Mathieu (White Flame Trilogy) - By Paula Flumerfelt Page 0,40
twisting up-do. Mathieu smiled at her from across the room, hiding the flower behind his back. The whole room was teeming with servants moving to-and-fro, working on Avian’s hair, dress, make-up, shoes, and all sorts of other things he couldn’t imagine needed to be done at that exact moment.
“Hey!” Avian waved at him, beaming via the mirror.
“Hey, Avian, how are you?” He approached the Princess, kissed her cheek, and seated himself on the window sill.
She wrinkled her nose. “Getting tortured by this broad. She keeps pulling my friggin’ hair.” Avian cast a mean look and a rude gesture at the woman.
“What if I said I could make it all better?” Mathieu said, wiggling his eyebrows.
She fixed him with a sideways look. “If I didn’t know you swung that way, I would get concerned about the things you say.” Then her face perked up. “But what will make me happy?”
Grinning, he held out the flower in the ball of translucent energy. “For your hair, love.” Happiness and embarrassment made his mocha colored cheeks flush at her squeal of delight.
“Thank you!” The brunette hopped off the chair away from her “torturer”, much to the large woman’s dismay, to glomp a hug on him. “I love it!” Avian kissed his cheek hastily as the lady pulled her back to the stool.
Smiling, he pulled the white strands over his shoulder, running his fingers through it. Mathieu winced lightly as his fingers caught a tangle. “So, tell me something…”
“Hm?” His best friend closed her eyes as the lady wove the flower into her hair.
Tilting his head, the man wondered how to phrase the question he’d been pondering about etiquette. “I know that there are proper ways to greet people of different statuses. Like ways to greet the…helpers of the important people, but I’m your protector, but you’re taking me as your ‘date’. Tell me, am I expected to act like a right-hand or like an equal to you? This is all very confusing.” Mathieu began to rub his temples. “Damn it!” He hated to have to think about stuff like this.
She smiled, “The proper title for the others is the ‘entourage’ and no one will know that you are mine. If they ask, you are my date, therefore you’ll be treated like my equal. Don’t worry about it. If you really make a big mistake, I’m play the Princess Card and they’ll have to forgive you.”
Stucking his tongue out at her, he blew a raspberry; that made her smile. “Thanks. This is hard work, I tell you.”
“You’ll get used to it. I mean, you’re gonna spend forever with me…right?” She looked up at him with big, golden eyes.
He stood and patted her head, smiling slightly. “Yeah, Avi…yeah.” Something inside of him told him that it was the right answer, but it didn’t help the knot that formed in his stomach whenever they talked about the future. There were just too many unknowns, too many variables he couldn’t account for. He knew deep down that someday he wouldn’t be by her side, that he wouldn’t be able to protect her; that scared him.
“Good! Now go get ready. The torturer says she’ll do your hair too. Make it all smooth and shiny and stuff.” Avian pointed with her toes to his bedroom door.
Nodding, he gently nudged her before going into his room. Sliding the closet open, he found his suit pressed and hanging, ready to be put on. Mathieu looked at it before pulling it off the hangar, feeling as though a daunting task lay ahead of him.
Twenty minutes and many swear words later, he stood half in his suit, half out. He had to jump around to prevent losing his balance. This thing has like eight pieces to it! Why couldn’t it have been as simple as
put on the pants, button a top and pull on a jacket. But nooo, had to make a fancy-smancy one that is going to make me break my friggin’ neck!
Nikola purred with amusement from her perch on the bed. Mathieu huffed to himself as he managed to right most of the suit and get it on. Mumbling to himself about the benefits of an instruction manual, he straightened the pants and tucked in the pockets. A few more pieces fell into place, with some aid of brute force, and soon he was standing in front of the mirror, supposedly fully dressed.
The suit was a deep red with black pinstripes. The pants fit his hips tightly but hung loosely around the