“What?” Drinian asked, his eyebrows raised.
“It’s just that we’re not on very good terms right now.”
“About what?”
“I can't tell, but let’s say, we had no small argument.”
“It wasn't as bad as our squabble was it?”
“No, but it was pretty bad.”
“If my guess is correct, Reagan was not nice to you either.”
“We were both acted horribly toward each other.”
“Well the only thing you can do is apologize.”
“I did, but I don't think it was good enough for her.”
“Sleep on it. Do not worry about the problem tonight. It may appear to be big now, but when you wake up in the morning it may seem like nothing.”
“Good advice! Did you learn it from Woodphere?”
“Yes, I did. I’m trying gain as much wisdom as possible before I become King.”
“Well goodnight, I'll see you in the morning Drinian,” Constance said getting up from the steps.
“Sleep well,” Drinian replied.
***************
The next morning, Constance was up bright and early, ready to help with breakfast.
“How did you sleep Constance?” Mrs. Monroe asked, as she stirred the steaming hot oatmeal while Constance was climbing down the ladder.
“Very well, when I wasn’t thinking about Reagan,” Constance said, as she picked up the stack of dishes that sat on the table.
“Reagan?” Mrs. Monroe asked, lifting her head and turning to Constance.
“Yes, I'm afraid were not getting along very well.”
“Ah, is it because of Drinian?”
“Yes. Since I didn't know she liked Drinian so much, I said a few thing I shouldn’t have,” Constance sighed, as she arranged the plates around the table.
“Reagan is very determined to have Drinian. She is my younger sister, and I've tried to help guide her in making decisions. However, when it comes to Drinian I can't persuade her that he may love someone else.”
Suddenly Reagan appeared in the doorway.
“Hello, Ann,” Reagan greeted, as she walked in.
Constance looked over at Reagan who turned quickly away.
“Hello Reagan,” Constance said quietly.
Reagan did not reply.
“Reagan are you going to say good morning to our guest?” Mrs. Monroe asked.
“I have nothing to say to her, since she seemingly has no respect for other people,” Reagan replied, walking over to the stove.
“Reagan, I sincerely apologize. I didn't mean what I said last night, or at least not all of it.
“The oatmeal's done now. Constance would you please go outside and call in the men and Rosella. I do believe they are by the pond.”
Mrs. Monroe gave Constance a look as if to say that she wanted to talk to Reagan alone.
She quietly left the house, and went down to the pond. She was dying to know what Mrs. Monroe and Reagan were talking about, but this time she linger to listen outside the door.
***************
They soon came back to the house to find Mrs. Monroe and Reagan had the meal on the table and ready to eat. They were all seated and eating heartily when an unexpected visitor appeared at the door. There stood a tall muscular young man, about six foot four inches, with shaggy black hair and dark blue eyes.
“Silas, what are you doing here?” Mrs. Monroe asked, while holding Lilly in her lap.
“Hello Silas,” Drinian greeted.
“Hello Your Majesty, Mr. Monroe, Mrs. Monroe. I am so sorry to be intruding on your breakfast, but I have some news to tell you,” Silas replied in a deep voice
“That’s alright, have you had your breakfast yet?” Mrs. Monroe asked.
“No I have not, but I do not want to impose.”
“You are no bother at all, please sit down.” Mr. Monroe insisted.
“Here Silas, you may have my seat,” Reagan offered her seat, which was right beside Constance.
Silas cheerfully sat down beside Constance, as Mrs. Monroe scooped out a warm bowl of oatmeal for him.
“So Silas, why have you come?” Mrs. Monroe asked.
Silas was paying no attention to Mrs. Monroe, for his eyes were feasting on Constance. Silas had never seen such a beautiful young women. Her face and complexion were so delicate, yet her eyes were dark and mysterious.
“Silas!” Mr. Monroe exclaimed.
“Yes sir?”
“I said, why have you come?”
