Akira felt the rope inside of her finally snap. She had just about enough of everyone talking down on her mother. Lady Isabella really had the nerve to act like a wild animal, screeching and throwing wine and then talk about her mother? Akira would have to squash her down now, she had no time for petty cat fights amongst drama-inclined noble ladies.

"Lady Isabella", she calmly said. "You just spilt your wine on my dress".

"It was an accident", Lady Isabella replied smugly, her entourage nodding along. "Accidents do happen".

"No, it was not an accident. Excuse me", Akira asked the young man who caught her eye when she first came in. "Was it an accident?"

"No- no- My Lady", he stuttered, flushing red again.

"Well, it was. And if you're going to be so picky, I'll just pay for the dress", Lady Isabella snarked. "It wouldn't be that expensive since your mother probably ran the family coffers dry".

"Is that so?" Akira said innocently. "Since you're so confident, I'll believe you then".

Lady Isabella giggled and nudged a girl behind her as if she had already won.

"I'll send an invoice to your family home", Akira continued, lowering her voice. "I will have you know though that my dress was from an exclusive London boutique and it was tailor-made for me by the designer Raj. I feel terribly sorry for your father".

Lady Isabella paled ever so slightly. "What do you mean?"

"Well, it's no secret that he made a business deal that went downhill and is now struggling to rebuild what he lost", Akira said with a smile. Anyone onlooking would assume Akira was being kind or having a sweet conversation rather than threatening another noble lady. "It's a shame he has such a frivolous and reckless daughter to add to his burdens".

Her mouth dropped open in shock, leaving an unpleasant gaping hole.

"Well, I must change now as my dress is ruined", Akira said dismissively. "Farewell and do close your mouth - you might catch a fly".

As she turned away finally, she heard Lady Isabella sniffle in what she assumed were fake sobs to make people feel sorry for her but she ignored them. Grandmother was staring daggers into her back but she ignored that too.

All eyes were on her as she walked out. All in all, most people were of English nobility. She was something new to them. Something exotic. That paired with her status made her a point of interest. There were a few other non-English people too, mostly the rich and influential but most of them also had some sort of interest in her. Maybe because of her father's business. It was like she was placed on a pedestal for everyone to admire and watch, everyone wanted her for their selfish reasons. She wasn't going to be a trophy wife, granddaughter or friend to any of these people here.

An attendant quickly opened the door for her and she walked out of that stifling, boring ballroom and into the quiet, deserted corridor. She felt hot, unbelievably hot, and her heavy dress only weighed her down even more. Akira gathered her skirts together, made sure no one was looking and strode towards a small exit she noticed.

As the cool air hit her warm face, she began to cool down and her anger slightly subsided. The night was beautiful with a full moon and not a cloud in the sky. The wind was cool but the night was warm, a perfect combination for a midnight stroll. She wasn't usually allowed to go into this wing of the house and it wouldn't hurt to explore it a little whilst she could.

The vintage lamps lit her way as she walked aimlessly allowing her to appreciate the beauty of the night. The stars twinkled brightly above, a sight you would never see in London. The gardens were perfectly manicured and kept, the grass blades swaying ever so slightly in the caressing breeze.

She continued along the pebbled path, inhaling the sweet crisp air, feeling her burdens slowly lessen with every step she took.

In the distance, she heard a faint nickering and her ears perked up. Horses. It had to be. Increasing her pace, she headed in the direction from where she heard the noise and surely enough, a large wooden barn and grassy paddock came to view.

The barn towered over her as she approached, casting a huge shadow and looked big enough to house at least ten stables. The wood was old but well cared for. The door creaked as she opened it and she left it open so that there was some light aside from a dim lamp in the far corner of the stable. As she stepped in, the smell of manure and hay hit her, making her feel right at home. Gosh, the horses were magnificent. Each was well-groomed, their coats shining and their manes untangled and glossy. They seemed to be of pedigree breeds too. Why hadn't Grandmother told her about the horses? Akira loved to ride.

She walked to a large black stallion that caught her eye, ignoring the straw and dirt catching onto her the edge of her already sullied dress.

"Hey, boy", she whispered as he nuzzled his long face against her. Akira scratched the side of his face tenderly, and then fed him some hay from the feeding bay which he gobbled in one big bite. She chuckled and fed him a bit more, smiling at his eagerness.

Then she sighed and leant against the stable door, mulling over what just happened. Twice today her mother was brought up. It seemed everyone assumed her mother was a 'leeching whore' as Lady Isabella said. It was a terribly sexist notion. The man makes the choice but the woman always gets the hate. Not that she hated her father but she hated how everyone including her grandmother saw it as her mother stealing and seducing her father away when in reality, he had a hand to play in it too.

It was weird, knowing that she was engaged and to a Byron no less. Even though she acted like she didn't care to Lady Isabella, she did care. She just wanted to rile her up. There was no way she would allow it to happen.

Akira decided she would even go as far as faking infertility and children were very important in marriages like this. Maybe the Byrons wouldn't want her anymore.

And what about her father's ex? Why was she so smug about Akira marrying her son? Was it her form of revenge?

"Dammit", Akira swore aloud to herself.

"Penny for your thoughts?" A deep voice called out.

Akira whirled around to where the voice came from and could vaguely make out a shape of a man lying amongst the bales of hay in the corner of the room.

"My thoughts are worth far more than that", she bristled, trying to make out who the person was without stepping closer. "And why are you sitting in the dark like some kind of suspicious person? Were you spying on me?"

The man chuckled, a deep laugh that sent shivers down Akira's spine.

"Why would I spy on you when I don't even know who you are, princess?"

"Well, step out", Akira challenged.

"Come closer", he purred.

"Why on Earth would I do that?" Akira replied stubbornly.

