THE BELLE OF SOTTO

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In the middle of the 18th century was a wicked duke who ruled over the empire of Sotto. He had acquired all the wealth of the kingdom and he ruled the people with an iron fist. Everyone was compelled to bow at his command and he was almost worshiped like a god. He had one major problem though; he did not know what it took to be loved or to love someone. One day at his balcony, he watched how Miss Jane was staring in his palace from her apartment that was opposite his bedroom.

He was fascinated at her distant smile and he wished to have a word with her. When his valet brought Miss. Jane at his presence, he was shocked at her insubordination when she didn’t bow in greetings to his majesty. “You can be beheaded for being rude to the king do you realize that?” He asked.

“I know so my lord but the choice will forever remain yours. I have made mine,” she said and the king was very angry. He didn’t know what to do so he came down from his throne and asked her what she wanted. “It is you who sent for me my king, what is it you want?” Miss. Jane said

The king stayed speechless for a few minutes and then went on his knees before her, “I admire your courage my lady and I humbly ask that you be my wife.” He said.

“Am I to object? You have ruled with an iron fist for twenty years and here you are lacking just what will make you the happiest man in the world…Isn’t that what you want?” She asked. She took his hand and got him back to his feet. “I can give you what you seek on one condition my king,”

“Whatever you desire my dear, I will do.” The king promised

“To become your wife, you will have to redistribute all the wealth you seized from these poor people you rule and we will be married and I shall love you with my whole heart,” Miss. Jane said and it was so. The king did as she ordered and when it was time for them to get married, Miss. Jane escaped from the kingdom.

Old Dreams of Today

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I used to be a perfect builder at a very tender age and this was out of the fear to explore my true talent. Diana was the belle of my future hope and without the courage I most required, I could only dream of our special romance in a special environment I had built inside my mind. I would kiss her slender soft lips with her gentle caress that flushed down my zeal to have her as my own.

The way she walked, the way she smiled, over and over, the way she brushed her silky dark hair back. I most desired a woman of her graceful stature and beauty. I rode on the horse rich men on and I felt confident to halt at her door step with a diamond ring and a scrap of a poem I made out for her alone.

It is always the same dream and for all these years, nothing about her had changed. Same black hair and almond beady eyes that were fashioned in Arabian colors. I longed to savor her rich beauty as my wife and yet, it was all a dream I made. When men dream these old dreams of today, they always come up with one conclusive statement… “What if?”

What if I was I was a magician; I had snapped my fingers and make all her worries disappear in a twinkle of an eye. What if I was a preacher, then my sermon would be about how the heavens were opened up on our wedding day and I had offered her that diamond ring in a beautiful castle she will proudly call her own.

If I could be all these things, I had given Diana everything at best, fly her straight to heaven, and step dance with her at my inn…I’ll ask her to marry me and give my all just to get her that diamond ring and while everything in my dream looked so real and so lucid, it felt disconcerting to come to realization when she tapped me on the shoulder and said in muttering bleats, “James finally proposed to marry me, aren’t you happy for me?”

 

MEETING THE BLUE BLOODS

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It was cold and chilly and I was yet to try the robe Miss. Jane had brought in from the shop. It was a perfect fit but I feared my manners all the same. I had to make an effort to fix up the areas that seemed tough, “Hello, it’s my pleasure meeting your acquaintance my lord,” I rehearsed by my bleating voice came out in coarse bleats to my displeasure.

We were a few hours to the ball and it would be my first night at the Ford’s. I looked glorious under my new robe and while everyone hoped I was going to be the bell of the ball, I esteemed that this dream of fantasy should come to pass before I lose the patience that pressured up in my gut.

Delanoir was a perfect jet-set and he will stop at nothing to pick the best from the many that had come. I had comportment issues as it was my very first time to witness a ball. I did one more rehearsal with Miss. Jane and she most assured me that I was doing great. “Keep it up,” she said and ushered me to mount on the carriage.

I was timid to make the eye contact that was very much required to show off my beauty. Yes, there was that general lack of confidence and I did nothing to work against it. The gentle ding of the glass against a metal resonated in the hall, “Let the dance commence ladies and gentlemen,” the valet called out and as Delanoir walked majestically in my direction, I felt my inside contract.

I did not want to imagine for one second that he was coming my way but again, I was filled with the so much impatience that built up. “Hello, I am most pleased to meet with your acquaintance my lord,” I babbled before he stretched his hand to shake mine.

He was stunned at my quick anticipation and with such gentleness, he came close enough, “You don’t have to be so tensed, I am only as ordinary as you can imagine me to be if you want to…” He muttered and dragged me gradually to the center of the dance floor.

All IN GOOD FAITH

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It was the start of a new academic year and while we made everything possible for Bertha to get her needs ready; I was stunned to find Adele loading up her trunk, “And just where the hell you think you’re going? Have you cleaned the dishes?” I brooded. I noticed the look on her pale face; it reflected everything Jane was, beautiful and prosperous. “And don’t give me that look…Now shoo,” I exclaimed and she rushed back downstairs.

“Ma what has Adele done to you that you have come to hate her so much?” My daughter, Bertha asked with eyes that spoke Adele’s defense.

