Project Jack

Chapter Seven: Celia

My father forced me to take Dean to his rooms. I tried to object because meeting the man I would eventually marry was enough for one day, but he reminded me that a lot was riding on this.
    "Hi, Prince Dean, I am Celia." I didn't know what an appropriate gesture would be in that moment, so I stuck my hamd out for him to shake. He looked at it, and shook my hand.
"It's just Dean," he said, "I've never been one for formality."
"Okay, Dean, your rooms are this way." I lead him through the main hallway. "What do you like to do in your spare time?" I ask him.
"I read a lot. I like to cook, play instruments, collect cars, I have many hobbies. Lots of free time."
I look at Dean, intrigued. "What do you like to read?"
"Classic Literature. Do you read?"
"Quite often. We have a beautiful library. I'd love to show you it sometime." He nods and smiles. It is a nice smile. He has really nice teeth. Honestly, Dean is a very attractive person. His blond hair is neat and full. His eyes are a shade of green I didn't even know was humanly possible. His accent makes the sound 'literature' sound much more sophisticated than it actually is. I'll have to tell Gina all about it later.
The next minute is almost silent. He seems to be deep in thought and I don't want to interrupt him. We approach his rooms and before I can tell him we are here, he speaks.
"What's your cat's name?" he asks. I give him a funny look. "Sorry, that was totally random. I just heard you had a cat before I came."
"Her name is Stalls." I reply.
"Stalls, I like it. I would like to meet her sometime."
"Okay," I laugh, "I can make that happen." I must admit that I am a little charmed he asked about Stalls. Even more charmed because he asked to meet her. I stop in front of his door. "This is where you will be staying. My father assigned a concierge to you. He will be by later to introduce himself and escort you to dinner. I believe someone dropped off your bags and something to eat."
"Thank you. It was really nice to meet you, Celia. I look forward to seeing you again." He takes my hand and gently kisses it. I can feel my cheeks redden.
"Goodbye, Dean,"
The second I get back to my rooms, Gina asks many questions.
"What did he look like? Was he nice? Are you going to marry him?"
I sit down in a large armchair. "He wasn't what I was expecting. His deal was solid and my father asked him to stay," I pause before saying what she actually wanted to hear, "he wasn't unattractive. I walked him to his rooms and he asked me about Stalls."
"Celia are you saying you liked the way he looks?"
"I guess I am." She shrieks. "This doesn't mean I am in love with him or anything. I am just excited Ardella will be protected."
"Of course, of course." She looks at me and I can't help but smile.
Gina and I pick out a new dress for dinner. This one is a dark green. It falls to the floor in length. There are hundreds of small beads sewn into the bodice. Every single dress Gina puts in my closet is stunning. It is a gift she has that I do not.
My hair is taken out of the whirly updo it was in. Now, tight ringlets fall from my head. Gina carefully brushes though them. She pins some of it up, but leaves most of it how it was. I allow her to apply a little more makeup than I did this morning. After all, it is proper to look your best at a dinner with guests. Especially if the guest is your future husband.
Again, the two knocks on my door signal it is time to go. I'm much less nervous this time around.
"You look beautiful Celia." Gina always tells me I'm beautiful before I leave. It is one of the things I love about her.
"Thank you," I reply.
"Now go get your husband!" I roll my eyes and walk to the door. I open my own door, and a guard greets me with a bow. This is one of the formalities I can not escape. I wave to Gina and head to one of the most exciting dinners of my life.
I can smell the food that the cooks have prepared. As always, it smells amazing. My mother is already seated, but my father's space at the end the table is still empty. I take the seat across from her. Soon, Dean's concierge enters the dining hall. Dean is right behind him and he looks even better than he did this morning. He walks with such confidence that one would believe this was his palace. Maybe he knows that someday it will be. He sits next to me.
My father enters the room and we all stand. He looks even more regal than normal. It seems like he's trying to impress Dean. It is an almost unusual sight for me. I've never seen my father try to impress anyone. He tells us to take a seat. The first course, a salad with large, fresh strawberries, is placed in front of us.
