&The Stable Boy&[Part One]

Princess Katrine Rebecca Anne Clover, or Clover for short, remembered running around with the stable boy. It had been totally forbidden, but he was like her best friend. He had been, at least. She remember being only seven years old and sneaking out of the castle's grounds, there was a crack in the wall small enough for her to fit through, and she'd run towards the town. That's where she'd meet the stable boy, who's name was Mattew Gregory Owl, or as she called him, Owl. Her and Owl would go up to the loft, sit in the hay and just talk. Sometimes they'd play games, and other times they'd run around. But mostly they talked little-kid-talk-with-big-dreams and this went on a month before Clover's mother started to get suspicious. Sadly, Clover hadn't notice her mother follow her out, through the crack. If she had, it'd saved them both the trouble they'd gotten in. Clover's mother was horribly mad at Clover, who hadn't seen the big deal. She'd been forbidden to see Owl, who looked heart broken. Clover knew she was, and she vowed not to let her mother or anyone else stop her. She wouldn't go and see him everyday, instead, it'd be only twice a month. Once she made a date with him, she never broke it. Her mother hadn't known from when Clover was eight until she was thirteen, that Clover had still been going to see "the disgraceful, dirty stable boy of all people!". Clover and Owl had gotten really close over those years, and one night, Clover tapped softly on the wooden door. If she'd known this was the last time she'd be seeing Owl, she'd given him everything she had. However, she hadn't known that. So, when they went up to sit in the hay like normal, she could tell he was torn.

"What?" she asked, her voice soft so it wouldn't carry, "What's bothering you, Owl?"

"It's nothing," Owl said, his voice just as soft. Then he looked up at her, his eyes dark and sad, and he whispered, "I'm moving."

"What?" Clover almost yelled, but she caught herself. She stared at Owl and asked, "What? Why? Don't leave me. Please."

"I must. Da wants me to. Besides, like Da says, it's time to move on, to become more than peasants." Owl told her, nodding. She watched as a piece of his thick black hair fell in front of his eyes. She brushed it away, tears in her eyes. Owl whispered, "Don't be sad, Cloves. Be happy. I'm going to become something important. So maybe, when I come back, I won't be a small peasant anymore. I'll be important."

Clover did not however, look at it like that. She started to bawl like a little baby, which made Owl feel much better. He'd be missed by the Princess. That, in itself, was another reason to stay. Minus his growing affection for her, he wrapped his arms around him. She cried softly into him, begging him not to go. But he told her he must leave. She didn't want to believe him, but somehow, she knew she'd see him again.

"Promise me, please, that you'll come back. You'll visit me one day." Clover begged him, her eyes lowering and he watched her failed attempts to dry her eyes.

"I promise," he whispered, "cross my heart and hope to die."

"Okay," she sniffed, feeling a bit better. Owl was a person who liked to keep his promises, so she trusted him. She believed him.

That was when she was twelve, now she was seventeen, trapped in a satin gown, laying in the middle of a grassy field. She wished he hadn't left her. She remembered going back to the stables every night for two months, not getting caught once, and he was never there. She'd cried herself to sleep over him. He was her best friend, her only true friend, in fact. She rolled over and sat up. Those were the days, she thought sadly. Now, she was supposed to be at her mother's tea party, but she decided not to show instead. Her mother would be mad, yes, but it wouldn't make Clover care anymore. She didn't care about anything anymore, it seemed. She stood up after a moment, she'd rather be late then to hear her mother's rant, truth be told. She glanced at her reflection in the still pond. Her big blue eyes stared back at her, her curly blonde hair falling beside her pale, smooth face. She sighed, glancing down at her dress. Holding her skirt of her dress up in her hands, she made her way back towards the castle walls, away from the field by a certain stable.

"How dare you be late!" her mother screamed after every guest had left. Clover sat on her bed, mildly annoyed, not caring. Her mother glared at her and said, "You know what? I got two letters from your teacher too! Have you been skipping school, Missy? Or do they have the wrong address?"

Clover glanced up at her up-tight, all-about-rules mother. She blinked, her pale eyes trying to take in what her mother was saying. Finally, Clover rolled off her bed, and stood up. She stood a good three inches higher than her mother. Looking down at her mother's deep tanned skin, big bright brown eyes, with her curly brown hair, Clover said, "So, what if I have? It's not like I care."

At that, her mother screamed at her somemore, obvisiously furious. But Clover walked out of the house, the one she didn't feel she belonged to anymore, and left her mother to cry about her "failed daughter". Did it matter, Clover wondered to herself, her mother had two other perfect daughters, and a perfect son too. So what did it matter if she failed one daughter? Clover rolled her eyes, getting up on her horse from her stable. She didn't know what to think anymore. Looking down at her horse, Sparkle, she'd named her after the sparkle she'd seen once long time ago in Owl's eyes. She couldn't describe the odd feeling she had about Owl. It was odd, in the least, she thought, because she'd kept her mind off him for ages, and suddenly, he was all she could think about. Telling Spark, as she called her horse for short, to pick up the pace, she prayed Owl was doing alright somewhere. She closed her eyes for the breiefess second, and then opened them. The cool air cut against her face, it felt nice. She leaned closer to Spark without thinking.

