Tree near a stream

Anne walked over the green grass that lay beside the orange leafed tree, she held a book in one hand and walked over and sat beside the tree, her back to the stream. She sat quietly and listened to the rushing sound of the water and opened her book to the right page and continued on where she left off on the book. She didn't very much like court life, but she knew she would have to get used to it. Breathing in deeply, she sighed. Soon she would have to get a husband, she never much didn't like the sound of that.

I walk about the bank of a lovely pond, looking at the changing colors of the trees, and I cannot help but miss my home...my little Guyot Manor. I picture the little brook that ran beside the wood of the manor, and I remember running to hide, and play with my brothers, and how I used to cry when I could not climb the trees with them.
I cannot help but feel sad, as I remember my nursemaid those days of my childhood, and how she used to sing her Celtic songs.
"Step we gaily on we go, heel for heel and toe for toe, arm in arm and row and row, all for Mairi's wedding," I begin to sing.

I suddenly stop when I come across a man seated near the stream, and I suddenly feel embarassed.

"Pardon me," I mutter, "I can leave if you wish," I begin to leave.

"Alright," I nod and smile. I turn around as not to bother him and stand beside the trees, standing upon my tiptoes to reach the bright orange and yellow leaves, turning with the coming of the fall. I hold for a moment, stretching and suddenly laugh, nervously.
"Pardon, monsieur," I smile and turn to the gentleman, "could I trouble you for a moment?" I point to the leaves, "I fear I am too small to pick these leaves."

I could not help but giggle as he took hold of my waist and I am certain I squirmed a bit as I found myself tickled. "Thank you so very much, monsieur," I laugh. I cannot help but remember the days of my childhood when my eldest brother, Pierpont, would pick me up to reach for the apples in the orchard next to our manor, and how he would always jest that I was far too small to ever be able to reach any tree.
Yet I reached as far I could and began to pick the yellow, red and orange leaves of the trees that at first seemed so very high.
I give another giggle, "thank you, monsieur, I think I have all I need."

I smile and spread the fabric of my gown, curtseying, "my name is Coralie, monsieur Sinclair," I beam. I give a laugh and look at the leaves in my grasp, "I am."
I blush a little, embarassed, “his majesty has given me permission to send for my marionettes, yet I have also asked my brother to make me another.”
I look at the bright red and yellow leaves, “she will be a fairy queen…her crown will be made of leaves,” I blush. “I must sound a bit mad to you,” I laugh.

I give a laugh, "I like to think I am creative...and I am glad you think me not mad."I turn to face him and suddenly my eyes go wide.
“Are you a soldier?” I frown slightly. “My papa was a soldier a while ago, but he still sits and walks the same,” I smile, “you walk erect, and your head is tall and shoulders back,” I nod. I give a laugh, “I am a bit small, yet you lifted me so very easily, and you introduced yourself very kindly.”

I smile and look down, "my papa was an Admiral, I'm afraid."

My eyes grow wide, "it is good you are well," I smile, "I cannot imagine such combat that should harm me," I laugh, "I could not find such bravery." I nod, again, "yes, it is very good you are not injured," my smile fades a little, "my papa's leg was injured in a naval battle...he often has to walk with a cane when it hurts too much."

My eyes grow wide, again, "are you always ready for battle?" I blink, "I should think I was terrified," I laugh.

I look at the leaves in my hand, "and I am glad you are a gentleman," I frown slightly, "I am glad to have found gentlemen here in my short time at court." I give a laugh, "my mother warned me very much that such gentlmen could not be found at court...yet I am glad to be able to prove her to be mistaken," I giggle, placing my hand over my lips.

I smile, "yes, my papa did love those days in the Navy...he used to tell me stories of watching the sunset over nothing but the sea, and all the islands they would often visit...and he would bring things for my mother." I laugh, "and he was so very proud of serving."

I laugh again, and look down at the dress I wear, "I am so very small...I think I would be easily overpowered." "Yet I am glad I can feel safe here...it is so beautiful to see the colors and hear the water, it reminds me of home," I smile.

"Well...the first gentleman I met was his majesty," I blush a little, "and I am glad you are one, for it shows me there are certainly others."

I frown a little, "you say you were trained in combat?" I smile, "did you ever hear of a young man named Pierpont Guyot?...he is my brother."

Coralie laughed, "you must be a very good husband and brother."

Coralie looked about the forest around her, noting the changing colors and the dark water that moved beside the bank the two stood. She gave a smile.

"Yes, it certainly is sacred." She looked down at the leaves in her hand, "I am certain this place shall give me inspiration for my stories and lyrics." Coralie looked up and smiled with him, "thank you, good sir, that is so very kind of you to offer your protection."

Coralie turned her head at the mention of the king, not wanting the gentleman to catch her blushing. "Did you also know the former king?" she smiled.

"That is most impressive sir," my eyes grow wide, "I would love to ask you somethings, as I am working on a ballad about a knight, and I could use your advise," she smiled.

Coralie laughed, "well, he looks a little like me, and has my eyes...yet he has long dark blond hair," she gave another laugh, placing a hand at her mouth, "unfortunately, he is a bit of a rogue, as my brother Chevalier says, and I am certain if you knew him, you were either good friends, or enemies," she laughed.

Coralie's eyes grew wide, "Oh, I am so sorry monseiur," she shook her head. "I cannot imagine such a loss."

Coralie gave a smile, "yes, I think the woods bring out much of that in all of us," she looked up to the sky and the high heavens, "I think we are children of nature at heart," she smiled.

"Yes," Coralie giggled, "I must have been very small." "I like this court," she smiled, "there is art and music and beauty everywhere."

Her eyes grew wide, again, "you write poetry?" she gasped, "oh, monsieur I think it funny that we should find each other here in the woods and find we are both artists."

Coralie smiled, "I am certain you two would get along."

Coralie nodded solemnly, "I know what you mean...I lost someone when I was a little girl, but it does not compare to your loss," Coralie gave a faint smile.

Coralie laughed, "oh, I often wonder such things," she smiled. "I think I should like to be a fairy or nymph," she shook her head, "yet I know such things are silly."

Her eyes grew wide, "Oh, Monsieur Sinclair, I know I should love to travel!!" She clasped her hands together, "my papa travels all over, to Italy and England and Spain...Oh, I want to go there as well, and I want to go further than anyone has ever gone before," she smiled. "I want to find new and odd lands and people, and I want to see the treasures they have to offer."

Coralie laughed, "oh, but sir, if you write, you certainly write more than any other, and it shows you are already more artistic than most," she smiled.

She giggled, "I am certain you two would have much to talk about."

Coralie looked down at the leaves in her hand, blinking away any tears that may try to fall out. "...when I was little, I found my-...my nursemaid, Fionnula, dead with the sweat," she spoke slowly. "She was always my favorite nursemaid, and always the nicest to me...I miss her, and none others have been as kind as she was."

Coralie gave a faint smile, "thank you monsieur, I hope I can be a good artist from it."

She gave a laugh, "perhaps you could accompany me to such travels for protection," she jested. "I am certain you would be an amiable adventurer."

Coralie smiled at him, "I believe, that so long as you make or write beautiful things that have been given to you by God...you are an artist," her eyes shined as she looked him in the eye.

"Might I ask, Monsieur Sinclair," she looked up to him, "what is it that brought you to the wood this day?"