"So, Dean, how are you liking Ardella so far?" my mother asks.
"The palace is like nothing I've ever seen before. It's quite exquisite."
"It is very lovely," my mother replies.
"Does the rest of your country have architecture this wonderful?"
I cringe at his question. Our country was known for our architecture before Tithania bombed and destroyed many of our landmark buildings. I decide to speak before my mother can. "We used to be but the war has changed that." I change the subject. "What does your country look like?"
He smiles. "Stettonberg has wonderful coasts. The Castle is on a hill that overlooks my favorite beach. The weather is a lot like the weather here but summers at home get much hotter."
"That sounds wonderful," my mother says. "What about your family? What are they like?"
"My father is a very serious man. It makes him a good King. My mother is very loving. They compliment each other perfectly. My older brothers are smart and ambitious and either one of them will make a good King. My younger sisters are incredible. They are kind and caring and can make even my father laugh. I will miss them, but I am excited about what I may find here." Dean probably means he is excited he may be king one day. But after he says it, he looks at me with his big green eyes and it makes me wonder what possibilities our futures hold.
"Emmaline, Celia, I think you've asked the boy enough questions," my father says, "let him ask Celia a few questions. I'm sure there is something he wants to know about her."
"Actually, yes, there is something I've been wondering about." He turns to face me. "How long have you been flying planes?" I'm eager to answer his question, but before I can, my father cuts me off.
"Celia is not a pilot, she is a princess that spends far too much time gawking at planes." He softens his tone. "Why don't you ask her about her studies? She is always happy to talk about that."
Dean is clearly confused, but he obliges. "What have you learned recently?"
I feel defeated that my father won't allow me to talk about flying, but I don't want to seem rude when the future of Ardella rides on one boy liking me. "Recently I've been learning old dead languages. Spanish and French, mostly."
We talk a little bit more about our lives during the rest of the meal. Each course was as delightful as the last. The conversation begins to slow, but luckily dinner was almost over. Guards pour into the room to escort all of us back to our rooms. When I see the familiar face of my guard, I begin to walk that way. Once I'm out of my parent's earshot, I tell him I'd like to change and go to the hanger. It's not like my parents don't know I fly their planes, they just greatly disapprove. They believe it is a childish obsession that is no fit for a princess.
After putting on practical clothing, Julius greats me at the enterance of the aerial wing. "Hey Princess, I wasn't expecting you tonight. I don't have anything ready but I can help you in just a second."
His full hands and disheveled appearence tell me that he is busy. "Don't worry about it, I know how to prepare for takeoff." He gives me a big, toothy smile.
"Have fun out there, kid." He winks.
"I always do."
By the time I get everything ready, I'm a little dirty and I smell like oil, but I am happy as could be. It took a little longer than I had planned and the sun had already set many hours ago. Flying at night is almost more relaxing than flying during the day.
I maneuver my plane to the runway. This is my favorite feeling, favorite thing. I take off, and bask in the freedom I find in the air.
I fly towards Peiore. The buildings are light up in the darkness of night. I'm flying low enough that I can see a family sitting in their backyard around a fire. It is clearly a happy gathering and it makes me smile.
In the corner of my eye, I see another plane in the sky. I usually do not see other planes, especially other planed flying this low. I don't recognize the model of the plane. I try my radio to see if they are on the main Ardellan channel. They aren't. I'm not sure what this means, but I don't want to risk getting any closer to this mysterious plane. I start to turn the plane around, but the other plane begins to land. There is no where to land in Peiore. My curiosity wins. After flying over where they began to descend, I realize there is a rough runway, lit up by their lights, carved out of the soil. It is so unneat that I don't think I would've noticed it if I didn't see a plane land on it.
I have to admit, I'm both curious to know who that was and worried for the people of Peiore. This new runway may have just given me a chance to complete a few of my goals. Protect my people and see my country, but as a citizen.