treadlightly

Darian was twelve years old when he first saw you.

He heard of your name, of course. Anyone who is local to the Ebott and Ciderbrook area knew about the wealthiest family in the vicinity- the Windsor name practically meant royalty, lessons in history class even glanced over their impressive mark on the map. Your ancestors laid the foundation of Ebott, and collected a group of seven families that helped make the city what it is today. Ciderbrook was constructed when the Elite families strived to distance themselves from the general populace of Ebott, especially when the town grew to be a city. 

Couldn’t mix in with the riff-raff, afterall. It was unbecoming. Ebott fell into a downward spiral of poverty and crime as a result; the city was forced to establish its own ecosystem without its pillars. 

Still, the powerful families never strayed too far. 

The Windsor estate resembled an untouchable fortress to Darian’s childlike eyes; a luxurious mansion, miles of greenery for the horses kept at the stables, a massive rose garden that was something out of a fairy tale… whenever he and his family drove by, Darian had his faced glued to the rear window to get glimpses past the high forestry walls and iron gates. 

He was infatuated with its majesty from a young age and was never able to shake it. 

Darian’s family wasn’t struggling by any means. His father held a powerful position in the military, just like his grandfather before him- and after so many years of service was able to offer comfort and safety to his family that was maintained through noble sacrifice. But with great power comes great responsibility, or some nonsense… It meant that Darian grew up not particularly close to his father. The man was always on a base somewhere, protecting his country. Giving up family time for his work. It forced Darian to grow up quickly, helping his mother around the house and dealing with his two younger sisters. 

When his father was home, it wasn’t exactly better. He was a strict man, offering little room for excuses and no grace for personality. Darian found it hard to relate to him, especially when the budding teen coveted a social life. He liked to be the center of attention; Darian was always surrounded by his friends, always in the spotlight. He quickly climbed the ranks in his academic scores while simultaneously honing his athletic skills and joining the swim team. 

Darian didn’t want to be like his father, no matter how much the man may have wished. 

Darian wanted more. He grew up in a military family, and wanted out. 

It didn’t help that he was entraptured by the glory and majesty of old money. The boy wondered what it would be like to have his own castle one day… What would it be like to have people whisper about his power and wealth, or host gatherings that everyone in the city would want to go to and talk about until the next–?

His parents thought it was just another facet of childhood fantasy. He’d grow out of it; stop obsessing over latest trends and social ladders. That eventually, their son would click in with reality. 

… Darian’s resolve solidified the day his parents were invited to a garden party at the Windsor Estate. 

Somehow, his father was friends with Benjamin Windsor. Darian had never known that- how could he, when he barely knew his own father? How was he supposed to know that the stoic, rigid man had any kind of normal acquaintances? Let alone the fact that he was somehow on good terms with the family who lived in the mansion Darian dreamed about stepping foot in since he learned how to walk?

Darian had begged. Down on his knees, all the dramatics he could think of– He’d do the dishes for an entire month without complaint, he’d clean his room AND his sister’s rooms, he’d walk them to their gymnastics classes every Tuesday night, he’d ace all his homework (even though he did that already)-!!

He’d do anything to see what the estate grounds looked like up close; to be in the company of the type of people he hoped to be one day. 

Eventually his parents caved. His sisters stayed with his grandparents for the day while Darian’s mom dressed him and did his hair, helping the preteen look his best. Darian’s father dressed up in one of his own military fits that was reserved for special occasions, and his mom was tittering with nerves as she tried on dozens of dresses until she found the perfect one.

The Windsors don’t invite just anyone to their home. Darian was determined to make a good impression. He was warned by his father that there weren’t going to be that many children at this kind of party, and he was expected to be on his best behavior. 

Darian didn’t care that there weren’t going to be other kids his age there. He wasn’t going there to play, or anything else deemed so childish. He wanted to see the mansion. He wanted to observe how people in a higher society acted around one another. He wanted to learn how one day, he could have it all. 

His father rolled his eyes. His mother gave her eldest child an adoring smile and a pat on the head. 

It was the beginning of Summer; the temperature perfect for an outdoor gathering. The rose bushes were in full bloom, dazzling everyone in a magical looking backdrop. There were dozens of tables and chairs behind the mansion, offering comfortable seating for those who wished to sit and chat as they sipped on fruity, adult beverages. Butlers wandered about, attending to the guests' needs in a quiet fashion. Everyone was dressed in their best; suits and bowties and dresses swirling about like butterflies. Darian could hardly remember breathing; he watched his father and mother move about awkwardly as they introduced themselves to bankers, stock brokers, local politicians, and–

“Ah! Robert Lancaster, is that you?” 

