Lost! [King Henri]

[vanessa]

The streets of Paris were quite busy in the early afternoons, and today was no exception. Men and women went about their daily business, and children ran about chasing each other. No one noticed the young girl roaming among them, wearing a pretty but plain green and yellow dress, her long blonde ringlets held back by matching ribbons. Nor did they notice the panicked expression on her face, the way she looked up at each person she passed as if searching for someone in particular, or the tears sparkling in the corners of her eyes.

Vanessa stopped beneath the awning of a store, biting her lower lip in consternation. Her heart pounded in her chest and she was more frightened than she had been since the day she had watched her parents killed in front of her eyes. When she had asked her uncle to take her into Paris, she had never thought they would be separated. She had dropped his hand and wandered a few steps away from him to look into the window of a bakery that displayed sweet pastel confections that made her stomach growl in anticipation. She had turned around to ask him if he would buy her something, but he had not been behind her … or anywhere else in sight. Since then, she had been desperately looking for him, and she knew he must be looking for her as well … and worried that something would happen to her. Vanessa did not want to cause him any distress. He had been so good to her since her parents had died.

She listened for the sound of her name, assuming he would call for her, but all she heard was the voices and laughter of the crowd, and occasional shouts of children. Two boys ran by her, tossing a ball back and forth between them, their dirty faces washed in smiles. Vanessa looked after them longingly, wishing that she, like them, had not a care in the world … that she was back with her uncle and happily munching on the sweets she knew he would have bought her. Instead, she was lost and confused and alone, one little girl adrift in a churning sea of humanity. How would she ever find her uncle among so many people?

Eyes wide and heart fluttering, she left the shade of the awning and continued her search. She had no idea how long she had been walking, but her feet were starting to hurt and her legs were getting tired. And she was hungry as well. The young girl had not eaten since she had left the camp this morning.

Up ahead, she saw a man who walked with a familiar gait, but he disappeared into the crowd before she could tell if it was her uncle or not. Vanessa hurried after him, more intent on locating him again than on where she was going. She darted across the street right in front of a moving carriage, and only the driver's bellowing for her to watch out saved her from being trampled to death. Vanessa leapt out of the way, but lost her balance and sprawled upon the ground, her ankle twisted painfully beneath her. She tried to stand, but found that she could not put any weight on it.

Lowering herself back into a sitting position, she blinked back the tears that were threatening to spill down her cheeks. Now what was she going to do? How could she find her uncle if she couldn't even walk?

[HENRI D'ARTOIS]

[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;]943 WORDS FOR Vanessa Notes here: Your personal knight in shining armor here - sorry this post took so long!. RESCUE [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;]Henri budged out of the way rather unskillfully stepping off the curb in a hurry as he dodged someone who had just knocked him rather unthoughtfully in the ribs with an elbow and the person's companion barely missed his head. It was a crowded afternoon and people were out in force being that it was Saturday early in the afternoon when a lot of people were out visiting, walking, doing their shopping, or otherwise occupied in the streets. Henri wasn't entirely used to nearly being knocked around the head by people's elbows or backed into as had happened several times today. Most of the time, when he was out in the city, he was used to people paving a way for him through the crowd, curtsying or bowing and saying "Your Majesty." Well.. here at least. Of course, it wouldn't have been the same expectation in Naples or anywhere else in the world.. It certainly wasn't that his time as king had gone to his head or anything like that - he just knew what to expect of the Paris denizens. It meant a lot of bowing and scraping, half of which he didn't need, most of which he didn't want, and the majority of which the people probably resented. Trips into the city in his usual manner were an excellent reminder that the people of France desperately needed a change.. a big change. They had, somewhere along the line, fallen off track. There was a problem when the people in charge of power had become so corrupt that all they cared about was which side their own bread was buttered on and how they could get the most for themselves: The most of everything - food, glory, promotions, housing.. and to hell with everyone else. Especially, Henri thought stiffly, if those someone else's were ordinary working class citizens without a say or vote or anyway to express their displeasure. It was as if people thought that being born poor made you unworthy of a say in how your own country was being ran despite that you had been born and raised there just the same as anyone else. It must be a terrible feeling. It ws a feeling Henri was starting to think he had some empathy for ever since he'd started to understand that the Chouannerie's choosing of him as their king was much less honor and much more convenience - convenience for them anyway. He had little say in how his country was being run too - and he was supposed to be the king of it. People would laugh if they realized how little control I actually have. Henri thought to himself as he jostled his way for purchase on a tiny part of the sidewalk so he didn't have to keep stepping halfway onto the cobblestones and halfway onto the curb. At that moment, a particularly insistent shoulder backing up caught him in the temple leading to a muttered oath from the boy - though not loud enough to be heard. It was times like this that made him glad he took the opportunity on a regular basis to see Paris in different eyes than he saw it when 'King Henri' was out. It wasn't uncommon for him to borrow the dress of someone unimportant and take the fresh air in the city - either with a purpose or not. Sometimes he borrowed the garb of a kitchen servant - though those days were usually unpleasant as he was often times yelled at and ordered away or even cursed at. Other times, he adopted the dress of a lower aristocrat. He was looking forward to a time when he could pretend to be a student. However, he wasn't quite old enough for that yet - it still didn't look believeable. Someday soon it might though. There were other disguises he took too once in a while. He loved being out in the city totally alone. It was an exhilerating rush of euphoria that the thirteen year old felt knowing he was surviving on his own wits and knowledge and that no one was having preconceived notions about him because of his title, station or etc.. - at least not the same ones that they'd have if he presented himself in his true form! Today, he'd been to various bookstores to replenish his supply of books, and the purchases he'd made weighted down his satchel comfortably. He wasn't dressed as an urchin today, but rather in the clothes of one of his friends - tasteful, decent looking, but untoward and not the sort to draw attention to him. It was at that moment that, from somewhere, he heard a shout. A pained shout. He looked around just in time to screw his eyes shut as a girl narrowly missed being smashed by a horse and carriage and then twisted her ankle as she fell to the cobblestones. He forced his steps into a jog as soon as the carriage had passed and was her side in a moment. Henri's mother had certainly taught him good manners and how he should act around women - and helping out a girl who needed it was definitely part of the code of ethics that she and Ettore Carlo had engraved upon his mind. He hadn't forgotten it even in three years apart from them. That way tears lie though, and he quickly jerked his thoughts back to the present in Paris and away from the family he'd had little contact with. "Excusé-Moi. You.. look like you could.. use a little help. I'm Henri." He said, pleasantly, as he knelt down beside her. [/style]

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