Finding herself, once again for the second time that day, in front of the stables, she looked down. Wrapped around her ankel was her "safety pouch" of coins. She decided that Spark needed some new horse shoes. Not only because Spark did need them, but also because she wanted to go in the stable. She slid off Spark as if she did it everyday, which she did. She peeked in, the barn door was shut. Knocking, she wondered if she was going insane. An old gruff man answered the door. He looked oddly familiar to Clover. Seeing "The Princess" standing in front of him must have startled him, because he stumbled backwards, his eyes wide.

"Hello," she said, cheerfully and putting her biggest smile on, "I'm Clover, well, Princess--whatever. I was just wondering if you could change Sparkle's horse shoes. She's been in discomfort since our palace shoeman put new ones on. I want the best for the best horse, despite what my mother thinks, I figured you probably were."

"Yes, yes, ma'am. Not a problem," he said, bowing, smiling from ear-to-ear, he added, "I thank you, me Lady."

This was something Clover was, sadly, used to. But she shook her head and said, "No thanks needed. And it is Clover, if you don't mind. Ma'am and me Lady make me sound so..."

"I understand completely," he said, grabbing Spark's reins carefully. Clover let them fall into his hands, and she followed him into the stables. As he got to work, she looked around. Oddly, nothing had changed from the last time she'd been in here, yet everything felt different. All she had to do was look up to feel sick. She looked away, and decided to watch the horseshoe man at work. He was careful, she noted, and he talked soothingly to the horse.

About half-hour later, "Hey, Uncle Nick, I'm home!" a voice came, which made Clover perk up. It had been awfully quiet for a while. She looked around, trying to find the owner of the voice.

"Come in here, boy. Meet your Princess, I mean, Clover." the man, whom Clover gathered as Nick, said. She blushed, and mouthed, 'Thanks'. He nodded.

Suddenly, a door opened, a door Clover had never noticed before, and she was staring at hands-down the most handsomest guy she'd ever seen. She swallowed, a lump slowly grew in her throat. He stood tall, he looked like a hard-worker, a farmer almost, yet smart and sophiscated. His hair was scruffy, thick and black, and his eyes were deep. He was wearing what a doctor might wear.

"Hello," he said, cheerfully. He bowed and said, "It's a pleasure, me Lady."

"Hi," she croaked out, and then recovering quickly, she said, "None of that please, I'm just here to get my horse's shoes re-done."

"None of what, miss?" he asked, all innocently. She wanted to laugh, but she held back. Smiling, because it seemed like if she wanted to be mad, she couldn't even if she tried really hard.

"Miss, me Lady, ma'am, Princess, bowing, being darn right polite," Clover said, smiling, "I'm Clover, and I'm sick and tired of it."

"My name's," he paused and said, softly, "Matthew."

"Nice to meet you," Clover said, hopping down from the hay bale. She took a couple steps towards him, holding out her hand. He flashed her a grin.

Instead of taking her hand, he put his hands on her waist and spun her around. She laughed, because it was fun, and then realized she was a Princess, and that was so not how to handle a situation like that. She couldn't help but try to keep her laughter and grin from breaking free, "What on Earth was that?"

She was back on the ground, and glaring. Matthew noticed that she was trying not to grin, but he shrugged and said, casually, "You said you didn't want me to be polite. That was the rude way of saying, 'Nice to meet you too'."

His eyes sparkled with amusement, and she started to laugh. Playfully hitting him on the shoulder, she said, "Thanks, but that's so not what I meant."

"Oh," he said, with a shrug, "did you mean we could go out sometime?"

She laughed and said, her voice suddenly soft, "I can't. My mother's a freak and she'd have you hunted."

It was his turn to laugh, and then be serious, "What if I'm a really good hider?"

"Um," Clover said, realizing she hadn't felt more herself since she had Owl by her side. She looked around, remembering how much it hurt to see him leave, to hear him say it, to hear her heart snap. Suddenly, without any warning, she started to cry. She tried to brush her tears away. She turned, looking at Nick, and said, softly, "I'm going for a walk. Will you hold Sparks in a stall if I don't get back right away?"

"What do you think he'd do?" Matthew asked, rolling his eyes, "He'd never leave your horse alone."

"Right, well," Clover said, "bye, see you soon."

She turned to walk out of the stable, with the only memory of Owl's apologizes echoing her mind. She wanted to run back home, but she knew she couldn't. As she walked down the main street, she heard whispers from strangers as she passed people. She fell down on the bench by the fountain called; Never Ending Fountain, which was ironic since it'd run out of water and no longer worked. She closed her eyes. She needed a friend, she needed someone to talk to. There was no one who'd understamd. Owl would've. He understood everything she ever said.

"Hello," a voice came. She flickered her eyes open and saw Matthew from the stables standing in front of her. She blinked nad he sat beside her, saying, "Everything okay, Princess?"

The way he said 'Princess' almost made her think it was a nickname, not due to the fact that she was a Princess. She shook her head, and suddenly found herself crying on Matthew's shoulder, in public. If her mother ever found out that she broke down in public to a total stranger, it'd be "off with her head". And she wasn't smiling when she thought about this.