“You cannot see it the way I do my darling…I can say she’s a hindrance to your school since my sister left her with me…” I responded with a persuasive smile

“You mean Aunty Martha? Is she ever going to come for her?” Bertha asked. I could tell from the lines on her face that she was taking sides and it was however the least thing I wanted for her to see.

“Look honey, I just want the best of you and nothing more. Trust me Martha would do same if she was in my place…” I blushed as I caressed her cupper curled hair with a smile she had faked for me.

I admired her intelligence and there was no doubt that she was up to something with all those questions. “Why all the questions…” I asked.

“Aunty Martha teaches at our school…She’s my class mistress,” She bleated with a regretful smile.

“And what does she teach you?” I asked with lips that trembled. I couldn’t believe my ears; Martha had been alive all these year. What was I ever going to tell her? A thousand questions crossed my mind but the most fundamental thought was the accident.

I was in my head like everything happened yesterday and when I opened my eyes; I realized Bertha had been shaking me on the shoulder.

He voice came to me faintly but at last, I could hear her say English, my daughter always performed well in English and she had brought me reports of Martha though she wasn’t sure it was her Aunt.

“She always asked of you and two days ago, I found her crying by the stable…She was looking at a picture of the both of you…She asked me to tell Adele to come to school today,”

I felt my inside contract and I was quite sure of my end. My malicious attempt had failed and now I was going to live in regret for the rest of my life. Why did I watch her fall over the cliff when I could help her and save her life? Despite that, she has been good to my daughter and I had transformed hers into a cleaner at her own house…I broke down in tears at the news Bertha gave me. Would I ever say I am sorry?

TO BE CONTINUED..

THE DANCE AND THE LAST

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At the medieval epoch, Catherine had hoped for her daughter, Chantal, to stand out as the most presentable belle for the ball. She had sewn a cute robe that fitted her perfectly but as she handed the gift to her daughter, she was very distressed to find her right after that moment in the mud with Melisa, her sister’s daughter. Catherine never saw the importance of giving both girls an equal opportunity to meet with the blue bloods at the ball.

“Chantal, gracious God, look what you have done, and you…Get away from here,” She scolded and while Melisa retreated to her room, Catherine cautioned Chantal not to play with Melisa for she was bad influence. Catherine got the dress to the cleaners and on the day of the ball, she had dressed Chantal properly with the robe. She was the most beautiful of all the girls who showed up at the ball but Melisa came with her sac clothes to be as a spectator at the party.

When the dance started right after the Duke had made his speech, the young prince marched straight to Chantal and proposed for a dance. Chantal feeling very shy turned to her mother who nodded with an urge for her to go on. They made circles in the middle of the dance ceremony and Catherine felt quite proud to see her daughter make such acquaintance with the young prince.

Then the floor was opened for all to dance and while Melisa made her way through the crowd, the prince distinguished her from everyone else in the room as a beggar. “What the hell? What is this crazy girl doing in here?” He brooded as he halted the dance. Catherine came at once on her knees and played the good aunt. She begged for the prince’s forgiveness and dismissed Melisa to return to the outer parts of the castle.

Melisa felt left out and as she walked through the lonely street singing a song her mother had taught her, she ran into the king’s chart. The tall king Eric stepped out and asked why she was not at the ball.

“The prince doesn’t like me…Everyone thinks I’m mad,” she responded and continued.

“Wait…” The king ordered. To her surprise, the king took her to a nearby boutique and got her a new dress that was twice as beautiful as Chantal’s. She was cleaned and dressed. She looked twice as ravishing as Chantal but she got to the ball towards the end of the show, rod in the king’s chart.

It was time for the king to give a final say for the all night gala to commence and with Melisa standing by his side, the young prince did not hesitate to change his mind. He didn’t recognize her and after the king had talked on treating every citizen equally, the prince walked up to Melisa for her hand to a ball.

It surprised everyone that she turned the offer down and went straight to one of the boys dressed in a somewhat sac clothe. She chose to dance with the last of the men who lusted for her touch and that had pleased the king to rectify his son’s judgment of people.

“You see son, she is that crazy lady you just asked out of here hours back and she’s the same lady who just ditched you…It’s a free country.” The king muttered to the young prince…

TO BE CONTINUED…

DOMESDAY BOOK

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It is often spoken about as one of England’s finest treasures and the Domesday Book has its place in history as a valid legal document that links titles with land. This remarkable book contains 913 pages and two million Latin words that describe more than 13,000 places in England and parts of Wales. However, it does not cover major British cities such as London and Bristol and certain key places are merely given reference or completely excluded, such as districts in Wales.

Written in the 11th century on the orders of King William I, the Domesday Book is based on the Domesday Survey that describes in remarkable detail, the land-holdings and resources of late 11th-century England. However, it was left unfinished and abandoned when William Rufus succeeded to the throne in 1087.

The etymology of ‘Domesday’ came from God’s final Day of Judgement, when every soul would be assessed with no appeal. This title was eventually accepted by its official curators and recently renamed the ‘National Archives’. The Domesday Book is often used by historians to better understand the origins of their local area and there are several versions available in good libraries.