"You're the one who wanted me to hurry back." Corban grinned to let her know he wasn't mad at her for it, just joking.
Isabelle rolled her eyes, sititng on the sofa and propping her feet up again. "Actually, I believe I asked you to not leave at all..." She smiled faintly, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. Usually it was braided before bedtime... "Do you know how to braid at all?"
((HA! I got post #300!!))
"Um, not really." Corban said, staring at her hair. Did she expect him to braid her hair? It was sort of...girly. Wasn't that the sort of thing girls did with each other on sleep overs? Then again, he thought, she did seem to think he wanted to be female.
"Don't you know how?"
[Uwah! Lucky xP ]
"No?" Well, darn it. If her hair wasn't braided, wouldn't it be all crazy in the morning? Isabelle sighed. Well of course he wouldn't know how; the men he liked probably had short hair, right? no need to learn how. "Actually, I usually have someone else that helps me do things like this... But it's alright."
"Jonas might know how, he has a little sister." Corban thought out loud. "But he's probably - well, not probably, hopefully, he's on his way to school right now. We can ask him later though."
School. Yet another term Isabelle couldn't define. But she said nothing of it, trying not to seem as stupid and helpless as she felt. "Maybe some other time, then..." she murmured. "Do you have siblings, as well?"
"No," Corban said, slightly regretful. It was probably a good thing though. If he had siblings, they'd be mixed up in all this with him. "But Jonas is a bit like a younger brother to me. You can trust him, even if he throws a tomato at you."
Isabelle giggled softly. "Good to know, I suppose." She sighed, still smiling as she pulled her feet under her. "But he better not throw anything at me. Unless it's chocolate. He can throw that at me anytime."
"I doubt he'd throw chocolate." Corban said with a laugh. "Anything he didn't eat himself in the first five seconds he'd give to his sister."
"Aww." It honestly sounded kind of cute, to be honest. Isabelle smiled a little sadly down at her hands. "I have a sister, too. I doubt she misses me, though."
"Why wouldn't she?" Corban asked, wondering what their relationship with each other was. Did they not get along?
Ugh. Maybe she shouldn't have brought it up... Isabelle fidgeted, still looking down at her hands. "Well... Since I was the oldest, I was the first to be engaged. And the prince that I'm engaged to - or, well, I'm not sure if we still are or not... But of all the princes we've both met, he was her favorite. So now she hates me."
"Oh." This all seemed very complicated. "It's not your fault you were born first. I'm sure she's just jealous or something, that doesn't mean she hates you." God, Corban thought, I'm terrible at this.
Isabelle began sniffling, holding back tears for what seemed like the hundredth time today. "No, she does. I know she hates me. She even said so..." Her hands were slightly trembling, so she tried to fiddle with her hair, keeping her eyes trained on the table.
"Lots of kids say that they hate people when they're angry." Corban reasoned gently, remembering one time when he was about four and he told his mom he hated her when she was trying to put him on a timeout for something. He couldn't even remember what he'd done anymore. Ten minutes later he'd already forgiven her. "They don't really mean it. They just can't think of anything else to say because they're so angry."
"She wasn't just a kid when she said it!" Isabelle snapped at him, then looked back at the table, trying to soften her expression as she sighed. "She's only a few months younger than I am. She knows what she's talking about. And it's not that she just said it one time; you can really tell. She didn't even want to come to my birthday party..."
"How long had you and...your fiance been engaged before then?" Corban asked, realizing he didn't even know Prince Charming's name.
Isabelle finally looked over at him. "Since I was little, of course." Wasn't that sort of obvious..? "I believe since I was seven. He was twelve at the time. My sister was only five."
Corban blinked. Being engaged at sixteen was one thing, but seven? "Well," He said, trying to wrap his head around the situation. "If she really hates you so much, it's her fault, not yours. If you were only seven, you didn't even choose him, did you? If she has a right to hate anyone, it's whoever forced you into marriage."
"I suppose..." Isabelle murmured simply. She vaguely wished she could pull her knees up to her chest and just curl up into a little ball, but... As long as this shirt was, it wouldn't be long enough for that. Which was really a pity. She sighed softly, stretching her legs out again and crossing her ankles as her feet rested on the table. "What about you? Engaged at all?"