1709, Lorewell

      "Miss, Master Rafael has returned !" Rosie exclaimed loudly as she burst into the room, face flushed and red, eventhough it was snowing heavily outside.

Catarina, who was laying idly on top of her silken sheet covered bed, with her face slathered with a facial mask made of snail slime and aloe vera, simply nodded and said, "Oh."

     "He brought a friend too, Miss," Rosie hissed, and Catarina raised one of her delicately trimmed brow in intrigue.

      "Oh ?" she murmured, lifting up the sliced cucumber that covered her left eye, while letting the other one be.

       "Which friend is it ? If it's just Alessandro, tell them that I am sick and that I am unable to receive guests as of currently," she mumbled, as it was hard to talk with the mask on.
 
       "I think it's that man from before, during the last night at the academy, Sebastian !" Rosie beamed cheerfully. Catarina shook her head, raising her left hand, and gestured 'no' to Rosie.

          "Actually it's Bastien, not Sebastian," she corrected snootily as she gently placed the sliced cucumber  back on her eyelid, smiling smugly. "Wait, Bastien is here," she suddenly gasped.

           "Yes, Miss. That is exactly what I have been trying to tell you," Rosie replied, a hint of annoyance lacing her voice.

Catarina abruptly sat up, sending the cucumber slices off flying, and the facial mask began to drip down her chin, and it looked like as if her face was melting. "He's already here and I'm looking like this ! Quick, fetch dress number 54!"

            "Are you talking about the pink flowered robe a l'anglais with the silk ribbons and tight bodice and large cuff sleeves ?" Rosie cried out as she ventured into the closet.

           "No Rosie, that is number 32! Number 54 is the yellow robe a l'anglais with chartreuse stripes, laced bodice and extra large sleeves !" Catarina hastily corrected as she haphazardly slipped her white stockings on.

Exactly thirty minutes later, Catarina was standing in front of the mirror, wearing the immaculate dress number 54, her glossy black hair coiffed into a delicate updo.

           "Miss, don't you think that we should go downstairs now?" Rosie interjected, frowning at the sight of her mistress admiring herself in the mirror.

As she turned around, Catarina flashed a bright, almost blinding smile for Rosie, and shook her head.
 
     "It's perfect, Rosie. I look so beautiful that I can't bear to look away from the mirror."

Rosie sighed and walked towards the door. "I'll just tell Lord Bastien that you can't receive guests then. That you're gravely ill."
     Sick in the head, she would like to add, but of course she did not dare to.

          "Wait, I'm coming!" Catarina yelped, hastily stepping away from her bronze mirror and grabbed her folding fan.
           "Come to think of it, Miss, why did you insist to dress up today? It's just Master Bastien, not the Prince," Rosie questioned.

           "Now Rosie, my mother's principle in life is that we must look beautiful and presentable at all times, and I need to uphold that," the raven haired girl declared virtuously while laying the tip of her folding fan at her chin.

            "In case you've forgotten, Miss, we were both wearing dirty clothes when we saw him that night, and your hair was full of cobwebs. Besides, you aren't the type of person who holds onto principles, Miss."

Catarina's cheeks flushed red in an instant, and she wordlessly chuckled. To tell the truth, Rosie was right. There was indeed another reason why Catarina dressed up so nicely today.

From the very beginning of the holidays, she had been daydreaming about the handsome Mister Bastien and his curly light brown locks, which she imagined to be very fluffy and soft.

Now, Catarina had seen a fair amount of attractive men during her lifetime, primarily her cousin Rafael, and no one ever came close to beating him, not even Bastien himself.

It was not only Catarina who felt this way, since every woman who had eyes would feel the same.

However, there was something about Bastien that drew her to him despite not being as good looking as Rafael. To clarify, Bastien was not ugly at all, and with all honesty he was quite the looker, but when compared to the tall, olive skinned lad with rich black curls and sea green eyes, perhaps he might be a bit plain.
   
     While she acknowledged this fact, she was still oddly infatuated with this mysterious man whom she had only met once.  Catarina wondered whether it was his warm amber eyes or his sweet, humble smile.

As she descended the stairs, she saw the familiar mop of light brown hair, and her heart fluttered. There he stood at the bottom of the staircase, wearing robes of gold, and his curly hair had become longer, almost covering his ears at this point.

          "My Lady Catarina," he greeted gracefully, and the red-faced girl returned his greetings, hastily covering her face with the topaz yellow folding fan to conceal her embarrassment.

