I had done this two already, and I wanted to prove you guys wrong about our ero-oyaji, heheheheh. I'll put the last part of this up later, I'm just editing it.

I was happy that General Brennan listened

to me, but as soon as I was showing him the necklace, the carriage rocked hard

and I was flying.

Heep!

I sounded like a smashed frog, but

I tried to swallow the sound. I need to ask mother how to scream in a lady like

manner when next I get the chance and I have to master it quickly!

But I didn’t hold on to anything.

I fell on something hard.

I could feel two hands on my waist,

solid.

A teasing unknown scent hit my

nose.

How refres.h.i.+ng. The smell of soap

and an earthy smell; like a green forest. (Zuben: He thinks your eyes are like

a forest, she thinks he smells like a forest. Made for each other TM!)

I looked up right into hazel eyes.

He looked a bit awkward. What a strong looking nose…I want to touch it.

‘Hmm?’

I was held by the General the moment

the carriage rocked and sent me flying. And now, I am sitting a half way onto

the General’s lap.

What is this miracle?

While trying to hold my balance, it

seems I wrapped my arms around the General’s neck. I quickly took my hands off,

and checked myself.

‘It’s a bit

unsteady.’ He said over my head, holding my waist closer and tighter as the

carriage rocked again.

 ‘Heek!’

Oh no! Not another strange scream?

Well he suddenly held unto my waist tight, it couldn’t be helped, right?

‘…’ was all the sound the general

made. He turned and I could see a blush across his face and ears.

A strange tension filled the air.

The carriage stopped, and the

coachman came over to the door.

‘I’m sorry, sir, we went over a few

stones. Are you alright?’

The General cleared his throat and

said, ‘We’re alright. You can continue.’

A little while the carriage rocked

gently as the coachman got on and we were on our way again.

I should get off the General’s knee

now, but, I felt like I couldn’t move or say anything. I was listening to the

carriage wheels rattle on the stone paved road.

But even the General doesn’t seem

to want to let me off. Letting me sit on his lap, didn’t his leg hurt, or numb?

I should get off soon,

‘General Brennan. I must be heavy.

I should sit down now.’

It isn’t a problem of lightness, it

was impolite to be sitting on someone’s lap and embarra.s.sing.

However, General Brennan didn’t

seem to be bothered. I thought he would let me go,

‘You’re really

not heavy.’ He said looking down at me, it was nice that he finally looked at

me but he looked at me like he wanted was hungry for some…thing…but isn’t he

going to put me down?            ‘It will not be good if you fell if

we run over another stone.’

But the General looked thoughtful

for a moment, then picked me up so I was sitting with my legs on the carriage

seat.

‘So my leg doesn’t get numb.’

His face was still a little red.

‘Yes…’ I replied in a mosquito like

voice.

There was no way I could argue. 

I had been nervous sitting across

from the General in the carriage earlier. But now, I was sitting on his lap.

One hand held me at my back and his other hand held my left hand. It was

impossible to move. It couldn’t be helped. I had no choice but to try and relax

and unclench my b.u.t.t cheeks. [1]

The places where his warm hands

rested were tingling. I wanted him to release me, yet I wanted his hands on me

still. I don’t know what to do; I’m so confused.

In addition, when he talks to me,

his deep voice causes tingles to run down my spine, and I get a sense of

frustration. (Zuben: Jump him!)

Honestly he takes my breath away. I

can’t bear it. No one can blame me. As a Lady, I cannot do anything

embarra.s.sing in front of the General, but I think I will collapse.

With all the thoughts chasing each

other in my head, I peered at the General Volker, he had a smile on his face.

He looked like he was in a good mood I became hesitant about asking him to put

me down.

Maybe he liked to put children on

his knees? My mood plummeted at that thought. Did he really think of me as a

child? But when we first met he addressed me as Lady. Or is it because I was

his friend’s daughter? 『hekon』[1]

I guess

because he sees me as a child that’s why I can sit on his knees, but I cannot

say that he has treated me badly. (Zuben: He wants to eat your tofu!)

I sighed

inwardly.

As I tried to

shake off the negative thoughts, the carriage came to a stop.

The steward

came to the door, ‘We have arrived.’ He announced.

The general

carried me off his knees and put me on the seat. Because I was so nervous, my

b.u.m had gotten a bit sweaty and sticky. The general, on the other hand, did not

look nervous at all. He got off the carriage and held a hand for me to come

down. Once I safely alighted, he tucked my hand in his elbow and escorted me

into the theatre.

Amazingly, I’m

already exhausted.

♢

The grand

foyer of the theatre was filled with people milling about. Gorgeously dresses

ladies and gentlemen chatted and mingled with each other. The scent of a

thousand perfumes filled the air. The theatre could be said to be a microcosm

of society. You could see new fas.h.i.+on trends, hear the latest rumours, and

learn the flow of societal leanings. So when father and mother came to the

play, it wasn’t just about the play.

When I entered

the foyer on the General’s arm, there was a noticeable drop in the din of

conversation before it started again. I could not enjoy the atmosphere, but I

gave a small smile.

You know my

hearing isn’t bad right, you person whispering about me over there, I thought

as we walked past. Most of the people who looked at me were looking rather

derisive, even though I was with General Brennan. (Zuben: gossip folks)

I’m sorry I

have put you in this uncomfortable situation, General.

I wish I could

go home, but I want to see the play. Yet, I don’t want to ruin General Brennan’s

reputation (Zuben: the little kitten wants to protect the bear. Cute!). So I

took a deep breath and began to say,

‘General

Brennan, I…’ but the general put his arm around my waist and pulled me closer,

‘Lady Fredericka,

is your throat dry?’ he asked, ‘Let’s have a drink at the bar before we go in,’

he said with that deep voice, I could only nod like a doll and let myself be

steered away.

The theatre’s

bar was a room with lovely décor; the ambient light was golden and dim. It had

an air of intimacy. Patrons sat close together in their booths speaking in low

tones. A pianist played a soft tune that did not intrude on the atmosphere.

I don’t drink

alcohol much, so I was a bit overwhelmed by the mature atmosphere of the bar.

‘Would you

prefer something sweet?’ he asked.

‘I’m not

sure,’ I replied

I don’t know

much about alcohol, and I don’t have much of a tolerance to it. The general

nodded and asked the bartender for a light fruit c.o.c.ktail. I wonder what kind

of drink it would be.

‘I once had a

sip of my mother’s drink before’ I said to General Brennan, ‘it burned my

throat and made me feel dizzy and weak.’ He chuckled at my story.

The general

seems to be sparkling to me, so beautiful.

Earlier, he

had a dark expression with a murderous intent, but now, his expression was relaxed

and he was smiling. The world faded around us and I could see no one else but

him.

The bartender

placed our drinks before us. His was amber coloured and mine was orange.

‘It’s mostly

juice, but have a little sip just to be sure you like it.’ He said.

As he

instructed, I took a little sip. The first blush was bitterness that made my

tongue numb but immediately a sweet fresh fruity flavour neutralised it.

‘It’s

delicious.’ I said.

The general

smiled widely, his hazel eyes narrowing. I felt my face begin to warm up. Was I

getting drunk? So quick? Am I okay? (Zuben: You are drunk. Drunk on lurrve)

‘Well, well,

well…’

My gaze was

pulled reluctantly from the General by the loud voice that interrupted the

bar’s intimate ambience.

[1] That’s her

depressed moue I guess.

Zuben: The author

was concerned that some readers would be offended by Fredericka drinking

alcohol. Her message is simply: different world-different common sense. My

message to people who might upset by this: you have time o~