigone, but Belle felt that she and Antigone were way to different in many ways to be compared.
Again, Belle had teased Emmanuel, teasing him for the way he used his words, and calling him a gentleman. Though the way she had used that word, gentleman was mocking, and the prince knew it. To Belle, it looked like he was trying to hide a smile, but the tugging of his lips betrayed it.
“Touche,” Belle had said, “But still, I had no idea that the words, ‘Let us find a prepossessing resting place together to sit’ had been omitted from the English language.” She had continued, “I suppose that me being a french woman,” She said, recalling how Emmanuel had once called her ENGLISH, “I do not get updated on what is removed or added to the language of the Englishmen.” She teased with her wits.
As she was about to sit, Belle rolled out the carpet, while the prince settled the meal items. He had looked up as he placed the last few things, as Belle had turned to him once she sat, saying that she was glad that ‘his hunger had led him to her basket’ He had responded that he too was glad that had happened, and that he supposed the lady accompanying them was nice too. “Just nice?” Her brows arched, “I retract my gentleman comment, you are far from a gentleman,” She bantered as she stared at the food.
The spread showcased not just the finesse of French cuisine but also the artistry in Belle’s household. Bouquets of edible flowers adorned the pastries, a visual and aromatic delight. The basket was decorated so beautifully and there were a lot of things in it, truly the maids deserved a lot of praise for the basket, especially for this perfectly baked Macarons- Belle thought to herself as she picked up a macaron, the thin shell yielding to a soft, flavorful interior, the fragrance of almond and sweetness enveloped her. With an effortless grace, she brought the delicate pastry to her lips, savoring each bite. She grabbed a handkerchief the basket, cleaning her lips with it as she straightened her back and turned to Emmanuel. yes I copied and pasted from Belle’s other post to emma shush
She had told him to try it, offering it to him, blinking as he took it with a hurry from her hands, as if she was going to retract her offer to him. She could not help herself from blinking even more internally, though externally she kept her face blank. Well, he had obviously been at war for quite a time, though she did not expect him to be this starved. She wondered, she was never quite the best with this social thing, if it would be alright to ask him if he was starved at home. “Is spain in a famine?” She knew it was not, or at least from what she had last heard, but she could not help but to ask. “Or are the pastries of the french, simple better than the spanish.” She teased, as she offered him another pastry, watching how he took it with quickness again. “Yes, thank you, the maids are quite the chef.” Belle praised the maids.
They had then began to start talking of poison as Belle brought up the fact that if it were her who made the basket, then it would have been poisoned. Emmanuel had asked why and Belle had shrugged, speaking in riddles. When he had said that he was also saving her from detainment, Belle had said nothing, simply opting to taking a sandwich. “The sandwich is quite splendid” She said, getting a napkin from the basket and lightly cleaning her face with it.
“What were you going to do instead of coming here?” Emmanuel had asked and Belle could have said a lot or she could have told him she planned to read and enjoy her time without others irking her. But instead she had told him in less than simpler terms what she would have wish to do- walk in a garden with flowers. Make flower crowns with her younger sister, Kat. “I do tend to ride as well, but I prefer the company of flowers to the smell of horse dung.” She continued, “And indeed, the horse of my family participated in the race and won its race, the horse trainer trained him well.”
Belle had questioned if he knew what type of flower he was, and he had told her no, asking her instead what his flower might be and Belle paused, trying to think. “An iris”," The Iris flower represents wisdom, courage, and admiration, which align with Belle’s perception of Emmanuel’s character, the iris flower also is associated with mourning and loss, and Emmanuel seemed to have a lot to grieve about. “yes indeed you’re an iris. If I were still around for your birthday, perhaps I can bring you iris flowers, when its your birthday, my prince?”