Princess Opal (princess_opal) wrote in into_the_woods, @ 2014-07-26 14:41:00 |
|
|||
Entry tags: | diamonds and toads - princess, little red riding hood |
Practicing (open)
Opal tilted her face up to feel the warmth of the sunshine on her cheeks. Though things had been much better in the castle thses days, and she felt less like running away, there was still something inside her that longed to be outdoors and free. So she hadn’t given up on sneaking out. At least, not entirely.
Besides, she had good reason to be outside the castle today: dancing lessons. Or more specifically, avoiding the official lessons to practice on her own. It wasn’t that she was utterly ungraceful, and really she liked to dance. But country dances were completely different than courtly dances, and her instructor kept chiding her to take daintier steps and to hop rather than jump. Like a goat, he’d said. She kept trying to dance like a princess and learn all the pretty steps, but sometimes she just got carried away because dancing was fun. Or she thought it should be, anyway.
Currently, she was in a clearing, not terribly far from the castle, taking a short break. It was a lovely, warm day, and her forehead felt a bit damp. She’d have continued with her practice of the mincing steps, trying to learn to do it right, but she’d had to stop for another royal reason: princesses were not supposed to sweat.
They weren’t supposed to run away either, but Opal rationalized that away by recalling that she’d left a note for Henry. So it wasn’t really running away then, was it? She hadn’t wanted him to worry, and she thought he just might now. They had been spending more time together since they’d gone to watch the stars fall. In fact, she’d folded the note she’d left in the shape of a star, so he’d know it was from her, rather than signing it so anybody could see where she’d gone.
Feeling a bit more refreshed now that she’d been still a few moments, Opal set aside the paper with the dance steps drawn on it. Enough of that for now. Instead she pulled out the gift that had mysteriously appeared on her pillow a week ago. Wrapped in plain brown paper, with no name or note attached, she’d discovered a book.
It had been an exciting find, actually, for it contained a translated copy of Reducción de las letras y arte para enseñar a hablar a los mudos, or “reduction of letters and art for teaching mute people to speak.” In it were different ways of holding her hands to indicate letters of the alphabet. Essentially, it was a way for her to speak without speaking. Opal had been practicing at it nonstop in every spare moment she found since acquiring the gift. She had no idea who had sent it to her, but one of the very first things she’d learned to spell with her fingers was “Thank you.”
Today, however, she was practicing some other phrases. “Would you like to dance?” “You’re very handsome.” “Please kiss me.” Not that she was going to use that last one, but somehow, she thought she ought to practice it anyway. Very shyly and hesitantly, she made the letters for “I love you.”
But she knew she was never going to get to use that one.