After, Ever After | 1.2 Anthony Cuthbert

After Ever After

Anthony Cuthbert had the easy life, he grew up in high society. Everything was chocolate fountains, bowties and elegant parties. He’d been raised to be prim and property and expect the finest things in life, raised by his nanny and butler, Anthony had longed to know what a normal childhood would have been like.

Strolling through the gardens, Anthony looked at the beauty around him and sighed. He was so bored of this life now and longed for something exciting to happen.

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“Anthony?” the shrill voice calls out, “Anthony, dear, where are you?”

Rolling his eyes and tutting, Anthony sits on the nearest bench and waits for the inevitable. The voice calling out to him was getting closer and he knew it would only be a matter of moments before it’s owner would appear.

“Anthony William Cuthbert!” she had located him, “how dare you not answer your mother when she’s calling you.”

“You were calling me?” Anthony replied, “I never heard.”

“Well, not that your here I want to express the importance of this weekends ball. You’re adult now for goodness sake, you must take on a wife, it really is getting ridiculous. You’ll be introduced to many eligible ladies at the ball, ask one out. This is not a question, do you understand, Anthony?” Francesca trilled.

“Quite,” came Anthony’s response.

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Heading back into his home, Anthony greeted his father who was in his office.

“Father?” Anthony asked.

“Anthony, son, come in, have a seat, please,” Goodwin gestured to the empty seat across from him which Anthony took. “What’s troubling you?”

“This ball,” Anthony whined, “do I really have to go?”

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“Yes,” was Goodwin’s reply, matter of factly, “look, son, I want to retire, your mother and I want to see you take over the business, I’m getting to be an old man and it’s time you step up. We’ve arranged for a selection of ladies to be with us at the ball, there’s bound to be someone you’ll like.”

“Doubtful,” Anthony muttered, “those girls are all so boring.”

“Well, tats part of life son, now off you go,” Goodwin shooed his son.

Anthony stood at the bottom of the stairs, looking up to the second floor, breathed a heavy sighed and made his way up towards his bedroom.

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