Dumbledore: "Now, it's great that you've been saving the school and all Harry, but unfortunately your grades have been a tad low, and, well... perhaps Gandalf could explain it better... hit it, Gandalf!
Dumbledore: "Now, it's great that you've been saving the school and all Harry, but unfortunately your grades have been a tad low, and, well... perhaps Gandalf could explain it better... hit it, Gandalf!
Dumbledore: "Now, it's great that you've been saving the school and all Harry, but unfortunately your grades have been a tad low, and, well... perhaps Gandalf could explain it better... hit it, Gandalf!
Dumbledore: "Now, it's great that you've been saving the school and all Harry, but unfortunately your grades have been a tad low, and, well... perhaps Gandalf could explain it better... hit it, Gandalf!
Dorea led them back up the hill a bit, and west, walking along parallel to the side of the palace. It stretched out for even longer than buck had realised from the angle he'd seen it before. It would actually be quite exciting to explore all that, but for now he followed his mother as she ushered him and the guards into her cottage.
He didn't remember the living room very well - all his memories just seemed a little dark. But as he stepped through the door, he realised that was because the lighting was just poor. There were two windows, but both were small squares quite high up in the wall. Glass wasn't as readily available up here, and even the homes that lacked glass in Resador City could afford to have nice big windows because the air they were letting in wasn't too cold. If Dorea's windows were any bigger, the cold northern air would filter in and give them all the chills.
The sofa was made of a long wooden crate, with a few planks as a backboard. There were thick woollen blankets piled on top of each other to sit on. It wasn't as uncomfortable as Buck was expecting, but it did force him to sit with somewhat better posture than he was accustomed to.
"So how was the journey?" Dorea called through from the kitchen. Buck could hear the clank of metal and water being poured. A moment later a hissing began, which he assumed was the kettle being put on, because soon his mum came back and sat on a thin wooden chair nearer the door.
"Not bad," Buck said. "I had forgotten how beautiful a lot of the countryside is. Plus, I had some interesting conversations with folk I met in passing on the way here, so there was rarely a dull moment."
Buck glanced at Hilene, who was sitting at the same little circular table as his mum. He didn't seem to have flinched, so perhaps he only had an aversion to plotting and information gathering if Buck tried to rope him into it.
"Is that right?" Dorea said. "What sort of conversations? Learn any interesting information?"
Buck rubbed the back of his neck and could have sworn his mum smirked. He'd thought what he'd said could just as easily have been taken as him talking about hearing lots of interesting ghost stories, but his mum seemed to know exactly what he was thinking.
He shifted around a little. "Well, I did hear something about Erson that makes what happened at the palace make more sense."
At this, even Hilene's eyes widened. "You did? Is it fixable? I thought at the time that was harsh on you, you know."
"I appreciate that, Hilene," Buck said, smiling at the concern in his voice. "What I learned may well be common knowledge up here, and judging by the number of travellers headed for Resador City maybe it's common knowledge down there too by now. But anyway, I learned that Erson is already in love."
"Oh..." Victane said. Then he seemed to pause to let it sink in properly. "So that's why he hated the suggestion of marriage. But then... why isn't he simply married?"
"You really don't know?" Dorea asked. The kettle started to whistle and she had to go back to the kitchen, but she called through, "The Queen doesn't like the match."
Hilene scoffed. "According to that shepherd, the Queen doesn't like a lot of things."
Dorea poked her head through from the kitchen. "And which shepherd was this?"
"He didn't say his name," Buck said, reaching into his pocket for his parchment. "Why?"
Dorea shook her head. "Never mind. And that's Prince Erson to you, by the way."
Hilene gulped as she disappeared again. "Oops."
"Don't worry about it," Buck said, finding himself grinning a little, "I think she was telling me off more than you."
When Dorea came back through holding the first two mugs, Buck got up to help her with the others. When he came back, Hilene was saying, "I just wanted to check. Like, it wasn't a big deal exactly."
"What's this?" Buck asked, handing a mug of tea to Hilene.
"Oh, just that shepherd. The whole thing about not seeing many people of my complexion. It's probably not a big deal, honestly." Hilene raised his hands as if in surrender.
"It is true that we don't see many folks with darker skin up here," Dorea said, accepting her own tea from Buck. Buck's and Victane's had been put on a small coffee table in front of them. "But I'd hope it wouldn't be an issue. Most folks don't seem to mind what they do get coming up from the south."
"What's that?" Victane asked, sipping his tea.
Dorea tapped her own mug. "Exotic foodstuffs."
