by Billy Miner
“Fine,” she said. “We will practice this some more tomorrow. Let’s work on your speech. Your pronunciation and vocabulary is anything but posh. We will have to work on that as well. Repeat after me.”
I was ready, because I didn’t think there was anything wrong with my wording… until I heard her.
“A marvelous, eumorphous bird was circumfused with splendor and exoptable species as it partook in a nuncheon during the arcipluvian appearance of a reflective surface.”
“A what?” I asked.
“A marvelous, eumorphous bird was… oh never mind. I will write it down.”
She wrote the sentence on a piece of paper and I practiced.
“A mavvelous, eumorpyate bird was circumci…”
“No, no,” she interrupted. “A marvelous, eumorpheus bird.”
It went on like this for a while. You can imagine that we had a lot of “fun” that afternoon, when I struggled to pronounce the words that I thought were in my own language.
Entry 5: Dancing
The next day, we went to the ballroom. It looked fantastic. Shiny, classic mirrors and paintings from the Renaissance era were on all four walls, and the polished, marble floor was like a mirror itself.
“Today you will learn how to dance. This is Dancing Day.” my stepmother said.
“Oh, but I can dance already,” I bragged.
“Really? Show me. Music, please.”
The violins began to play. I was rocking it. I jumped up and down, I stepped back and forth, and I swung myself to the corner. After a few steps that looked like breakdancing moves, I landed on my knees and slid a few yards across the room, raised my hand up, and shouted, “Tadah!”
“Oh, how disgraceful,” the queen complained. “Youth nowadays… no style, no elegance, no sophistication. It’s just terrible.”
“Hey, I didn’t do badly. I learned these moves from my friends in the village.”
“Yes, the commoners. They know nothing,” she said disrespectfully.
“Then you shouldn’t have sent me there,” I said.
“Enough of this. Richard will show you how to dance like a true princess. Come here, Richard.”
The servant walked towards me and took my hand. His other hand he placed on my lower back. The queen started counting.
“One, two, three… one, two, three… music, please.”
The music started playing again, and I must say that Richard had quite the set of dancing skills. I didn’t like it so much at first, but as we kept practicing, I began to enjoy it more. Richard guided me like a knowledgeable teacher, and the queen kept commenting on the little things. “Dancing Day” was right! She made me practice for more than 5 hours before she gave me lunch.
I was exhausted and retired to my bedroom. I leaned back in my comfortable chair and fell asleep. It was really nice.
But then I woke up with a jolt.
“Shameful,” the queen said, who was standing next to me. “The loud snoring… it’s just disgusting.”
“Excuse me,” I silently said. “I didn’t know I was snoring.”
“Oh, never mind that either. Let’s pick your dress for tonight’s dinner.”
A real dress? Oh, this was going to be fun.
Entry 6: The Dress and the Mess
We went to my wardrobe. It was a gigantic closet space with numerous choices of clothes. I was amazed.
“All this is going to be mine?” I asked happily.
“Only if you pass the princess test,” the queen said.
I walked forward, very slowly, observing all the dresses, skirts, shoes, headbands, scarfs, hats, socks, pants, tights, and shirts that I was going to sort through. All the colors of the rainbow were there. All different shapes, sizes, and patterns were carefully sewed into these wonderful pieces of attire.
“I am glad you like it,” my stepmother said. “I will see you in an hour at supper. We have invited guests from different lands. I expect you to look your very best. Be sure to pick the right outfit suitable for a fancy dinner with high-class conversation.”
“I will do my best to pick something nice,” I said with a smile.
I knew it wouldn’t be too hard, since there were so many beautiful dresses. But that hour, I started doubting. Every choice I made seemed to be topped by another better choice. The options drove me nuts. I couldn’t decide.
I looked at the clock.
Almost time.
Aah! What was I going to wear?
Eventually, I just picked something. I told myself that it would be okay. It didn’t have to be perfect. But when I entered the living room, my stepmother shook her head disapprovingly.
I was wearing a pink dress with puffy sleeves and a golden necklace with two different shades of blue on the inside. She pointed at her eyes, trying to make a gesture that the dress just didn’t go well with my green eyes. I caught her signal and breathed in deeply before I took another step towards the dinner table.
I was late, and everybody was watching me with big eyes. There were at least 20 guests, all kings, queens, and other aristocratic individuals. They were wearing fancy clothes and crowns on their heads, and they were displeased with me arriving late. I pretended not to notice, as I avoided eye contact as much as I could.