"You want to see me more than I want to see you", he laughed and then added. "But it is rude of me to make the princess wait so I suppose I'll come to you then".

"Don't call me that", Akira snapped back.

"Well, I can't really see you but I can see that ridiculously large dress you are wearing. It reminds me of a princess dress".

Akira scoffed and then went silent as the man stood, dusted his clothes and stepped closer towards her.

With the dull light from the lamp and the moonlight from above, she could tell he was a very handsome man. He had a strong nose, thick full lips and heavy dark eyes, the type that would pierce into your soul and read your mind. Thick black glossy locks of hair fell onto his forehead and matching stubble coloured his jawline. He wore a pair of tan breeches and an untucked white shirt which dangerously hugged his toned body but was loose around the neck. His skin was tanned and browned, like he spent his days in the sun and she could see the faint outline of his muscles from his shirt and the skin that peeked out from the opening.

"Finished staring?" He asked cheekily.

"Who are you?" Akira found herself saying.

"A mysterious man", he replied. "Who are you?"

Akira sighed and decided to tell him anyway. "Akira Astley", she said, extending out her right hand.

"I can't say I've heard of you before", he replied as he shook her hand. His hand was surprisingly warm and firm. Firm enough that for a second, Akira did not want to let it go.

"I do not mean to brag but that is quite peculiar".

"Yes, I am probably the peculiar one", he responded with a savage grin. "What happened to your gown, princess?"

"A very upset noble lady decided she would throw a tantrum as well as her wine glass and cause a spectacle".

"Oh, please don't tell me you were fighting over a man", he chuckled. "Who is the lucky fellow?"

Akira stared at him but felt strangely at ease. Like she could tell him anything which was very unlike her normal untrusting self.

"Lord Byron and I would like to say I was not doing the fighting".

He froze when she said that name but quickly returned to his usual coolness, so fast in fact, that Akira thought she imagined it.

"Well, Lady Akira Astley, it appears you are very important", he murmured thoughtfully. He reached out for her hand again, turned it around and placed a lingering kiss on the back of her hand. "A pleasure to meet you".

"And who are you?" Akira demanded, bothered about unbothered she was about him kissing her. She remembered what that idiot at her parent's funeral had kissed her; It was so repulsive feeling his lips, even with a glove on, that she vigorously washed her hands afterwards.

"A nobody", he grinned.

"Nobody is a nobody. Who are you?"

"My name is Oliver", he said.

"Well, why are you here, Oliver?"

"I'm a stable boy. Where else am I supposed to be?"

"You?" Akira asked, surprised. "A stable boy?"

"Yes, I work here".

"Well, that would explain the breeches", Akira mused. "I've never seen you before".

"Neither have I".

"Well, normally I do not come here. Today is an exception because of the ball".

"That's a shame", he whispered.

Akira felt some blood rush to her cheeks and turned to face the black stallion. This was strange. Akira wasn't a snob but all her relationships in the past had been high profile figures. Now she was blushing like a schoolgirl over a mere stable boy.

"Your clothes are very nice for a stable boy", Akira said thoughtfully.

"Well, my style is impeccable", he responded.

"That's not what I meant", Akira said, failing to stifle her laugh.

He winked at her and leaned against the stable door of the black stallion she stood next to. His head tilted back until it was too leaning on the wall leaving Akira a very fine view of his jaw and neck. The warm glow from the lamp highlighted his bronzed skin and as he swallowed, Akira's eyes subconsciously tracked the movement of his Adam's apple.

"For an engaged woman, you sure are flirtatious", he murmured, peering down at her.

"For a stable boy, you are quite audacious", Akira retorted blushing slightly.

Akira quickly turned to face the stallion and busied her hands by stroking along its face.

"Magnificent stallion, isn't it?"

"Yes, it is", she replied.

"Do you ride?"

"Yes, I do".

"Good", he said, looking very satisfied.

"Good?" Akira asked.

"Well, what use is a girl who cannot ride for a stable boy?"

Akira fought hard from keeping the blood from rising to her face.

"Sir, I think you forget, I am an engaged woman".

"Well, do you want to be?"

"No", Akira admitted. "It is an arrangement between the families".

He leant in closer and tucked a stray tendril of hair behind her ear, his warm large hands lingering for a second.

"How fortunate", he whispered in her ear.

"Fortunate for who?" Akira asked, a little throatily.

"Isn't it obvious?" He whispered back.

Akira stared deep into his eyes. His orbs were illuminated by the warm light casting a deeper glow on his irises. They seemed to hold pure fire inside of them, swirling so passionately.

Stop, she told herself.

"No", Akira replied. She took a step back and gave him a little smile. "No, it's not".

He watched her with that same intense look, the one that spoke of unspoken desires so she smiled a little more and turned around.

"Well, Oliver, it was nice to meet you", Akira said. "But it is time for me to go".

"Is it because it is almost midnight?" He asked. "I don't mind if your dress disappears".

"I am no Cinderella", Akira scoffed. "I'm afraid there might be no prince charming for me".

He gave her another look and Akira laughed.

"What about a stable boy charming?" He smirked.

"I suppose I'll have to find out". Akira walked to the stable door and turned, stealing one last look at his beautiful face. "Well, farewell", she said.

"Farewell", he murmured, staring at her angular face.

He watched as she walked off, her green gown fluttering from behind her very much like a real princess. She had this ethereal beauty to her. Something angelic, something majestic.

The stable was quiet and the horses were silent. There was the slightly perceptible noise of a heart beating as he watched her retreating form with a slight smile.

"How interesting", he murmured to himself. "How interesting, indeed".

Well, well. Who do we think about Oliver, our mystery man.

All I could think of was olives everytime I think of Oliver.

Question for today:

Do you like olives (and if not, *gasp*)?

Xx