Victane snorted his tea with the least dignity Buck had ever seen from him. He looked down at the contents of his mug. "A fair point."
In the silence that followed, thoughts fluttered about in Buck's head but he couldn't get them to sit still. And underneath them all was a warm fuzziness whenever he looked at his mum, which rather distracted him from any attempt to join dots together. He put the thoughts from his mind for a moment, and settled into chatting with his mum and his friends.
Eventually, Buck had to bring the conversation around to sleeping arrangements. He'd warned Hilene and Victane that there wouldn't be room for all of them in his mother's cottage, but he would pay for a stay at an inn using Pires's money.
"Mum, is there an inn nearby?" he asked.
"Not exactly," she said. "There's bothies dotted around that people sometimes stay in if there's space free."
Hilene's eyebrows shot up. "What if they're all full?"
Dorea chuckled and shrugged. "Then everyone squeezes in tighter together."
"I don't suppose there's any chance that Buck here could sing for our board in the palace?" Victane chuckled.
"Ah, it's not like back down in-" Dorea started to say, then she leaned forward and exclaimed, "Actually, I tell a lie! I almost forgot that the Princess has decided to invite some performers to the palace this evening. I think she's getting a little jealous of her big brother."
Buck too had almost forgotten about Princess Myal, but more her existence in general than some court she may be assembling. He had heard very little about Erson either before the past two weeks, away down in Resador. The city especially was like its own little world.
"I could do that," he said. "What time?"
"I think some people might have been milling around for a while already. Just whoever's not busy with their livestock will probably drift in and out," Dorea said, waving one hand slowly back and forth.
"Will they be expecting, er... ballads on the slower side?" Buck asked.
"Who, the shepherds?" Dorea tilted her head to the side. "Not particularly. The Princess though, you might want to go easy on her. Nothing too intense, alright? Her family haven't had much time for singing these past few years. Actually, I suppose the palace has never been known for song around here. That's more of a campfire thing."
"So what do you think, Buc- Buttane?" Victane asked.
Buck glanced towards his mum, wondering if she'd been hoping for a night at home with him. But she was smiling, and so was Hilene, so he looked back at Victane and said, "Nice and easy. Yeah, I... guess I can do that."
I was copying that for a line by line review.
Stay Safe The Princess of Darkness
Hello! You? Yes you reading this. Have a nice day because you're wonderful and you deserve it!
They drifted down towards the palace once everyone had finished their tea. The wind had picked up a bit, whipping Buck’s hair around his face. He didn’t have the longest hair in the world, but he’d tried to keep his fringe nice and loose to go with the casual theme of the night. He’d put on a thin linen shirt and a dark blue robe over it – which had involved a subtle shift around on Simone’s part – plus some thick black breeches. He also had no bucket with him, and wouldn’t be going by the name of Buck. He had to make a new name for himself, because he was fairly sure Erson would remember his.
“Wait, where’s the door?” Buck asked, realising they were ambling vaguely up to a narrow cobblestone path that ran alongside the palace. There was a little stream as well, running around just inside the path. It was like an extremely non-threatening moat.
“There’s a door just along there,” Dorrea said, pointing a little to the left.
Buck squinted in the dying light. “What, where?”
Dorrea stepped in front of him and led him around to a little wooden bridge across the stream. It brought them to a square wooden door set deep into the stone, so that there was an overhang of stone above their heads as they knocked. Buck figured that had to be helpful on rainier nights.
And they’d have needed it, because it took upwards of five minutes for Dorrea’s ringing to be answered. Eventually, a middle aged woman with straggly light brown hair ushered them in.
“Oh, sorry about the wait, Dorry,” said the woman, once they were all inside. “Raddig was handling this wing but he had to do some damage limitation.”
Buck’s ears pricked up. “What sort of damage limitation?”
The woman led them down a low, narrow corridor with a wooden ceiling and dim light, explaining that an argument had broken out over whether or not everyone was wasting an evening. Few people had much faith in the night as a musical exercise – nobody knew a song clean enough to be sing within a mile of a princess – but some had taken the slight on Myal’s honour to heart.
“Interesting...” Buck said. “I’m Buttane, by the way.”
He held his hand out for her as he introduced himself, but halfway to shaking it she turned to Dorrea and exclaimed, “Ah, Dorry! So this is your boy then?”
“He is indeed. And these are his friends, Hilene and Victane.” Dorrea gestured to each in turn.
Buck glanced at the two guards, realising he’d forgotten to introduce them before trying to get details about court politics. They didn’t glare at him or anything though, so he figured all was good. The woman introduced herself as Olean, and led them through a door in the stone wall to their left, into a wide, high hall.