“Oh... I um... wanted you to know that my father is digging a new well.
“Yes, but I already know that.”
“Oh ... he wants you to know that … you can have as much water as you can use,” Silas finished, with his eyes focused on Constance.
“That is very kind of him, tell him thank you,” Mr. Monroe replied.
“Oh, yes sir.”
Constance was becoming quite annoyed with Silas’s persistent gawking. She wished she had a pie in front of her to throw in his face. That would not be ladylike, but maybe that would keep him from staring.
“Here you are Silas,” Mrs. Monroe said, handing him the bowl of oatmeal.
“Thank you.”
Drinian noticed Silas’s obvious fascination with Constance, and for some reason, he did not like it at all.
“Oh, Silas I believe you have not met Constance,” Reagan said, with a mischievous smirk on her face.
“I believe I have not had the honor. I'm Silas O’Neal,” he said, smiling.
“Nice to meet you, I'm Constance Jones,” Constance replied, looking up at Silas.
“Constance is traveling with me to see Moolow,” Drinian said.
“Really, how fortunate,” Silas replied.
“How long shall you be staying here at the Kallies, Constance?”
“I'm not quite sure. Drinian how long do we plan on staying?”
“We’re going to leave before sun-up tomorrow.”
“It is a shame that you cannot stay longer.”
“So, how is your crop looking, Silas? Do you expect the harvest to be plentiful?” Mr. Monroe asked.
Silas took a large bite of oatmeal, and swallowing replied, “My father says the crops look very good for so early in the season. I do believe we may even be able to harvest two separate crops this year,” Silas replied.
“Do tell Constance what crops you grow, Silas,” Reagan said.
“I grow mainly wheat, along with cotton and beans.”
“Really, that is interesting,” Constance replied.
Soon everyone had finished breakfast, and excused themselves to do chores and visit.
“Constance would you like to accompany Woodphere and me on our visits to some more families?” Drinian asked.
“I would love to, but I really need to stay here and rest before our big journey tomorrow. I think I shall go sit by the pond since it’s so peaceful there, and maybe even write some poetry.”
“You enjoy poetry?” Silas asked, coming up beside Constance.
“Yes, I do. It's a very relaxing hobby.”
“That is extraordinary, for I also like poetry.”
“What an odd coincidence,” Constance replied, not sounding too enthused.
“Woodphere and I really need to get going if we’re going to be back before supper. Do whatever you like, but please do not go traipsing off into the woods again.” Drinian said smiling.
Constance grinned at the comment and watched as they left the cabin.
“Mrs. Monroe, do you need anything before I go down to the pond?”
“No, Constance. Now you go and enjoy yourself.”
“I will.” Constance said going out the door.
“It was very nice meeting you Constance,” Silas said.
“You as well.”
“I must be going,” Silas said.
“It was very nice having you for breakfast, Silas,” Mrs. Monroe replied.
“Thank you for having me, the
oatmeal was delicious.”
“Silas wait, before you go could I talk with you alone,” Reagan asked, as she followed him out the door.
“Silas you may not know this, but Constance is not engaged to Prince Drinian. She’s available,” Reagan whispered as they stood outside.
“I know. Mammy May, said that she was not married, and that she was here looking for someone to marry,” Silas replied.
“My, Mammy May does know about everything doesn’t she.”
“Not everything.”
“I think you should ask Constance to dinner Silas. After all you may never see her again after today, unless you keep in contact with her.”
“You are right, but I can't turn my back on you. I have been calling on you ever since I was seven and ten.”
“And now you are nine and ten, Silas. You don't have to love me if you love another. I have someone else in mind, but I have never told you.” Reagan said.
“You do not mind then if I ask Constance to dinner?”
“Of course not, I encourage it. Go on Silas and do it!”
“I will!” Silas exclaimed, rushing back toward his house.
“Where is Silas going in such a hurry?” Mrs. Monroe asked, coming to the door, with a towel and pot in hand.
