It all started with a hug. A hug caused by the cold weather. We went on a long journey together. Hiding, running, and sharing the fear of every moment that passed by. The fear that we would get caught. Well, we do. The tortures, the beatings, and the whippings, all the hurting words they gave us. But, after a while. Just to be near the air he's in or near, was all that was needed to heal me. Just his touch on my skin, a huge smile would appear. And near the end. When there were no more tortures, there was no more him, to help me breath this life. This story wont be like so many of Leonardo Da Vinci's paintings; so many unfinished. And it will definitely not be like any of Shakespeare's stories; all tragic. I will not let it. And I know he wont either.


2. 2

Victoria sat on her bed, so sad no Princess has ever been. There was a knock on her open door. She turned around and to her relief it wasn't the King or the Queen. But, it would be as annoying if it were her brother, Charlie.

"Your majesties, your Royal Highness is waiting for you at the hall." One of the maids, Milena, informed.

Victoria sighted and stood up. Giving a slight smile to Milena at the door, the maid returned the act. There were three halls and the Royal Hall was only used in important occasions. Victoria walked down the stairs and to the hall with the long table that only one thirds of a portion served breakfast. She took her usual seat with her father on her left, on the head of the table and, in front of Charlie and her mother. Two maids were standing like statues under the far corner of the shade of the wide stairs. Forever forgotten, and still. Their heads down, dreading not to make a noise. 

"Oh, yes dear. Where have you been?" George asked, putting down his newspaper on the table, which he only took glances and searched for anything about the Royal's.

"Oh! Well, never mind. Your mother has surely, already told you about the dinner this evening?" He asked. 

"Yes. But, father-" Victoria said. 

"And you will use this time wisely to get to know James." George went on.

'Father-, can we delay?" 

"Oh, buy why?" He asked, concerned now.

"I'm not quiet ready." She said, shyly. 

"Ha-ha!" He chuckled. "Darling, you will never feel ready. And miraculously, even if you do, one day feel ready, it will be when the two of you are old and crooked." He went back to 'exploring' the newspaper.  

Victoria looked down at her plate, playing around with a fork with the 'stuff' that was on her plate. Her parents seemed so calm and in mood. It felt like they were ignoring everything. They didn't get mad, even to Charles.  

"Haha hahah hahha hahha! Victoria is scared to marry a guy!" Charles made fun of Victoria now. 

"Shut up!" Victoria kicked his skinny leg under the table with anger.

"Ow!" He yelled.

"No! Don't even dare to kick me back!" Vic warned.

"Enough! You do not kick a young lady." Mother said.

"But, she kicked me first!" Charles protested.

"There must have been a reason why she kicked you, and you know exactly what it is. And you don't kick back a girl even if she's your sister. Understood?" Mother said, simply looking on the table and eating her boiled egg.

"Yes, Ma'am." Charles mumbled.  

You may not believe it but, the Royal's children most often had the most learning on etiquette than any other child in the world. But, somehow they are still the worst children with lack of etiquette. 

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