Then I sat down, but my dress got stuck underneath one of the king’s chairs.
“Oh,” I said. “Oops. My dress is stuck. Could you move your chair up a little, while I pull it out?” I asked.
“Of course,” the king said politely.
Big mistake.
The king pulled his chair up, but I was pulling so hard that I fell backwards. I tumbled through the air a little and landed on the dinner table in the gravy, which splashed against a dozen faces and got all over my dress. When I tried to get up, I accidentally pulled down the entire tablecloth with everything on it, including the plates, bowls, forks, spoons, and knives, but also the turkey, potatoes, rice, vegetables, and several different sauces. Some cups of tea broke. Some glasses shattered, and the drinks were all over the floor. This was the biggest mess I had ever caused, besides the one in the bakery. No, actually, it was worse than in the bakery.
How embarrassing! How disastrous! Nobody was going to approve of my royalty after this.
I smeared the gravy and garlic sauce from the table off my face and noticed someone was helping me up. I grabbed his hand and stood up.
Could this really be true?
Entry 7: My Dream Prince
The person who grabbed my hand was the same guy with the beautiful blue eyes whom I had seen in the bakery. A myriad of questions went through my mind.
How did he get here? Is he a prince then? Why was he at the bakery? What is his name? Is he married? Why is he so unbelievably handsome?
I was confused.
“Hi again,” he said in a calm voice. “My name is Rodius. I am the prince of the Ankerlands.”
I couldn’t speak. I had just gotten the whole dinner on the floor by my ungainly behavior and my attempt to pull away my dress. I was dirty, disgusting, and filthy, although I am sure those words almost mean the same thing. Most of all, I was terribly embarrassed. I couldn’t say anything to him looking like this, after spoiling everyone’s meal.
So I ran.
I didn’t know what else to do. I simply ran out of the room. As I kept running while holding my expensive dress, I was trying to decide where to go. My eye caught a glimpse of the beautiful palace court yard.
Sure. That looked like a good place to hide.
I just didn’t realize this wonderful prince was coming after me. I hid behind a bush next to a flowing water fountain.
I didn’t even notice him. I thought I was alone.
“Martha,” the prince said.
Entry 8: A Princess at Last
I was crying a little. It was too much for me. I was the clumsiest girl in the country and I had to become a princess. There was no way this was ever going to happen. Not with that set of rules and all those behavioral s
tandards I had to meet. I simply couldn’t do it.
“H-how did you know my name?” I asked the prince.
“Oh, come on. Everybody here knows it. They were all here to celebrate your royalty.”
“I don’t want to be a princess anymore,” I sobbed. “I can’t do it. It’s too hard. Everybody is judging me and I don’t have the talent to be so uptight and high-class all the time. Maybe it’s better if I just go home.”
He put his arm around my shoulder. “Don’t do that,” he said. “They need you here. And those people in the dining room? They were just there to celebrate your progress. They don’t care. They already influenced your stepmother enough to accept you as the princess of these lands. And how are you going to make a difference in that tiny town you lived in?”
“Oh yes, that reminds me,” I said, wiping away my tears. “Why were you in Craftfield anyway, dressed up like a commoner?”
“I could ask you the same thing,” he said.
“Hold on a minute, mister. I asked you first. Besides, nobody ever told me I was a princess.”
“I was just a tourist in that town,” he explained. “If I told them I was a prince, they wouldn’t have left me alone. But even though a lot of the guilds were not that great, and the handicraft in town was mostly done with cheap materials, I have to say that I was impressed with what I saw.”
“Oh? And why is that?”
“I saw you,” he said, looking in my eyes.
My heart melted. He was suggesting that he stared at me in that bakery, because he liked the way I looked. But I still wasn’t sure what that meant. Perhaps he was impressed because I was good at baking bread, although it would surprise me, because I burnt the bread while he was there. Or perhaps he meant that he was impressed because I was funny, getting all the air and flour over the floor. No, that wouldn’t make sense either. Still, I wanted him to say it. I just needed to hear it after being so uninteresting and dull throughout my childhood and teenage years.
“What did you see about me?” I asked.
“Well,” he started. “I noticed that you were friendly and kind, and good with customers. I also noticed that you were beautiful; you had pretty green eyes and waving hair. And I surely was entertained by those weird colleagues of you sliding all over the slippery floor and getting the customers behind me all poofed up with flour.”