Darian’s breath caught in his throat. Robert, Darian’s father, looked even more tense than before when the head of the Windsor estate approached. 

“Benjamin. It’s good to see you.” Robert speaks in a careful tone. Darian furrows his brows, peers up at his father that usually exudes a commanding aura and finds him looking… small, in the face of this other man. Robert inclined his head respectfully as Darian’s mother gave a small bow of her head. However, Darian quickly jerks his attention back to the one who he’s seen in countless magazines and news articles. 

The head of the Windsor family. 

Benjamin grinned widely, “I’m surprised you decided to show. Since when do you come to garden parties?” 

“Since my dear wife and incorrigible son begged to see what all the fuss was about.” 

The tips of Darian’s ears grew pink when Benjamin laughed; it… didn’t sound friendly, exactly. The boy lets out a slow breath through his nose as his hands clench. Benjamin glances towards Darian’s mother, “Well, you’re more than welcome to wander. The gardens are exceptional this time of year. I believe my wife is giving a tour of the Claude Monet roses, if you would like to join them?” 

Benjamin turns his body to point down a cobblestone path, leading to the entrance of the rose gardens. A large, stone archway is climbed with pink and white roses, before opening up to a lavish water fountain. There’s a chorus of bright laughter and bubbling chatter as groups of women toe around the meticulously groomed rose bushes that have grown to be the same height as some of the women, creating walls of alluring fragrance. 

Robert spares his wife a kiss on her cheek to send her on her way; a clear dismissal that Darian didn’t understand at the time. Benjamin claps a hand on Robert’s shoulder and steers him towards a group of men smoking cigars and indulging in spirits. 

Darian wasn’t acknowledged, and wasn't introduced properly. He glared daggers at his father’s back as he left him to his own devices. 

… Benjamin hadn’t looked at him. Not once. Not a hello, not a goodbye. “Tch.” 

Darian doesn’t pout. While the fact that he was ignored stung, he also knew that he had to seize this opportunity. 

Weaving in between the clusters of people, Darian sneaks fancy looking snacks off of tables and grazes around the outside of the garden. He tries to copy how he sees people standing, holding their drinkware, and so on, until he grows bored. So, he decides to shift his presence- move closer to where people seemed huddled together. He listens in on the hushed whispers around him, watches how people spoke behind curled hands or tipped away faces.

All the conversations were hushed and secretive. They were all about you.

“Can you believe that the Windsor Heiress is the first girl born to the family in over five generations?” 

“With red hair, no less- a good omen.” 

“They say that she was born with stars in her eyes…”

“Do you realize how that makes you sound?”

“Ana mentioned that when her daughter cries there’s stardust in her tears-!”

“That’s just nonsense.” 

“Yes, well, speaking of… there’s going to be a Blue Moon this summer, and that’s when they’re sending her up the mountain-”

Darian's concentration slips when something brushes past him- a flash of sky blue that makes him do a double take. 

Blue fades into fiery, radiant orange. Locks that fall just at the height of your shoulders. You’re spinning through the rose bushes, laughing in delight. 

Your eyes look like sapphires. Darian can feel his stomach flutter oddly, but he's awestruck.

Those glittering orbs of yours widen when they lock with his own common brown, like you’re shocked that someone like him was even allowed to be here. 

Still… you have a gentleness about you that has Darian frozen in his tracks. An effortless beauty that he's never encountered before.

“Evelynn! Come on over and meet the youngest Briarwood boy.” 

Darian doesn’t hold your attention for long- barely a second. He wishes he could think of something, a wave, a smile, even calling out ‘hello!’ to try and even start a conversation. But you’re a good, obedient daughter. At your father’s call your eyes sparkle and you dash away across the party, past Darian, towards the throng of people huddled around your father’s imposing figure. 

Darian watches as you stand close to your father’s side and give a polite curtsy to this ‘Briarwood’ kid. The other boy bows back, and the two of you start chatting under the watchful eye of your parents and other lingering adults. 

They all smile and whisper to each other with knowing glances that has Darian scowling. 

“They’ll make a lovely pair one day.”