Maeve walked along the magical streets of Ribeauvillé. They were nearly painted with glistening snow. It was so mystical and whimsical and dreamy, that Maeve found herself entirely determined to dance in this picture created by God, for the rest of her days! Everything was just so perfect and joyful, and above all there were people! People her age, people younger, elders, and babies, it made her so happy, the only people she’d ever known were the people who served in the castle, Mother, and Father.
As she kept walking her spontaneous smile started to show even more, and just when our dear little Maeve thought everything was perfect she spotted it. Her mother’s favorite and only childhood library. Before her mind could comprehend the image, her legs were off carrying her to its door.
Her awkward but delicate hand laced its fingers around the handle, and with great ease only slightly opened the wooden door. Maeve slid herself through the crack, and quickly shut the creaking door behind her. Her feet nearly stumbled her to the far right, when out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of the very same boy she’d bumped into earlier, and he was standing right before her!
Maeve tried her very hardest not to eavesdrop, but she failed.
A librarian with short, buzzed, curly hair handed the boy a medium sized leather book whose spine read, The Frog and The Fogs. A strange name, but then again weren’t the best ones always strange? The boy nodded with a grateful grin upon his face. “Thank you, Père, it is much appreciated. I have been wanting to read this book for quite some time!”
Père returned the boy’s nod with his own very dignified one. “The pleasure,” he said, turning on his heels, his arms stretched wide in the air. “Is all mine, Archduke Rueben Coller,” Père finished with a dignified bow. The boy—well, Rueben, she supposed—smiled appreciably with a nod and turned to leave.
”Oh!” He said almost immediately, as if he noticed Maeve right away. “Hello again, Mademoiselle Maeve.” His smile shined like the sun, Maeve seemed to notice this boy was always joyful.
“Greetings, Archduke Rueb-“ she seemed to be cut off right away.
”Ren,” he pleaded, his smile nearly fading. “And please no Archduke. I’m simply just a boy near a village.”
Maeve could no longer see where Père had gone; she guessed he was better at not eavesdropping than she was. “Ren,” she replied with a slight nod, “My apologies.” She glanced at the dazzling rose charm on her bracelet. “Um, thank you, thank you very much for the bracelet it is beautiful.”
”Not at all,” Ren replied sweetly, his eyes glistening like a star in the night sky. “A beautiful Maiden deserves something to accompany one’s very own grace.” His words seemed to wiggle their way straight into her heart, and make her eyes slant in reconciliation.
”Uh, thank you, but I do believe one shouldn’t hold me in such high respects after one fair meeting. I’ve only just met you this particular evening!” Our esteemed Maeve remarked wisely. “I suppose against odds, meeting twice in such short time means something, but then again, I barely know your name and title.”
“My deepest apologies. I don’t get out very much, I mostly just study, learn, and train for my to-be title I will inherit someday. I’ve only ever wanted to explore the unknown, unfortunately. Ribeauvillé is that limit, but I’ve never seen you. And yet, with just one meeting I feel as though we both hold a same predicament.” Ren said, his cheerful smile wiped clean off his face.
”I know how you feel,” Maeve sympathized with him, for she too, was confined to inside her castle walls-her castle walls! That was it! “I…before I begin, you must promise to never tell a word of what I’m about to say.” Ren’s caring nod, with his metallic eyes gleaming in recognition, showed Maeve he wouldn’t. “I live in a castle, and, well, I suppose I could bring you along to give you an adventure. An exchange for the bracelet, I suppose?”
Ren’s eyes widened in happiness. He clutched one of Maeve’s hands in both of his. “You live in a castle?” Maeve nodded graciously. “Are you serious, I can come along?” Maeve nodded, yet again, at this response. Ren threw his arms around Maeve’s delicate, tiny frame. “Oh, thank you, Mademoiselle Maeve! I shall never forget this gesture!”
written by Hailey Feuerbach
Part Four