I didn’t care about his entire spiel. I only heard one thing.
“Did you just say I am beautiful?” I asked.
“Yes, I did, didn’t I?”
Spontaneous me. Here I went, without having a concern for the future. I couldn’t care less at that moment, even if I risked going too fast. I grabbed his head and kissed him. I was going to let go and apologize for my impulsive act, but he wouldn’t let me go and kissed me back, putting one hand on the back of my head and the other on my upper back.
I was in heaven, even though I still had some gravy on my face.
The rest of the day went perfect.
I changed into a different dress, one that my stepmother helped me pick. She complimented me for having the courage to come back and set the dinner table with the servants, and after dinner, there was a dance with resonating violin music. All the kings, queens, and other high-society citizens gathered in the ballroom.
The music began. Everybody was elegantly dressed and had smiles on their faces. A waiter served fruity drinks in long glasses, and there was lots of talking about national affairs, relationships, and family life.
Suddenly, I felt a tap on my shoulders.
It was Rodius.
“May I have this dance?” he asked while grabbing my hand and kissing it during his polite bow.
I blushed. I was ecstatically inclined to dance with this hunk of a man, this noble prince, this dreamy, handsome… well, you know what I mean. We danced all evening. It was perfect, especially with the new steps I had learnt from Richard, the servant.
Rodius and I kept in touch for months. Eventually, he proposed. When it happened, I almost dropped the ring and fell over backwards because I was in shock. I said “yes,” of course. And in due time, we got married.
My clumsiness never left me, but I sure told him over and over again how I saved our lives by tripping over a tree trunk and killing a dozen endermen in the forest by mistake, which was amazing to him the first time, but less impressive as I kept telling the same story. But he didn’t mind. He didn’t mind my personality at all. He loved me for who I was, and on top of that, he made me feel beautiful.
And for those reasons and more, we lived happily ever after.
THE END
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Minecraft Love
A Minecraft Love Story
By Billy Miner
Copyright @2015
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without permission in writing from the publisher, Billy Miner.
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Contents:
Introduction
Entry 1: My Job
Entry 2: My Coworker
Entry 3: Competing for the Top
Entry 4: Fights
Entry 5: Distance
Entry 6: Danger
Entry 7: Conversation
Entry 8: Empathy
Entry 9: A New Start
Entry 10: Romantic Dinner
Entry 11: In His Arms
Entry 12: The Father
Entry 13: The Mother
Entry 14: Heartbroken
Entry 15: Alone
Entry 16: Kiss and Make Up
Entry 17: The Lights
Entry 18: Waiting
Entry 19: The Question
Entry 20: Happily Ever After
Introduction
Do Minecraft people ever fall in love? Apparently they do. This is the account of Bethany, who loves her job and becomes competitive to reach the top. But when she meets Russell, she discovers she loves something or someone else even more than her work.
They quickly get to know each other, but they don’t like each other that much at first. But as time goes by, and each time, a new day begins, they discover each ot
her’s strengths and weaknesses and fall in love. The romance lasts even when problems occur, and they make plans to stay together.
Read or listen to this somewhat funny and dramatic story with all the ingredients of a typical chick flick about a couple of Minecraft villagers who fall in love.
Entry 1: My Job
“Get those sheets in here, quickly!”
“I am sorry, madam. I will be right there,” I say.
“Hurry up or you’ll lose your job.”
My job is hectic. It has its ups and downs, but mostly downs. I am not crazy about it, but as a servant in some rich lord’s castle, what could I say against it? I had to survive too.
A few years ago, I came to this town, hoping for a better future. Surrounding regions had trouble with a drought, cold winters with villagers starving everywhere, and attacking zombies. It was no picnic, except for the ones who ate the humans.
In search for a solid job, I had come to Mine Valley and applied at Lord Elruch’s castle. They hired me as a servant, and now I left scrubbing toilets and replacing bed sheets. Other tasks include laundry, of course, and helping out in the kitchen.
Every night, I go home with the hope of a better position in the castle. Servants talk. They discuss everything that happens, and one of them mentioned the annual Servant Contest they held to determine who will get a higher position and order the other ones around.
You see, there are servants who get close to Lord Elruch, who tell other servants below them what to do. They get more privileges, like good food, more time off, and recognition of a higher status. And once per year, or so I was told, they measure the servant’s performance by paying attention to made up beds, meals cooked, and customs maintained. I am going to compete. It sounds like something I want to achieve to improve my lifestyle.