         "I thought you came here with my cousin...?" Catarina said softly, although her voice came out muffled instead, since she covered her face with the fan.

           "Yes, I did. He invited me over for dinner, to be exact, but when we arrived, we found the kitchen deserted."

           "Ah, I sent the kitchen staff home for the holidays. They'll return tomorrow morning," Catarina said as-a-matter-of-factly. She glanced at the travel worn young man in front of her, and frowned in pity.

          "Poor you, you must be starving. Since there are no cooks left, I'll cook for you instead. Can't let a guest starve, can we?"

The young man chuckled as he followed her to the kitchen. "I am very lucky indeed, it seems, to be able to taste your cooking."

Rosie rolled her eyes at him, and said, "My mistress has never even held a pan in her entire life, so I wouldn't call you lucky."

Julian's eyebrows rose, and even though he tried to deny it, he indeed felt the sense of impending doom.

     Once in the kitchen, Catarina was at a loss of words upon seeing the rows of silver pans and pots and instruments that she had never laid her eyes on before, but her immense pride told her to not let him know that she, in fact, could not cook to even save her life.

           "What would you like to eat, Mister Bastien ? I suppose we do have some venison, don't we, Rosie ?" she asked, smiling widely.

           "The butcher is also on leave, Miss, so we don't have any meat at all. Alas, he left his cleaver behind, so you can chop off the head of a lamb yourself, if you want to, that is."

            "Eggs it is!" Catarina declared as she lifted up the cloth that covered the eggs basket.

       Julian smiled thinly as he stood behind the young lady, observing as she picked up the eggs from the basket. "I'm quite fond of eggs, milady," he says, but his face contorted with confusion when he saw Catarina putting the pan on the stove, dropped a dollop of butter into the pan, where it scorched and burnt immediately, and then she placed three whole, perfectly intact eggs into the pan.

Proudly, she put a lid over to pan to let the eggs cook, then she turned around to see the horrified expressions on Julian and Rosie's faces.

          "Miss, you're supposed to crack the eggs!" Rosie hissed in exasperation.

          "Oh, I forgot," Catarina said casually, as she put the lid aside, grabbed a wooden spatula and hit the eggs with it, causing the egg whites to leak through the cracks.

Julian, who had been quietly watching at the sidelines, could remain silent no longer.
       "It is alright, Lady Catarina, I am not very hungry." A single drop of sweat trickled down his forehead, and he became certain that if he put Catarina's concoction into his mouth, he would spend the next week or two locked in the washroom.

         "Hush, Mister Bastien, it is almost done already," Catarina said with the sweetest smile as she removed the egg shells by hand with Rosie's aid. "Oh, I forgot to season it. What do people usually put in fried eggs, Rosie ?"

         "Salt and pepper, Miss," Rosie whispered back, and Catarina nodded in understanding as she picked up a jar that contained fine white granules, not bothering to taste it first, and dumped two full tablespoons of it onto the eggs.

She then opened the drawers, revealing an assortment of herbs and spices.
While had no idea what pepper looked like, she had a refined sense of smell.    
      The black and tiny withered looking seeds smelled like pepper the most, so she grabbed a handful and sprinkled them on top of the eggs.

           "Now, Mister Bastien, would you mind making yourself comfortable at the kitchen table while I serve this dish ? Rosie, please fetch the finest plate we have," Catarina ordered, proudly stirring the burnt bits of what could have been a chicken.

The concoction she had made was burnt in some part, while in other parts it was completely raw and yellow. She had served it in a marvelous golden plate, but the opulence of the dish it was served in made the eggs look even more pathetic.

             "I've never cooked before this, but I think I might be a genius at this," Catarina declared as she put the dish in front of a sweating Julian.

The young man was contemplating if he should ask for bread and cheese instead, but seeing Catarina's anticipative and hopeful face, he knew he had to taste it either way.
       With a shaky hand, he scooped up a very tiny portion of the eggs, and reluctantly put it in his mouth.

            "It is very sweet," he chuckled awkwardly, holding back the urge to gag.

            "Oh, I must've put in sugar instead of salt," she said nonchalantly. "But it is good, right? Oh my, I might've invented the newest delicacy, sweet eggs!"

While Catarina was happily praising herself, Julian wondered if his bestfriend's cousin might be crazy. Subconsciously, he put another spoonful of the eggs into his mouth, and immediately a loud crunch resounded.

