A Royal Pain in the Ball ✓

Chapter 32 - And She Followed Him.

A few days had passed, of that day of when it happened. But it hadn't felt that long. Of which it was, and of which she had never felt something like this before. She would see him day to day as usual, as if nothing happened. And it wasn't that much of a difference. Unless you think of the time when she would be the stupid one who blushed everytime she saw his face. The bloody man.

She had thought, time to time again remember the event of a moment where she was back in the store, the empty cells of her brain decided to go rouge. And observing time to time again, the horror of how quick he had purchased the ring, with so much of confidence and the quick swoop of his payment; gladly as he dangled the carton of shopping bag in his hand. As he turned around and headed towards the exit door.

Much to her demise, as she noticed the glimmer in his eyes and as of when he turned around and looked at her, so much as a glance as he gazed, and the last conversation that she remembered was, that that the ring was much customly made by his most trusted friend, and it had been made by the most expensive, and purest of materials.

Of which she was struck back. And she didn't say a single word during the whole ride back, except when she was asked by the man, of course.

Cain. She had called him. Weird of a name, that she doesn't seem to remember that much. Even after a while of meeting him, after almost a year, she just had to give it some thought for a little bit before thinking the exact word and sputtering it out of her mouth. Which she'd never done with anybody else. Which she deemed it as weird, -- it just doesn't ring a bell to her mind and it took a while for her to say it aloud; it was pretty delirious and crazy to her.

Or perhaps maybe he just wasn't that attractive. Her mind brought up.

As of one day, that is today, as it passed by, in that single day that she had found him-- to be nowhere, which was odd, since she would usually see him in his room, or at the dining table that he ate. But she didn't. She hadn't seen him during breakfast, or the morning after that.

She had though, been informed by the butler how the Master just came by and finished a few moments ago.

That of which she thought was odd.
And she had, searched him all over. With much effort, but still couldn't find him. That she had felt her heart wrenching, for a moment, for not being able to find him during the morning, of that she was confused and abrasively tired from walking all over the place, and that she was blind-mapped and she was still clueless at the end.

She had smelled, though, his scent from down the stairs, and it reminded her that he was still there. And from that that she hadn't heard a single ruckus from his room. Or any signs that screamed that it was him.

The evening though, of which she had was that of the planting of beautiful flowers in the garden, and at the edges of the fields at bay, near the rear-ends of his house as well. As she saw the butler from the windows of her room, seemingly alone, and lonely as he did his chores, that she went down over and volunteered to do him his part of chores; and feeling kind-hearted to do so for once in a while. Of that was what she always did, once in a week.

And finally, as she went back up the stairs, after an evening of her lunch and a preparation of helping the butler of planting the seedlings of pink tulips and roses at the side, she felt relieved and glad that she had finished, which was pleasant enough to make her forget all about it - for a moment until she stepped on the porch of his front steps. Which she regretted that her mind swirled all the way back to him again. Undoingly so.

And she reached the top of the stairs to hear a ruckus coming from the library. On far edge of the hall, in the corner of the hallway, quitely far from her own bedroom.