The malevolent Czar of Nome had been raised from his cursed slumber. Now with power so wretched, yet so powerful, deluded with a raging vendetta.
Oz was his objective. He shall be king. Upon his side, would be the blessed Lady Glinda, the woman he h...
Chateau De Courcillon's guest room was grand, Dorothy found. Perhaps, lacking a few pieces of furniture, but the four-poster bed, the vanity table, and the rocking chair were more than enough. Her soft eyes wandered to the ceiling, soaking the fresh air from the two windows she left open, as she rested her head back on the soft pillow.
At that moment, despite Toto being in there with her, playing with a ball of yarn on the floor, she felt somewhat alone. Her mind left her body on the bed and relived her sweet moment on the ship.
When there were no spaces left between their bodies. A warm embrace. Her head rested on his shoulder. A light kiss on top of her head. Dorothy intended for them to be friends, but the way he held her, his soft gaze over her shameless face, she saw a glimpse of what might have been, or what could have become.
They displayed an act of affection. An act that is shared between an intimate couple, not friends. Dorothy had only known that man for over a month, and she knew. Yes, she knew, she had completely and utterly fallen head over heels towards him.
A soft knock pulled her into reality. She was about to speak, but Toto had called first. "Who is it?"
"One of the servant girls, ma'am." A feminine voice replied. "I'm here to deliver a message from The Captain."
Dorothy opened the door, letting the young woman in a dark uniform stride into her room. In her careful arms was a large box. Dorothy knew instantly, perhaps, what gave it away might be the specifically wide design of the box, the satin ribbon that held the lid together, or the tag that displayed the name of a boutique just down the streets, it was a dress. "This came from the captain?"
"Yes ma'am." the maid nodded, untying the ribbon with her slender finger. "And he also had a message; Meet him at the house by the orchard."
A rendezvous!
Perhaps not, she hesitated for a hot second.
But her heart leaped a great leap, perhaps it is.
Dorothy stood beside the maid, eyeing the soft, sky-blue garments, neatly folded inside the box. Running her hand against the material, feeling the soft and intricately designed outfit. Her heart skipped a beat, as she reminded herself that Edward might be the first man to buy her a dress. She took the fabrics out with a silent thank you, eager to wear them.
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The town, if to be described by a word, would be slow. Slow, as in, the peaceful pace in the livelihood of the townspeople livelihood. So, as Edward ran across the main street when others kept their leisure pace, a bouquet in one hand, it brought the people to wonder, what on earth could be that important?
The ache in Edward's heart grew and grew with every step. Layers of dust billowed from his boots as he went. The hot, dull air filled his lungs as his hair was tousled by the breeze.
Excitement soared in his spirit as he reached the orchard. He felt as if he was flying, he wished he was flying. Pushing and pulling his thigh as he picked up some speed, wishing that one extraordinary push could bring him toward the air.