“He's in a hurry to see Constance,” Reagan replied, with a satisfied grin on her face.
“Reagan, what did you tell Silas?”
“Mamma!” “Can I go outside and play?” Rosella asked.
“Yes, Rosella, run along and find your friends.”
Reagan walked into the house and sat down on a wooden chair at the table. “I told Silas that I did not love him, and if he liked someone else that was fine with me.”
“Reagan, why did Silas come today? I know it wasn't to tell us that his father is sharing his well.” Mrs. Monroe asked, sitting down at the table also.
“He found out that Constance was here!”
“And how did he find that out?”
“I told Mammy May that Constance was single, beautiful, and that she was looking for a strong muscular man to marry. I told her to tell Silas.”
“Reagan how could you lie like that? You know Constance isn't looking for a husband! Why did you do that?”
Reagan was silent for several seconds.
“I don't like her! I was hoping that Silas would fall madly in love with Constance, and Constance would fall madly in love with him. Every girl in the village likes Silas, so why wouldn’t she?”
“And you thought if Constance would fall in love with Silas, you could have Drinian, am I right?” Mrs. Monroe asked.
“Yes,” Reagan replied, looking away.
“Reagan, I've tried to guide you ever since your mother and father died, but I'm afraid I've gone wrong somewhere. You are so determined to get what you want; that you haven’t noticed that Drinian does care for you that way. I am sorry, but I had to tell you before your heart was broken.”
“Of course you think Drinian likes Constance, you’re on her side! Somewhere deep inside, however, I’m sure he loves me!”
“Reagan, you can think what you want. You’re seven and ten and its time I let you make your own decisions and learn from your own mistakes. I've protected you long enough, and now you are on your own. If you ask my advice I will give it, but I will no longer interfere in your life.”
Mrs. Monroe ended the conversation on that note and turned back to the tub of dishes.
Reagan quietly left the house, and walked back to her own, with her head down in deep thought.
Constance’s Admirer
Meanwhile Silas had returned to his cabin, bathed, put on his Sunday best, and dowsed himself with cologne. He stepped out the door with a bouquet of flowers in his hands, walking proudly as he went to find Constance.
“Good morning Silas,” Miss Lake greeted as she passed by him.
“Good morning, Miss Lake,” Silas replied with a grin on his face, as he continued.
“My, where is Silas off to Mammy May? Dressed in his Sunday best, he surely can't be going to a funeral, for he looks far too happy!” Mrs. Lake exclaimed to Mammy May who stood by her side.
“I happen to know that he is going calling,” Mammy May answered, as she peered over her oval spectacles.
“Calling again. He's already called on Reagan twice this week.”
“I don’t think he is calling on Reagan anymore.”
“You mean he's deserted the poor girl?” Mrs. Lake exclaimed, as she watched Silas disappear from sight.
“No, but he has his eyes on someone else,” Mammy May replied.
“Whoever could it be?”
“I do believe it happens to be the young lady that is traveling with Prince Drinian and Sir Woodphere. Constance is her name.”
“Oh yes, I did hear that a young lady was traveling with him. I bet my buttons Reagan’s not happy about that! Ever since I can remember she has thought of no one but Prince Drinian,” Mrs. Lake responded.
“Reagan may be beautiful, but she has a lot of growing up to do. I was more than happy to tell Silas that Constance was available! That boy needs a girl who shows some appreciation for him and is not so flighty. If I'm not mistaken though, Prince Drinian does not have feelings for Reagan. Well, enough with my squalling. I need to get over to that Velma girls house and tell her that I saw a handsome, young gentlemen pass through town this morning Good day Lillian.”
“Have a good day, Mammy May,” Mrs. Lake replied.
***************
Constance was sitting by the sparkling pond, enjoying the shade of the overhanging trees. It was a perfect place to write poetry.