At first, Julian thought that he had chipped his tooth due to how burnt the eggs were in some parts, but he would later learn that it was a sliver of eggshell that had been left behind.

        "Ooh, is it nice and crunchy ? I do adore the crispness of freshly plucked red apples. What does the crispy egg taste like ?"

Absolutely diabolical, Julian wanted to say, but her blindingly bright smile prevented him from doing so. You cannot scold a smiling person, ever. It is an unwritten rule that everyone must abide by.

           "It is something new," he admitted. "I've never taste something like this before."

Indeed, he was telling the truth. Julian had really never tasted something so disgusting, so unpalateable, but he kept forcing himself to continue eating it.

            "I think if I train more in cooking, I might become a connoiseur," Catarina giggled. "I have a very good taste indeed."

Indeed, indeed. Rafael's cousin is indeed crazy, Julian thought. And then finally, a miracle occurred in Julian's life. His dear best friend, Rafael returned with two cooks in tow, and Julian abruptly stood up, completely ignoring the existence of the 'sweet eggs'.

            "You came back to me," he said, almost in tears as he recalled the awful sweet, crispy eggs he had to consume, and upon seeing the round, greasy face of one of the cooks, his heart instantly felt at ease.

             "Of course I came back," Rafael scoffed. "I live here, in case you've forgotten."
His blue-green eyes then flickered towards his cousin Catarina, who was obviously staring at them, her face lit up with curiosity.

              "Ah, Nina! I see you've met the Prince!" he said as Catarina walked towards them, and her smile widened even more as she turned towards Julian and said, "It's the mama's boy, Bastien. I've told you that before."

              "Bastien ?" Rafael repeated, glancing at his best-friend suspiciously. "You've met him before, Nina ?"

Catarina nodded enthusiastically. "He was loitering in the halls back at the academy, but we both share the mutual hatred for Marguerite le Prince, so we are best friends now."

Rafael buried his face in his hands, contemplating whether he should throw Julian out of the house or not, and if he would get arrested for doing so.

              "Where's the Prince, Rafael ? Bastien here would love to meet him," Catarina said innocently.

Oh Catarina, you sweet summer child, Rafael thought, his eyes flickering from his poor cousin to his sniggering best friend.
        "You're looking at him, Nina," he eventually said, and Catarina's expression morphed from confusion to shock, her eyes becoming as wide as saucers.

           "This ?" she squeaked, pointing a finger in Julian's direction. "This is the Prince ?"

Never in her short lifetime had she felt so much shame and embarrassment, and Catarina felt as if she had no face left to show.

She glanced at the Prince, who smiled at her fondly and tenderly, as if he were amused by her antics, and all of a sudden, her embarrassment disappeared. Instead, there was rage.

            "Your Highness," she greeted sarcastically, her words dripping with venom. "If I had known that the god be damned Crown Prince was visiting my humble abode, I would have treated you accordingly."

             "No, not at all, Lady Catarina," Julian deflected. "I prefer that you treat me as if I were your equal, not as a prince. You were very entertaining and amusing."

Now, Julian intended to say that he enjoyed Catarina's company, but the wrong words slipped out of his mouth unexpectedly, but what ensued later was quite expected though.

           "Entertaining ? Amusing ?" Catarina scoffed loudly and indignantly, rolling her eyes in disbelief. "What do you think I am ? A bird in a cage ? I will not be reduced to a mere amusement for you!"

Catarina's temper was quite explosive, but once she let it out, her anger disippated immediately. Both the Prince and her cousin were staring at her, wide-eyed, but of course she had no intention, nor the nerves, to look at them.

             "I... I will take my leave first," she said hastily while retreating as fast as she could, lifting up the brocade skirt of dress number 54 so that she could run faster.

Eventhough she had calculated her movements well, luck was not on her side. For a reason unbeknownst to us all, she tripped and fell flat on the ground only a few feet away from Julian and Rafael.

The ever benevolent Crown Prince had offered her a helping hand, but of course the prideful girl ignored him and stood up by herself, rushing quickly towards the staircase.

Once the little spitfire had vanished from sight, Julian turned towards his best friend with a chuckle of amusement. "You should have introduced her to me before."

              "Nina can be quite temperamental at times, and I don't even want to know what she fed you earlier. But she has a good heart, truly. I hope you wouldn't tell your mother that she tried to give you food poisoning.

Julian brushed him off, still staring at the direction Catarina went off to. "No, of course I won't. She is lovely-- your cousin. She truly is lovely."