The Plan (EDITING)

CHAPTER TWO

1890

To meet one's fate is not a pleasant event for most. But, for some, it may be the only choice.

The fluttering and sharp grass cut around the steps of Anastasia's garden makes her smile widen. Her mother spent hours tending the daisy bushes, berry bushes, and flower trees. Wasn't it only natural for Anastasia to continue her mother's passon?

The royal family's two golden retrievers, Mopsie and Patch, find their way to the glass and ice tinted greenhouse, bathing in the sun without the awful heat of the morning.

Whispers of giggles from her mother echo amongst the wind, parting the ruffles along the bottom of her tea dress. Her mother used to wear this very same dress while gardening. Perhaps it is outdated, but Anastasa does not mind.

The clouds, ripped from a painting, are dazzling over the rusted fountain. Only God knows the reason why it still works. Trees shuffle and brush along the summer leaves, synchronizing with the melody of the wind.

It was impossible for Anastasia not to pick up a strawberry from the bush, once tended with her charming sister, Beatrice, and Mama. Blast of sweet and tangy filled her mouth to no end—the horizon kissed her tongue. She enjoyed the fragrance of the white gardenia flower spreading around the premises.

"Anastasia, are you out here?" she hears, stopping her impulse to grab another one. "Oh, there you are."

er older sister, Beatrice, waves from the stairs. She had been on a trip out to Bath with her husband, Mr. Edgar Taylor. Anastasia didn't expect her company until next week. The blue of Beatrice's eyes are suppressed into a lighter gray from the sun rays.

"Good day, Beatrice. I thought you were arriving here next week."

Beatrice smiles, locking hands with her sister and leading her up the garden stairs. "Poor Edgar couldn't stand the society of his family. He called the carriage earlier."

"Oh, I understand."

"I have good news. For you– at least," she says, opening the glass doors inside the palace. The halls dance and sing with housekeepers dusting the walls, tables, and portraits of their ancestors. The two sisters ran up the red-carpeted steps, walking down the gold sculpted walls. "Prince Alfonso of Spain and his family are visiting for the week. Hmm..." She stops and looks at the new painting of her and Edgar in the hallway. "Exquisitely done, you agree, right?"

"Must you get distracted?" Anastasia asks.

"Oh, you must admit how beautiful the–"

"Alfonso is another suitor, is he not?" The doors of the dining room are wide open, showing the long wooden table filled with pastries, biscuits, and fruits.

Beatrice links arms with her sister. "Yes, but he is quite the charm. Papa wants an engagement to be announced by the end of the season. How delightful!"

"An...an engagement?" her hands cover her mouth, tears fighting to meet her cheek. That is all so quick. Her dearest friend, Mr. Leopold Allen, has been hinting towards engagement for months. Their father knows about him, too– and he even promised her his blessing. How is he switching his sentiment? "There must be a switch up."

Anastasia separates herself from her sister, grabbing the base of her dress and running up the steps. An engagement will not be happening between her and Alfonso. He is too much of a flirt, not to be trusted, and is a mad man. Everything must go his way, or nothing shall be done at all.

"Ani!" Stanley announces from behind her. "Ah, there you are."

She waves to him as he walks beside her, as she grabs a berry from the basket. "Have you heard of Prince Alfonso?" she asks. "You must have heard of him, no? You know everything."