There was a blocky wooden stage at one end of the room, and a young woman Buck assumed to be Princess Myal sat on a throne in the corner of it. Scattered around the room were people wrapped in thick, rough fabrics, with dark trousers like the ones Buck had put on. And off to the left, a fight was in the process of being broken up.
On one side was a tall man with short dark hair, backed by a group of cheering supporters. On the other side was a shorter, stocky man, with similarly vocal supporters behind him. And in the middle, muscles straining as he tried to push the two apart, was the shepherd they’d spoken to on the way in. Perhaps the queen would like him better if he managed to prevent this bar fight from breaking out in the middle of the great hall.
Instinctively, Buck started towards the throng to hear what they were shouting at each other, but his mum tapped him on the shoulder and led him towards the stage. Hilene and Victane headed towards the fray. There were a few crates of various sizes lined up in ascending order, which Olean led them up. Buck grinned, having not expected to find himself on a stage again quite so soon.
Olean rushed to the opposite corner and crouched down beside Princess Myal’s throne.
“Oh, poppet, I’m so sorry the night’s not going to plan,” Olean said, patting the princess on the hand.
Buck noticed that the princess’s brow was furrowed deeply, and her nose was scrunched up as if she was trying to hold back tears. Her long dark hair flowed down either side of her head, along her shoulders, then draped over her arms. She clenched the tips of it tight in one fist.
“I just wanted to give them something to do – something fun,” she said. She paused to sniffle and look up at Buck. “Oh, gosh, I’m terribly sorry.” She glanced towards Olean. “I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced?”
Olean shot to her feet and gestured for Buck to approach. “Well, you know Dorrea here. This is her son, Buttane.”
Buck sank into a deep bow, flourishing with one hand. “A pleasure, your Highness.”
Slowly, Myal’s hands unclenched. Her mouth hung slightly open as she reached her hand out, then dropped into a wide ‘O’ as he bent down and kissed it.
Olean patted her on the shoulder and she snapped back to attention. “What, um… What brings you to the Royal Court, my good sir?”
Buck put his weight on one leg and gestured fluidly with his hands as he spoke. “Well, I’ve been travelling for some time, seeing the realm. But my mother made me aware by letter that there was to be a brand new court established right here in the valley where I was born. Now that was a sight I had to see.”
Myal’s mouth closed, and turned upwards into a grin, though at his last words this dropped slightly. She nodded her head towards the crowd below, where Hilene and Victane were doing a decent job of diffusing the tensions. This was nothing compared to when flyte night got out of hand back in Resador City, all those alliterative insults flying back and forth.
Myal muttered, “Not much of a court. There’s been two singers so far and the songs have been nothing but bedtime stories! I don’t want people to go to sleep. I want them to stay here and have a good time.”
Buck rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, your Highness, I think there may be some hesitation over what subject matter would be appropriate for a royal presence. That doesn’t leave many songs but bedtime stories.”
“But Erson isn’t hearing lullabies! Everyone knows what Resador’s like, yet he gets to stay down there as long as he wants!” Myal’s hands briefly curled back into fists.
“Hmm… Perhaps it would interest you to know that I myself am a singer, and would be happy to get the night going again?” Buck grinned at her. “And I do take requests. Would you like to hear something like what Erson might be hearing right now?”
Myal tapped the ends of her fingers together. “No… or at least, not yet. I’m trying to introduce a sense of history here. Do you know any songs about the uniting of the realm?”
Buck nodded. To him, the chronicle of the Royal Origin was a bedtime story. And he’d worn the right clothes as well, for it was a sombre tale full of bitter infighting and tortuous peace negotiations. It actually made for a terrible song, but it had been a good starting point from which to train his memory.
The princess called out for the crowd’s attention, though most people had begun to watch the exchange between Buck and Myal anyway. Then, with a smile, she gestured for Buck to take centre stage. He did so, then let his voice ring out in thin, plaintive song.
And that's the from the other review I just did.
Stay Safe The Princess of Darkness
Hello! You? Yes you reading this. Have a nice day because you're wonderful and you deserve it!
Dumbledore: "Now, it's great that you've been saving the school and all Harry, but unfortunately your grades have been a tad low, and, well... perhaps Gandalf could explain it better... hit it, Gandalf!
As my artist’s statement explains, my work is utterly incomprehensible and is therefore full of deep significance. — Calvin
Dumbledore: "Now, it's great that you've been saving the school and all Harry, but unfortunately your grades have been a tad low, and, well... perhaps Gandalf could explain it better... hit it, Gandalf!
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