She had thrown her shoes at a prince

Most of the adults were drunk.

Of course, they’d been drinking for hours so it stood to reason that most of them were too deep in their cups to keep their eyes open.

Rory sat at a table with her three guardians, staring at the some of the men sitting two tables over. They were bright eyed and ruddy cheeked. All three of them kept making loud toasts, mostly towards the newly wedded couple, which went largely ignored by the other patrons.

Her three godmothers hadn’t allowed her up from the table without supervision the entire night so Rory was forced to find entertainment in watching the other guests.

Rory’s shoes kept pinching her feet and her dressed itched. She longed to change out of the uncomfortable formal wear but her godmothers had forbidden her from even loosening the tight bodice of her dress. Sweat stung her armpits and the sickly sweet smell of wine permeated the warm room.

There was a door that led outside just to her left.

She only needed a few seconds of distraction to slip away from her guardians’ watchful eyes and slip out into the cool night air. Her chance came when the massive cake was wheeled out. The king and his new queen took their place next to the five-tiered monstrosity and, for a few minutes, all eyes were on them.

Rory made her escape.

As soon she was out of sight of the party she slipped off her horrid pinchy shoes and hurled them deeper into the garden. Her hair pins were next, pulled out without any care. Rory dropped them haphazardly as she wandered through the flowers. Finally, her curls sprang free of their confinement and the blood rushed back to her scalp.

She was about to start on her clothing when a voice interrupted her.

“Aren’t you Leah’s niece?” Rory spun around. The little prince stood in a patch of moonlight holding one of her tossed slippers. Rory paled. She had thrown her shoes at a prince and now he was probably going to tell her godmothers. The prince cocked his head to one side thoughtfully, a small tuft of hair falling in his eyes as his did so.

“Aurora, right?” She shook her head vigorously.

“You must have me confused with someone else.” She crossed her arms protectively over her stomach.

“Aren’t you supposed to be with your three aunties?”

“They are my godmothers, actually.”

Phillip smiled slyly. The soft little grin looked cute on his boyish face.

“So you are the little princess, then,” Phillip said, calmly triumphant. Rory was caught in her lie. Also, she wasn’t certain that her Aunt’s marriage made her technically a princess. Instead of responding, she crossed her arms again, screwing up her nose.

“Then again,” the prince continued, flipping the dainty slipper in his hands. “A princess wouldn’t be walking around in the mud barefoot.” Rory glanced down at her feet. They hem of her fancy dress was dipped in mud where it had trailed along the ground and she could feel the cool sludge oozing up between her toes. She hid her feet with the hem of her dress, embarrassed.

“My shoes were squishing my toes,” she explained in a small voice. She stared at the ground and dug a small furrow in the mud with her newly freed toes.

“That explains everything,” the prince said, reasonably. He tossed the shoe into a bush. Rory peaked up at the smiling boy, keeping her head faced towards the ground. She returned his wide grin with a shy one of her own.

“Personally, it’s the shirts that bother me.” Rory noticed that Phillip had removed the thick piece of silk that had been tied around his neck and tucked it out of the way into his pants. She giggled a little, pleased at the boy’s attentions. It occurred to her that he was probably in the garden for the same reason she was; to escape the party.

A flash of light and shouting interrupted them.

“Who’s out here?” a man, probably a guard, shouted. The two children froze. Bushes rustled as the man came closer.

“Run!” Phillip half hissed, half shouted. He grabbed Rory’s hand and they took off the the opposite direction of their hunter, muffling their giggles.

Hope you like it, what do you think of Phillip?

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