The water trickles down the wet rock like a fountain; the breeze sings her sweet song and blows through my hair…
Constance’s thoughts were interrupted as she heard footsteps. Who could that be, she wondered, as she turned to see Silas grinning awkwardly.
“Silas, what are you doing here?”
“Um, I... What are you doing here?” Silas responded, trying to avoid her question.
“I’m here to write poetry. I find it easier to write when I'm alone with nature.”
“Oh, I'm sorry to interrupt you,” Silas replied, his eyes large with concern.
“Oh, that okay.” Constance replied turning back to her writing as I wish he would leave thoughts ran through her head.
“Could I help you with something?” Constance asked.
“No ... well, actually yes... I mean these are for you,” Silas said, handing Constance the flowers.
“For me? That's very kind of you Silas, what kind are they?” Constance asked, observing the golden petals and the shimmering silver hue inside.
“Um, I can't remember, I think they’re golden blossoms, or something like that.”
“Really, I've never heard of them.”
“Constance, I was wondering if you could come to supper at my parents’ house tonight.”
“Oh... that is very kind of you Silas, but I think I have other plans with Drinian and Woodphere.”
“Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Where will you be going?” he asked, rubbing his chin.
“I only know their last name is Brontay,” Constance replied, pushing a strand of hair from her face.
“You mean Pride and Helen Brontay? They’re very kind and have daughter named Grace. However, they do support the Molters.”
“They think Drinian should be killed?” Constance replied, with a shocked expression on her face.
“No, they just do not want him to be King.”
“But why not? Drinian will make a wonderful King”
“I imagine they think he is too young and inexperienced,” Silas replied solemnly.
“Would they rather have King Taybayeere's daughter rule?”
“No, they don’t want Princess Penella to be queen either, since she has very foolish ways.”
“Who do they want to rule?”
“They think the council is doing a good enough job.”
&n
bsp; “I'm sure Drinian will convince them otherwise,” Constance assured Silas.
At that moment a pretty young girl with blonde hair came galloping up to them on a white horse with a large horn on its forehead.
“Is that a unicorn?” Constance asked in amazement.
“Indeed, we have a few around here” Silas replied.
“Hello Silas,” the girl said.
“Good morning. Constance this is my sister Julia,” Silas said, introducing the two girls.
“Nice to meet you Julia. I'm Constance,”
“It is a pleasure to meet you,” replied Julia, her eyes sparkling.
“You have a beautiful animal, what is its name?”
“Jewel.”
“It suites her so well, being white with bright eyes.”
“Thank you. Oh Silas, Linda has come to see you,” Julia sighed.
“Again? Did you tell her that I was out?”
“Yes, but she insisted on staying until you returned. You know how she is, she won't let a person get a word in.”
“Julia, go back and tell her that I am out for the day, and I'm not returning until supper,” Silas replied.
“She will wait until supper, I can guarantee it,” Julia insisted, looking directly into her brothers eyes.
“I do not want to see her! All she does is gush about my hair, my clothes, my eyes, my muscles. It gives a man a headache! Julia please make an excuse for me,” Silas pleaded.
“Silas!” Julia exclaimed.
“Please! I'll do anything you wish, please tell her.”
“Alright, I will do my best.”
“Thank you dear sister,” Silas replied.
“You owe me one,” Julia retorted as she mounted Jewel and turned toward the village.
Constance was still wanting to spend time alone and was uneasy about what do next. Did she have the nerve to ask him to leave?
“May I sit on that rock over there and enjoy this beautiful day with you?” Silas asked politely.
“You have more right to this area more than I do,” Constance replied.
Silas parked himself on a rock that was opposite Constance.
Constance sighed, and took in a deep breath of fresh air. The sound of birds singing their sweet melody, is like a choir with a glorious sound …..Constance pausing, glanced up to see Silas staring at her as she wrote.
A Path Toward Home (The Annals of Avonea) Page 7
